I am a fan of Chuvaness because I dig her acerbic wit. She is lifestyle blogger with a Japanese street style aesthetic and an obsession with immaculate bathrooms. Reading her blog for years has given me a good grasp of her voice. For today's Writing Room assignment, I was tasked to compose an entry using another blogger's voice. I did not have to think twice and chose Chuvaness as my reference.
Chuva Commute
My car broke down today and my driver is on leave. It was a last-minute pandemonium. I had no choice but to take the MRT to my meeting in Quezon City. Those who know me well can attest to the fact that I consider anything north of Megamall to be out of town. Good thing my meeting was set for lunchtime so I had the luxury of skipping the rush hour crowd.
My optimism was dashed the moment my Uber driver dropped me off at Ortigas station. The sidewalk was so narrowly barricaded that only one person can pass through it at a time. The elevator was not working as well so I had to take a gazillion steps to the top. By the time I reached the ticketing area, I was met by an intense queue. The people looked exhausted and I immediately felt the same way. It was hot and not well-ventilated. This was already 11am, but the crowd is still major. My Margielic ensemble could not handle the heat, the inefficient ticketing system which mixed both Beep card top-ups and single journey purchases, and the telenovela running on the TV screens. I mean, why? It did not even have subtitles. Is this a reference to the daily drama at the MRT?
By the time I passed through the turnstiles, I did not feel like a worldly, efficient commuter anymore. I felt tired. I walked to the far end of the platform to reach the designated area for women, children, expectant moms, and seniors. I stayed in the women-only area and ignored the people around me who did not seem to understand the system of properly queueing for their turn to ride the train. The platform was hot and humid. Not Chuva-approved.
The train arrived after an eternity, and it was just timely that the air condition was down. Great. This is summer and Manila. The train moved excruciatingly slow. I prayed the rosary to Trinoma. I asked for patience. And a miracle for Manila.