Once a year, two of my sons, some friends and I pay tribute to the Philippine movie industry by watching as many indie films as we could pack in one day at the Cinemalaya (Philippine Independent film Festival).
It is also what I call my personal annual booster shot, or vaccine against the ills of society. The people in my circle generally live sterile lives, blind from the dregs and dung around us. The indies open your eyes, open them big, to see the contaminated sewer in which we live.
I had our tickets bought (day passes that allow you to watch any movie without queuing in ticket booths). But as we got to the Cultural Center of the Philippines, Norbert sends a text message that he couldn’t make it to the first screening. What to do with his ticket?
He looks at me with suspicious, bleary eyes and shoos me off. And I thought I was doing him a favor!
I walk over to another ticket booth where the queue is a mile long. Using the same spiel, I approach some students. They give me the same look, and turn me away. But a yuppy who must have heard my voice from somewhere in the line rushed forward and said, “I’ll take it! I’ll pay you the whole amount.”
“No, no, I am selling it at a discount. Our friend couldn’t make it.”
He grins like a cheshire cat. Or in my language, he has the look of one who has just received grace.
Ooops, I talked about my being a scam suspect and forgot all about the movies. (Reviews on my next posts, I promise.)
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