The other day on my way home, the jeepney I was riding on nearly fell on its side. PUJ drivers find a certain pleasure in cooking up clever ways to beat the traffic. My driver wanted to break a couple of Physics laws and squeezed our ride into an almost non-existent sliver of road. He didn’t notice that the rotonda (with the big Christmas tree at the foot of Session Road) we were just passing was breaking a couple of Physics laws itself. It came out of nowhere. He drove right over one of its corners, and the jeep tilted precariously to the left. I was sitting on the right side, so I was the one who got thrown around. The two other girls opposite me just got a front-row seat to witness my temporary departure from gravity. I don’t get embarrassed by that sort of thing, but I was incensed when I saw the plastic bag carrying my santol was ripped. One of them could have fallen out, for chrissake. My bag also found its way violently to the floor, but was returned by one of my audience. It was an interactive show.
My heart was beating out of my chest, but I didn’t show any outward sign of being rattled. Those two other girls were lucky, because they could laugh and talk about it afterwards. They even had a little role play going about who could make the best walang reaction face. She was sitting across from them. I had to prematurely shrug the whole ordeal off and comfort myself by hugging my santol a little tighter. The driver, on the other hand, looked mortified and kept knocking on his rearview mirror, probably wishing it was wood. His colleagues were sniggering in their own front seats. They’re harsh. And we were still stuck in traffic.
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I saw Ocean’s 13 yesterday and I have to admit, sequels sure are getting better. It was a good decision to bring them back to Vegas for this one. The humor was sharp, not like Ocean’s 12, where they were trying too hard. There was wit and cleverness, and the slapstick wasn’t too shabby either. Lately, it seems complicated plots are rubbing me the right way. Like the two other Ocean’s flicks, this one had the trademark planning and scheming…and canoodling (yeah, there was canoodling c/o a Cyrano-ed Matt Damon). I’m not sure if this one beats out the first, but it certainly leaves the second one in the dust.
