I set off early this morning for an important meeting. Not the usual meeting with architects and engineers and taipans, this is way more important. I’m meeting with my palengke suki for this week’s wet market item needs: chicken, pork, fish, veggies and fresh buko juice. All the touching, smelling, haggling, buying -also the squeezing, pushing, shoving through the thick, noisy, smelly, dirty crowd -oh yeah, I used to do all these. But due to covid restrictions, I had to figure out a safer way to do the marketing. I asked my veggie suki to do it all for me for a crisp Manuel Roxas each time. Yes, I’m cheap. I text him the list that my wife Rissa prepares the day before. Then meet up the following morning.

Do I miss doing the wet market? Not really. Except perhaps there were times when I show up a few weeks after going away, some would ask, "Were you on a holiday?" Yeh that. Verbatim. With a British accent. They miss this tall, lanky, balding, fish-babe magnet manong with a Nike reusable eco-bag.

I’ve learned to adjust to the call of the wild. Cheers.

#MyCafeNotes