In My Own Words - Ron Centeno

By all account, Ces is an amazing woman (Pls refer to my other blogs why). But Ces is just half of the whole. Equally amazing is a woman named Ting, her sister. Let me tell you why.

On two separate occasions, Ting and I had some quick conversations over the phone and online chatting. Both of which were similarly disarming and maligning, at least on my part. Her point of contention is the thought that my propensity for Ces is kind of run-of-the-mill. Put in another word, I am not good enough for her sister.

It was apparent how much Ting would protect her elder sister at all cost. Over at the other line, she was quite menacing. Immediately, she was on the attack mode. It was never pleasant at all. I felt humiliated and defenseless. Her whole idea is for me to prove her wrong only to confirm the worthiness of my good intentions for her sister - a tactic worth emulating in a war of wit.

Despite her knock-out-punch grandiloquent, I was determined to meet her in person. Armed to her teeth, she graciously accepted my request. It was totally unexpected. My prior assumption was that she would flatly rebuff my asking her.

Hence, in December of 2007 when I visited Manila for a holiday, I met Ting for the first time. The venue was the Glorieta Mall. Yes, the same mall where the scene of explosion claimed the lives of a number of unsuspecting shoppers. I must admit I was fidgety. No, not with the bomb threat but with Ting herself – a walking dynamite, so-to-speak.

That December afternoon was supposed to be a little breezy but my body temperature seemed to defy human nature. I felt my palms were a little sweaty giving me some sort of consoling effect in case she won’t bother to shake my hands. Indeed, she did not. I arrived five minutes late. She probably hated to wait, I thought to myself. I was hoping that was the real reason she avoided a handshake. I asked her where to go. She signaled me the way and strode toward an Italian restaurant.

Evidently, Ting is a person of substance and form. She is smart, direct and deliberate with her words. She’s a standout and captivating. However, she hates sweet talks and takes flatteries as offense. I’m glad I was briefed earlier before we’ve met. Otherwise I could have uttered the many superlatives that would match her looks. It was tempting, I must admit.

As soon as we were ushered in and settled ourselves onto the seats in that Italian restaurant, she blurted out why was she there in the first place. I didn’t know the answer and dismissed the question. Immediately, my eyes were transfixed at the knife she was holding on her right hand and the fork on the other. I was wondering why she had to grab them first instead of the menu. Momentarily, she looked at me in the eyes and asked if I were alright. With all my mustered pretentions, I said yes.

The pasta was absolutely delectable. A complete contrast over at the topic Ting and I predicted to discuss during the entire time we were dining. She was vehement in her position that I lacked the ingredients of sustaining a well-grounded relationship with her sister. In turn, I was intransigent in negating her claim. She was hell-bent on it and so was I.

The dinner was over in less than an hour but it seemed like forever. Soon, we hit the door and bid goodbye. Just like almost an hour ago when we first met, there was no handshake. In minutes, Ting disappeared along the bustling crowd of the Glorieta Mall.