Donna and I catapulted ourselves to the Hall of Shame last night.
It was around 6:45, and she'd just finished her Filipino Photojournalism contest. We were about to leave the contest hall when suddenly – poof! – the lights went out. It was as dark as night could ever be.
We found our way out into the main driveway, walking and walking, Crown Ballroom to our right and the parking area to the left.
“Look, that’s them; it’s the school van!” I said in vernacular to Donna.
She followed me as we made our way to said van. There was Ma’am Sybil upfront, the back of her head towards us. Beside her was someone who looked like… yes, Nong Isko! How nice of them to have brought our things to the car.
Donna proceeded to enter the van; the door was open, and some of the guys were chitchatting. I, on the other hand, positioned myself in front of Ma’am Sybil. Let me attempt to surprise her, I thought. I began tapping the windshield in front of our teacher.
Then, I saw the driver and realized it wasn’t Nong Isko.
Ma’am Sybil turned around – and it wasn’t her, either.
Shit.
A fraction of a moment later, Donna came out of the car with a look of extreme shock on her face.
Slowly, we inched away from the car.
It was around 6:45, and she'd just finished her Filipino Photojournalism contest. We were about to leave the contest hall when suddenly – poof! – the lights went out. It was as dark as night could ever be.
We found our way out into the main driveway, walking and walking, Crown Ballroom to our right and the parking area to the left.
“Look, that’s them; it’s the school van!” I said in vernacular to Donna.
She followed me as we made our way to said van. There was Ma’am Sybil upfront, the back of her head towards us. Beside her was someone who looked like… yes, Nong Isko! How nice of them to have brought our things to the car.
Donna proceeded to enter the van; the door was open, and some of the guys were chitchatting. I, on the other hand, positioned myself in front of Ma’am Sybil. Let me attempt to surprise her, I thought. I began tapping the windshield in front of our teacher.
Then, I saw the driver and realized it wasn’t Nong Isko.
Ma’am Sybil turned around – and it wasn’t her, either.
Shit.
A fraction of a moment later, Donna came out of the car with a look of extreme shock on her face.
Slowly, we inched away from the car.
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