Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Imeldific
Monday, Aug. 21, past 10pm, Greenbelt 3. My friend Katski and I were walking past People’s Palace. Earlier that evening we had several celebrity sightings already—Borgy M. and his model girlfriend, Ilac Diaz and Sam Oh, uhm… well, that’s it. Anyway, as I glanced into the window of People’s Palace, I saw the ultimate in celebrity sighting. As in, the ultimate. I pointed her out to Katski. Inside the oh-so-chi-chi restaurant, with her signature bouffant and all, was none other than the Former First Lady Imelda Marcos, holding court to a table full of, oh, I have no idea who they were.
Katski turned to me and said: “Dare. Go in and get her autograph.”
I snapped back: “Double-dare. Go in, walk straight up to her, point an upturned finger at her, then say, in a very Nora Aunor My brother is not a peeeg! sort of way, ‘Do you know what day it is today, huh? Do you remember why we are on holiday, huuuh?!’”
Katski balked: “Ay. I can’t, no way.”
I insisted: “Okay, how about I accompany you inside? Hindi ka nag-iisa. How appropriate. How very Ninoy.”
Unfortunately neither she nor I had the guts to pull it off. So we left the former Iron Butterfly and went for coffee instead.
Katski turned to me and said: “Dare. Go in and get her autograph.”
I snapped back: “Double-dare. Go in, walk straight up to her, point an upturned finger at her, then say, in a very Nora Aunor My brother is not a peeeg! sort of way, ‘Do you know what day it is today, huh? Do you remember why we are on holiday, huuuh?!’”
Katski balked: “Ay. I can’t, no way.”
I insisted: “Okay, how about I accompany you inside? Hindi ka nag-iisa. How appropriate. How very Ninoy.”
Unfortunately neither she nor I had the guts to pull it off. So we left the former Iron Butterfly and went for coffee instead.
# posted by joelmcvie : 3:03 PM
