Mama Mary, Tatay Gardo and Wilson Philips (yeah all in one story)
My good friend Lucyl, who is quite a bit of a wordsmith (just like I am. Wink! Wink!) was the first to blog about this topic but she wanted my own take on it on my blog instead of re-posting hers so here goes.
I was rooming with my batchmate Janette and several younger girls during my sophomore year in college (I went to that university symbolized by that naked guy who likes to flash everyone who ever enters
the campus. That's a dead giveaway). One of those younger roomies was Lucyl who was a freshman then. We shared the same tiny room with bunk beds (in the typical boardinghouse fashion) in a house near our school. Lucyl was among the first (new) boarders to arrive and her encounter with the landlady was not out of the ordinary except for the bit where the landlady told her her name is Mary and insisted that she be called "Mama Mary". Due probably to her "all - girls Catholic school" upbringing, Lucyl automatically felt like reciting all the mysteries of the Holy Rosary in front of the landlady upon hearing that. But she was able to control herself and just genuflected and crossed herself in secret (old habits die hard).
Anyway, that was nothing compared to the landlord. We call him Tatay Gardo (I forgot his real name). He was in his sixties then and he has a habit of parading in his underpants
(really huge ones with loose waistbands. Oh the horror!) hence the name Gardo taken from Gardo Versoza who was the happening male sex symbol at that time. Like that wasn't enough, whenever we had to use the phone or get something from the fridge, we had to go to Mama Mary's and Tatay Gardo's room because that was where the phone and the fridge were at. And whenever we go inside, we'd always find Tatay Gardo lying on his bed like a beached whale while watching TV, in his underpants, no less. No wonder I was such a disturbed kid at that time.
If you've lived in a boardinghouse, you know better than to leave your personal belongings lying around co'z anything left alone in plain sight of the other people living there is fair game. Including the owners' belongings. One night, it was the landlord's liquor cabinet (you know how Pinoys are, they just display their liquor in their nice bottles wthout actually consuming them). So we chugged some. While we were at it we saw a plastic bottle of Hershey's Brown Cow on the dining table beckoning to us (I had alcohol in my system then ok?) so we all rushed to it and I was the first at it. Feeling quite smug from my small victory over my roomies and with a stupid smile on my face, I quickly flipped open the plastic top dispenser, placed the bottle over my face, aimed it at my mouth, and waited for all that chocolatey goodness. Then I was gagging. The thing had soy sauce in it instead of chocolate syrup. Almost on the verge of tears, I hauled my soy sauce drenched self to the bathroom and had shower for the second time around that night.
When I was all clean and soy sauce free, we retired to our room and together, my roomies and I sang Wilson Philips hits (that was the 90s, people!) complete with the blending of voices.
That was just one day. Imagine what four years might have been like.
I was rooming with my batchmate Janette and several younger girls during my sophomore year in college (I went to that university symbolized by that naked guy who likes to flash everyone who ever enters
the campus. That's a dead giveaway). One of those younger roomies was Lucyl who was a freshman then. We shared the same tiny room with bunk beds (in the typical boardinghouse fashion) in a house near our school. Lucyl was among the first (new) boarders to arrive and her encounter with the landlady was not out of the ordinary except for the bit where the landlady told her her name is Mary and insisted that she be called "Mama Mary". Due probably to her "all - girls Catholic school" upbringing, Lucyl automatically felt like reciting all the mysteries of the Holy Rosary in front of the landlady upon hearing that. But she was able to control herself and just genuflected and crossed herself in secret (old habits die hard).Anyway, that was nothing compared to the landlord. We call him Tatay Gardo (I forgot his real name). He was in his sixties then and he has a habit of parading in his underpants
(really huge ones with loose waistbands. Oh the horror!) hence the name Gardo taken from Gardo Versoza who was the happening male sex symbol at that time. Like that wasn't enough, whenever we had to use the phone or get something from the fridge, we had to go to Mama Mary's and Tatay Gardo's room because that was where the phone and the fridge were at. And whenever we go inside, we'd always find Tatay Gardo lying on his bed like a beached whale while watching TV, in his underpants, no less. No wonder I was such a disturbed kid at that time.
If you've lived in a boardinghouse, you know better than to leave your personal belongings lying around co'z anything left alone in plain sight of the other people living there is fair game. Including the owners' belongings. One night, it was the landlord's liquor cabinet (you know how Pinoys are, they just display their liquor in their nice bottles wthout actually consuming them). So we chugged some. While we were at it we saw a plastic bottle of Hershey's Brown Cow on the dining table beckoning to us (I had alcohol in my system then ok?) so we all rushed to it and I was the first at it. Feeling quite smug from my small victory over my roomies and with a stupid smile on my face, I quickly flipped open the plastic top dispenser, placed the bottle over my face, aimed it at my mouth, and waited for all that chocolatey goodness. Then I was gagging. The thing had soy sauce in it instead of chocolate syrup. Almost on the verge of tears, I hauled my soy sauce drenched self to the bathroom and had shower for the second time around that night.
When I was all clean and soy sauce free, we retired to our room and together, my roomies and I sang Wilson Philips hits (that was the 90s, people!) complete with the blending of voices.
That was just one day. Imagine what four years might have been like.
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