Orange, The Novel - Prologue

The parking lot was empty on a Saturday, and the office folk weren’t at work. She had an internship interview at the Orient Square Ortigas, and I had to pick her up. Her session was finally done - thank god; I hated waiting. We made our way across the sandy parking lot.

She bitched about the interview, and how the lady she talked to was ridiculously formal. “Hello? Just hire me, okay?” she wanted to tell her. “It’s not a big deal. You’ll just tell me to gofer this, gofer that, make you coffee and kiss your ass, so I’d pass my practicum.”

And then, she talked about this sale at Shangri-La Mall. “It is awesome, honey. They’re cleaning out their old footwear stock, so the prices are unbelievably cheap! We really have to go.”

Sure, it was a good deal - if you considered four thousand bucks for things you’d just step on as cheap. Not to mention that whooping fifteen percent discount, of course.

I was okay with hanging around the mall. But about that particular sale - jesus, give me a break! That lousy shop’s been on sale for three months! Clear out the inventory my ass. My girlfriend was as gullible with stupid sales stints as a kid who believed in some heavyweight, red-suited geezer climbing down a chimney. If it weren’t for her pretty face, I would’ve left her.

That, and the sex, I mean.

So we were walking across the parking lot when strong winds suddenly blew, making all the dirt fly into the air for several moments. When the whirlwind died, I put an arm around her waist and said, “That was pretty cool, huh?”

She straightened out her hair. “Cool? You mean, getting dirt in your eyes? That is so not cool, honey.”

“No, I meant the whirlwind.”

“What whirlwind?”

I rolled my eyes. “The one that just passed? All that crap flying all over the place? Anyway, it got me thinking about something.”

“About what?”

“Love stories.”

“Like a whirlwind romance thingy?”

“Well, yeah, but I have my own interpretation.” I took a cigarette from my pocket. “You see, before you fall in love, you’re like leaves scattered around the parking lot, worlds apart and all. And then, love happens - the whirlwind - and you get swept up from where you were. You’re caught up in the moment, your thoughts and emotions spinning like mad. And when it ends, you settle back to the real world. After that, you’ve got the memory of the whirlwind in your head. If you were a leaf in this parking lot, you’ll remember that short span of time when you were, even for just a few seconds, closer to the skies.”

What I said was totally poetic.

“But honey, short love is just a fling-thing.”

I frowned. “Hey, it can still be special even if it happens just for a moment. Look at Romeo and Juliet - they had this express romance, but their stuff was definitely for real.”

She beamed. “You are so correct! They get married, and Romeo has sex with Juliet for one night. The next day, she dies on him. So Romeo kills himself. And then, Juliet like, you know, dies again, this time for real.” She shook her head. “That is so tragic, honey.”

The way her brain worked was tragic. Well, I didn’t expect her to get any deep stuff.

We then reached the car.

“Honey?” she said as I cleared the alarm.

“What?” I lit my cigarette.

“A sale is like a love story, too.”

I looked at her and said nothing.

“Because it’s short and everything, and people like me get really caught up in it, right?”

Jesus. “Cher, just get in the damn car.”