The Pick-Up

It all started with a manicure.

I needed to gussy myself up for a job interview, so I got myself a french-tipped manicure. When I saw how pretty they were, I had to get them for my tootsies as well.

Wearing my power suit, new two-inch high-heeled pumps, my hair in a neat bun and wearing delicate perfume, I was startled how I almost forgot how much of being female was actually to be feline. How being so feminine forced a tomboy like me to act willowy and graceful (which I'm totally not) and why girly-girls hate being scruffy.

Even after the interview, My pretty, pretty manicure made me more aware how the way I dressed influenced the way I moved. My usual uniform were sneakers, jeans and a t-shirt, and I never really cared that my hair was askew most of the time (hey as long as I smelled nice I was okay).

I became more conscious of how I dressed. I wanted my look to complement my manicure. My t-shirts gave way to my assymetrical blouses, low-cut shirts and pretty earrings and necklaces that I only usually wear on saturdays, or when I party hardy.

Last Friday on my way home to my parents, a man sat beside me on the bus. He was cute, in an Erwin Tulfo-macho sort of way. His biceps bulged beneath his trim black shirt, and his toned gym-hardened body was evident at the way his jeans rippled. Not too beefcake, nice! I thought to myself. His sharp features were hidden behind a pair of black shades.

To my surprise, he struck up conversation. He said that he was on his way to the LTO office in Paranaque to replace his stolen car plate, etc, etc.

Now this was not really out of the ordinary. For some women, like me, it is not. Some of the guys that I encounter are ugly, some look okay, but most of the time, they act no better than your garden-variety manyakis (pervert). The only cute guy that I liked that asked for my number was a guy who was manning a burrito stand in Cubao, who said he owned the franchise. I had a boyfriend then so I just shrugged it off.

So what made this special? The guy was cute! Now girls out there, doesn't it feel great to feel desirable sometimes? Yes yes.

He eventually asked for my number. He even asked me to have lunch with him, but I turned it down because I don't trust people that easily. He offered to take me at least to the jeepney stop, to which I relented. It was flattering. I don't really care if he calls or not. He just made my day.

The power of the pretty manicure lives to this day. This experience has convinced me to ditch my old look and adopt being feline.

It's great to be a girl! Todo na 'to!