I have just ended a phone call with my travel agent, Miss Glecy. I was asking her to quote me a trip to Boracay, anytime in 2011. Yes, I want to go back there. I have to. Alone.
|Isko conquers Bora in 2009|
Anyway, our conversation was cheery. I was glad that she still recognized me. We were exchanging courtsies – me commending her expanding business, she asking me about the new company I am working for. It was like keeping in touch with an old friend – me talking about how neat their website has become
(view site here), she trying to pick hints on why I suddenly resigned from my previous job. She was curious since my work changes whenever I get in touch with her.
The phone call went on – me was haggling for cheaper rates, she telling me about new spots she discovered and would greatly reccommend to clients. It was all a string of positive exchanges until…
“So how’s ?”
But of course she remembers you, dumbo!
She arranged our first Bora trip.
Me was dumbfounded.
Gloom. Gloom. Gloom.