It Comes in Threes 1

My forehead was still glistening with sweat as I put my finger on the biometrics. The daily time record read 11:50 p.m. I had nine minutes to spare before my shift started. Despite of the things that happened, I had no intention of being late at all. With that thought in mind, I wiped the beads of perspiration on my nape, and entered my room on the office floor.

As I sat down in front of my station, I groped for the power button at the back of the iMac. It was comforting to hear the familiar click of the hard drive. What wasn't was the unfamiliar long beep that came afterwards, followed by a grey Apple screen with the loading wheel.

Nothing was responding. I tried pressing the keyboard, no effect. I tried pressing the power button, still no effect.

I had no idea how to troubleshoot it, as CPU isn't my area of expertise.

"Tonyyyyyyyyy, help! " I yelled from my room in rising and panicky tone of voice. "I'm stuck on the gray screeeeen!"

I didn't particularly care if the bratty side of me surfaced at that moment. It was a no-brainer to say that I needed that computer. I had just shifted from the browser-based email to the permanent e-mail client the day before. Not to mention all my important work-related files and documents were stored in that computer's hard disc. Having it up and running was non-negotiable, to put it mildly.

Did I just say I desperately needed that computer?

'I'm just going to grab coffee. If you can get it to boot properly, I swear, I'll treat you to lunch," I told my colleague as he started tinkering with the computer.

To think it was just the start of my day at the office.

And what a fucked up day it was turning out to be.

A major fucked up day.

-----

The night air was a tad cool, but scalding cusses were escaping in between my puffs from the cigarette.

"Putang ina, male-late ako nito. Bakit walang jeep?!"

I kept on glancing at my watch. 11:05 p.m. I was already waiting for ten minutes, with no jeep in sight. Finally, when the lonesome jeep arrived, it was predictably - what else? -  devoid of any available seating estate. It was either I wait till kingdom come, or make sabit at the back of the dilapidated vehicle. "Ternie, beggars can't afford to be choosy," I tried to remind myself. "Do you want to be at the office on time or not?"

Of course, Murphy's law has a way of kicking you further down the muck you're mired in. Originally, I didn't think it would turn out that way though. When I got off the jeep, there was actually a non-aircon bus already waiting at EDSA.

To those who aren't bus connoisseurs (as opposed to what I'd like to think I've been these past few months or so), if you need to get to on something fast, take a non-aircon bus. What would take around 30-40 minutes of travel in an aircon bus (with their propensity to wait for passengers at major stops) would only take me half the time if I ride a non-aircon bus. With the ever-present uneven paving along along the whole stretch of EDSA, riding an non-aircon is like getting on a roller-coaster - look Ma, no hands. Well, for me, it's more accurate to say that I always have my two hands in a death grip on the seat bar that's in front of me.

Yes, they're devilishly fast. And this particular bus was almost one hell of a drive for me.

To be fair about it, the bus was actually making good time along EDSA. Too much of a good time. It barely stayed at Cubao-ibabaw, and took the Santolan flyover instead of opting to go underneath it. Along the stretch fronting Corinthian Gardens, the bus raced on as if the hounds of hell was at its heels. At that point, I was kind of apprehensive. No - scared downright was more like it. I crossed my fingers and hoped it would go over the Ortigas flyover.

Tough luck for me.

It didn't.