JUST ONE MORE DRINK

JUST ONE MORE DRINK

12" x 17", pen and ink on paper

11:00 p.m.

Walking along Libertad, one could see how the evening wears on for many of those who live and work along this street. A saleslady hurries through the dark eager to be home. An old woman set up her table, putting on her basket of balut hoping tonight her whole inventory is sold. Trucks filled with carcasses of animals hanging on hooks, parking by the side of the road ready to be carried into the half-empty market. A group of young men walk by bragging to each other how their favorites scored at tonight's basketball game. Then there's me, walking along sniffing the night air of a city resting within in its bowels.

A few meters from my door I see a lone man. He sits beside a table that has seen better days. A plate is set before him with two uneaten chicken legs. There're a few bottles of beer and a cigarette smoldering in its ashtray. I see that he's drunk. Perhaps had one too many.

I recognize him as the guy who brings up the LPG to my apartment whenever I buy it from the nearby gas store. He grins. I grin. He says hello. I say nothing.

He lifts up his bottle, calls to me, "Isa pang tagay (Just one more drink)".

Wearily he flashes his night-time grin…and I walk on, gently nodding to him.

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2March2006