“Hey Dan! I read on this blog that Robert Duffy is here!”
“Who?”, I asked J on my mobile while I was stirring my regular one teaspoon of black coffee and two teaspoons of brown sugar to jumpstart my still wobbly brain. I hate mornings like this when I lack sleep and I carry around myself like dead weight on a cool cloudy day that whispers into my ears that enchanting word “sleep”.
“What do you mean “WHO”? Robert Duffy. The business partner of Marc Jacobs. You don’t know him? Ano ka ba?” she exclaimed in a high-pitched irritated voice – too irritating for the ear on a morning like this.
“Oh, yeah. That’s nice”, I was trying to sound chirpy though the only thing I can manage was a throaty, crackly voice. Something was stuck in my throat that I needed to expectorate on the kitchen sink. "Haruuumph!! Chraachtooee!"
My coffee in one hand, I walked heavily towards my living room still clutching my mobile to my ear.
“What time is it?” I asked her.
“Six,” she quipped.
“So, what about this Duffy guy,” I grunted.
“They’re finally going to open a Marc Jacobs store in
For a few seconds there was silence on the other end. I tried to imagine, in my half-awake state while sitting on the floor naked with a coffee mug, that this crazed woman was clutching, prayer-like her mobile to her chest making me listen to her thumping thump-thump beating heart.
“Oh, sige. Gotta go. When the store opens, you accompany me ha? Byeiii…” and she bids me goodbye in my own dazed silence, in that morning, on the floor, naked with my coffee mug in my hand wondering… Marc Jacobs who?