Death on an Afternoon: Part 4

Then, a Goth/punk couple. Of course being Goths, they wore black everything; black garb, black nails, black mascara, black bling-blings (Hmm… I like the sound of it, black bling bling), black everything. The guy, taking Goth-ness to a new level, even had black stains on his teeth. Honestly, I’m not sure if it was an accessory/fashion or he’s teeth were just … bad.

But I’m inclined with a second theory since the stains were all over the place; it’s not pantay (evenly distributed). Well, I dunno, I could be wrong. Or maybe he ate really runny chocolates and forgot to floss.

The gothic chick was rather pretty; black wardrobe against her colorless skin, very soft facial features yet a grim expression plastered across her pixie-like visage, her manananggal-inspired hairstyle framed her small, melanin-deprived face. Just think of Snow White not washing her hair for ten years and you’ll get the picture.

She was wearing very thick mascara; so heavy it was almost impossible to tell whether her eyes were closed or she didn’t have any whites on her eyeballs. But she was attractive nonetheless, she looked like Hilary Duck, I mean Duff, with a neck.

But the guy’s a different story, and far more interesting than the girl. He’s so goddam worthy of note, I’m afraid words cannot suffice. How should I put this? He’s so challenging to describe.

Think of a small featherless chicken dipped in black paint; short legs, stretched upper body, small head, round face, bulging eyes, slightly curved back. I’m lost for words, told you he’s a challenge. Look now, I’m not ridiculing anyone here; in fact, I’m intrigued by his appearance. Besides, I’m in no position to lambaste anyone for their looks because I’m no GQ material either.

Around his thin neck dangled a humongous inverted crucifix that must weigh at least a kilo. No wonder his back seemed bent. Also, he’s sporting a mo-hawk so tall (?) you could easily mistake it for a giant black pamaypay. I thought it was cool, really! I remembered my Goth friend, Paulo, and wondered what he’d look like sporting that look. I chuckled at the idea.

Plus, the lower lip ring, hundreds upon hundreds of bangles that reached all the way to his elbows, that black matte lipstick, that black aura; I wondered what else’s black.

As usual, the conios, and the pa-conios. I thought Florita already drowned these vermins into non-existence. With their huge, bloated heads, I had to walk sidewalks like a crab in order to pass through.

(to be concluded...)