So, You're .. uh .. Filipino? (P.4)

Earlier this evening, after school, I went to this Korean - Chinese - Japanese internet café. The place was nice; the workers were polite, giving me three Good-Evenings in less than ten seconds; and best of all, you can smoke inside. It’s in Ortigas, along Pearl Drive, fronting the University of Asia and the Pacific.

Anyway… as soon as I entered the shop, the guard warmly greeted me with a smile. “Gohd debneeng Ser!” I just nodded. That’s odd, I thought. After a second or two, one of the attendants approached me.

“Good evening, Sir! Internet or gaming?” he inquired.
“Internet…” I answered.
“This way Sir.” he said, ushering me to the cashier.

“Hi Sir! Good evening!” the plump cashier greeted me. She welcomed me so energetically as if greeting customers makes her horny. I was frightened with her up-to-the-ceiling enthusiasm. I reciprocated the greeting with a faint “Hello”.

“English? Korean? Or Chinese?” she asked, words rapidly spewed forth from her mouth.
“I’m sorry?”

“We have Korean and Chinese language-ready computer stations. So … English, Korean or Chinese?” the flab under her chin jiggled with every word. She’s still smiling, flashing me her toothy grin.

“Tagalog, meron?” I asked jokingly. I chuckled, she did not. This time her smile disappeared; her thick eyebrows converged at the middle. She stared at me for awhile, like a student staring at a very complicated mathematical equation. From me, she shifted her eyes to another attendant.

She called out, “Bobby! Station twelb!”