Friday, August 8, 2008

Verbal Shorthand

Friday, August 8, 2008

D asks, “Do you still love me?” I answer, “Very much. So you need to go now?” He replies, “How much? Two pesos?” I say, “Two-fifty, walang maski-maski.

That’s how our daily space-distanciated conversations usually end. For other couples, the question “do you still love me” requires a yes or no answer and means just that. To us it means something else. Whenever D utters that dreaded line, it’s an indication that he has to go. It’s his way of saying “bye-bye for now.”

The bulk of our relationship being conducted in a distance, we had unknowingly built some sort of verbal shorthand that consists of witticisms turned into truisms, adages made into jokes, and hackneyed phrases transformed into honored maxims. Lilipas din yan, beer volcanoes and female strippers, mag-check out kang mag-isa mo, walang maski-maski, and finding a pantalan are just some of them. In this bizarre system of quick allusions and sly winks that do not need any further referencing or elaboration, we continually create our own language and pay homage to each other's bizarreness.


Anonymous said...

Normal is boring. Yay to bizarreness! I guess it's expected that when two people form a close bond, words understandable to the masses aren't necessary.

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