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The job (standard:drama, 436 words) | |||
Author: jopoguerrero | Added: Nov 27 2009 | Views/Reads: 3156/2 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
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Last week, while leisurely walking along Rizal St. in Laoag City, a car screeched near me as the driver hollered my name. I looked closer at the driver and I recognized an old friend of mine – actually, he was one of my closest buddies during my years in UP Diliman. Upon his invitation, I gladly joined him in his car and we headed to the heart of the city for a snack – his treat, of course. We ecstatically reminisced our days in AS 101, Narra Residence Hall, the Sunken Garden, the Tambayans, the Gulod and even the famous or infamous Diliman Lagoon. Then, in the middle of our laughter, he abruptly digressed to the issues of my life. In a brotherly tone, he asked, “How are you now? I heard that after almost 20 years in media, you still don't have your own house, you still don't drive your own car, and you are still buried in debts. Why?” Like all truths, his questions hurt me. I simply answered, “Well, media profession is not really a pot of gold. Actually, media is one of the most stressful yet most badly paid jobs in the world. ” “What do you mean not a pot of gold?” he suddenly grimaced. “I know of reporters who were able to acquire their own cars in less than a couple of years from their entry in the industry. Some were even able to travel abroad for countless times. Others were able to immediately start building their own house. I'm sorry, but the problem must be in you.” I wanted to counter his straight-talks, but his premises were firewalls. I simply uttered, “Maybe I am not as enterprising as them – maybe, I am not as good as them when it comes to the tricks of life.” He sighed and said, “Well, learn those tricks.” Silence reigned between us after he mouthed those words. Then he broke it off, “So, where will I drop you, pal?” I smiled and said, “Right where you found me, my friend.” After expressing my gratitude for the ride and the snack, he drove off. For a while, I watched the car claim a distance at a considerable speed. As I continued my walk, I whispered to myself words that I should have told my now very rich friend – “I know the tricks of life. I have also played them to the bones, like a pig in its cold sty. But at a certain point, you have to choose between the tricks of life and life itself. I have chosen life.” I smiled and held my head up high. Tweet
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