A year ago I attended an officemate’s wedding. It was fun. We cheered the newlyweds. We ate. We drank wine. We had our pictures taken. Then our officemate, who I shall call Simon, started calling out names of male friends who were still single. Siyempre isa na ako dun.
We reluctantly walked towards the front. Oras na pala para sa garter-getting contest. Each of us were given a balloon. The emcee informed us of the game’s mechanics. What we needed to do was inflate the balloon. Whoever has the smallest inflated balloon after a pre-determined time wins unless someone unexpectedly explodes his balloon.
And there was a twist. We needed to blow it using our nose. I was aghast. I would surely win the game since I had the colds. I muttered expletives. I heard the emcee gave additional instructions but I didn’t mind her. I was too focused strategizing on how to inflate the damn balloon.
Then it was game on. I blew and blew through my nose. I saw a teammate whose balloon was smaller than mine. I was ecstatic. After a few seconds I saw that his balloon was getting bigger than mine. I got desperate and blew harder. I heard laughter and I thought these people are enjoying our misery. Then boom! Simon’s best friend’s balloon exploded. More laughter. I heaved a sigh of relief. Di ako nanalo. Wohooo!
But then the emcee approached me and asked what my name was. She was obviously amused and I wondered why. Then she told me that we weren’t supposed to blow the balloon through the nose. It was just a freaking joke! Binawi nya pala ang naunang instuction but I wasn’t listening. Now I know why everyone was laughing. It was embarassing standing infront of those people with cameras flashing. I blushed. I wanted to be that villain in Terminator 2 and melt by will. I found the whole thing funny and laughed at my stupidity while mentally saying Fuck!