NEMESIS

(WARNING: With this article, I am exorcising demons (demonesses?) from my past. If you happen to be an administrative assistant, female, short, dusky, flat-chested, buck-toothed, or any combination of the above, please do NOT take offense. I had some very definite people in mind when I wrote this, and chances are, they do not include you.)


Beware the short, dusky, flat-chested Administrative Assistant. And if she happens to have bucked teeth, run for the hills with your boyfriend in tow.

Twice in my life, I have been cheated upon, with older women sporting prominent overbites, straight from the Nora Aunor cookie-cutter, playing the much-despised role of The Other Woman.

The first time it happened to me, I didn't know what was coming. A single phone call in the middle of the night and I was broadsided with information overload that made me regret taking the call in the first place.

I knew her voice right away. She with the trying-hard English. This woman was the sort of receptionist who said "Hold on please", the "please" here pronounced "plehs". It made me shudder to hear her butcher this common phrase.

I honestly wondered what my boyfriend saw in her, although I had no doubt what she saw in HIM. After all, he was this Spanish-speaking cono-kid from La Salle who lived in SanLo, his family owning two more homes, in Dasma and Ayala Alabang no less, which they rented out to foreign diplomats. Yes, they had money.

She proceeded to tell me to "let go of A. because his girlfriend was pregnant". I thought she was out of her mind. After all, to the best of my knowledge, I was still A.'s girlfriend, and I sure as heck wasn't pregnant!

And then the sordid reality of her message hit home and my world crashed all around me.

I called up my boyfriend and broke up with him. And then I called my best friend, Coco Quisumbing, who came straight from her late-evening newscast to pick me up, ferry me over to her nearby flat, make me tea, ply me with tissues, and let me cry all over her designer jacket sponsored by ShoeMart.

Of course, when I broke up with "A.", he quickly ended his relationship with her, and proceeded to ask me back.

As for the baby? Well, Ms. Receptionist mysteriously had a "miscarriage" after that was over. I honestly doubt there was a baby in the first place. Yes, some women will stoop this low to get what they want.

Unfortunately, this pattern was repeated in subsequent relationships of mine, with Caucasian men who had dalliances behind my back with the La Aunor type. I guess, just like my former tisoy boyfriend, they also equated "short, dark and homely" with "exotic".

Since then, I have sworn off relationships with men whose skin was fairer than my own. There were simply far too many women out there who were shorter, darker, had flatter chests and no orthodontists, and who could therefore be considered more "exotic" than me.

It was my present husband who broke the mold. Lorenzo happens to be darkly handsome, sporting a rosy moreno hue which I find so sexy. And the best part of it all? He loves the fact that I am maputi.


We all have our nemeses. Mine is the short, dusky, flat chested older woman from Administration.

Bucked teeth optional.