Binibining Palengke

For the past nine years I've gone to work at the drugstore's main office that's located right next to a public market which I've never bought anything from until, oh, around two weeks ago. I didn't need to do the food shopping when I still lived at my mom's house, but I certainly could have done my shopping at the market when I moved out three years ago, right? I don't know, it didn't seem to be such a good idea whenever I staggered out of my cubicle at somewhere past 10 PM. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there and fix dinner.

For the longest time, I bought my vegetables in pre-packed plastic bags from the supermarket. 7 times out of ten there would be a fat worm in one of the eggplants, small larvae sleeping in the cabbage, or a hairy green thing in the pechay. I didn't realize what a bad deal I was getting until I wandered into the veggie area of Nepa Qmart to get two eggplants and some beans. I thought the man was joking when he charged me seven pesos. If this were the supermarket in my neighborhood I would have been forking out more than twice as much money. Which means I have been willingly letting myself get fleeced for the past three years. Aaaargh! I'm a stupid broad, that's what I am.

I clocked out of the office at 10 PM this evening and went straight to my usual vegetable dealer for the usual beans, potatoes, eggplants and a chayote. I made friends with a six-year old boy who pretended to be manning the stall; he called a green pepper an eggplant. I went along with it. He charged me twenty-eight pesos for everything, until his father came along, hauled the boy aside and weighed the vegetables. Forty pesos.

It says on my watch that it's 12:18 am, Sunday. Happy Easter!