Cantina Burritos, Taquitos, Pale Pilsen and the End of the World.

by Ahmedy Paglinawan on August 21, 2010 We agreed to meet under a lamp post at the corner of Marcos Highway and that street just before Katipunan. The homeless kids, along with homeless adults, were at the end of their rugby-fuelled revelry. They did not bother us. We did not bother them. I could see the sadness in his eyes as he watched them.

Tchk, how did we get here?

Aside from your being an idiot? Well, you did your self-sacrifice bit on that wooden contraption. I told you not to do it. You just wouldn't listen.

It was a pretty good idea at the time.

Yeah, for a while they thought we really hate each other. They were buying it.

Do we?
You tell me. Are we friends?

Oh hey, there's Cantina! Man, I miss burritos!

Wait, waaait! Don't do that! We have to use THAT.

Oh yeah footbridge. People.

So what's up with you?

I feel it's time.

It is? When? Where? ... What's the matter? ... Oh, dear. Oh no... You don't want it to be... Come on, man.

...
Is this another one of your "pretty good idea at the time"?

One burrito. Taquitos for my friend. And two pales, please. Charge everything to my friend here. He's rich and sinful. Thank you, Miss.
You don't want to do it? Why? What the hell is the matter with you, man? Come on! It's easy. You taught me how to do it when you handed me the script. Remember? I still have it somewhere in my house in Calumpang.

Guilty as charged. Perhaps I shouldn't have. Oh yeah you live there. You were hit?
Yeah. Waist-deep inside the house. It kinda sucked. My CD collections, books, law books even. All gone.

Sorry about that.

Don't be. People sort of remembered US, or should I say YOU, because of that shit.

Sometimes I wish I never wrote that script in the first place. It was wrong then. It's very wrong now.
I'm telling you it's easy. I got the hang of it a couple of generations after the fall. About 200 hundred years. Breeze.

I can do the act. What I don't have is the reason for it. Much less the need.
What are you talking about? What is this cryptic BS? Let's do it! They have forgotten YOU. Hell, they've even forgotten ME! It's time to show them we're boss.

I guess HE didn't see this coming, eh?

Oh that's right. Blame the old man! Let's get another round, shall we?

Yes, please.
Does it matter whose idea it was?

No. It didn't matter then. It doesn't matter now. I'm giving them a chance.
Oh no sir, you're not. You're not giving them a chance. You're giving yourself a fucking excuse. You love these little shit.

Yeah, well...
Anyway how's everyone back home? I miss the music. Do they still do that staring-at-the-setting-sun thing?

Yeah, at six. It hasn't changed a bit. Except for the computers and cell phones. This iPhone thing. I don't understand it.
I use the Windows Mobile myself.

What's that?
Never mind.

How's she?
She's fine. She misses you and the old man. She doesn't enjoy the script as much as I do. She wants to go home.

Hmmmm, I guess she'll just have to wait.

I'm not gonna be the one to tell her that. You do that.

Crap. I hate this. I hate this entire thing. I don't want this to end. Not yet. Perhaps not at all.
Yep. What's beautiful doesn't have to be good, right? Hehehe! I should know...

What..? We should be over the good-bad stuff by now. Jeez, that's 4.54 billion years ago.
Ok you know I hate the morality talk. I'm just doing what the script tells me to. You should too. So we can end this all and go home.

And after that? What?

Well... Hmmmm... I see your point. It could get damn boring.

I'm out of beer. Last round? For the... ether?

Why not. So. What do we do?

I don't know about you. I know what I'm NOT going to do.
You will trash the script? Fuck that! No. Please. Not after all this. Not after all I've done. All I've been through.

Hey, I fucking died on that mountain, man.

Yeah, yeah... Whatever. People hate me. Kids are scared of me. Those punks at the Vatican just got it all wrong about me. Why, I'm good-looking and sexy in a sinful kind of way. And you, you only died once. Whereas I suffer, every single day, the pains of dying. And yet I can't. Do you know how frustrating that is?

I think I do. Not sure, though... I want to be like those kids. They are beauty. They are happiness. Us, we are scum. We are useless. We have become useless because we left them. Alone. We started the show and just left them to it. We don't deserve their lives and dreams.

You are such a fucking drama queen, man. But yeah I agree. So, what do we do?

Do what you want to do. You already know what i'll do.
I can't do what I want. I can't want. The script. It's all I have. It's all I can.

Fuck the script. These people had no script. At least not coming from us. Look at them. They're fine. They could use some compassion, though. But I'm sure they'll get to that soon. They can achieve anything they want. Because they can want.
So we will want?

I guess so.
That easy?

...
What? ... Very well. I'm glad we talked. Good food, San Miguel beer, end of the world. Ah, this is the life. Check out the Arnean chicks! Did you know there's San Mig Light now?

I hate that shit. It's not beer at all.

Yeah, me too. It's been too long since we talked. The world has changed so much.

It has, indeed.
I'll see you again soon, my brother. Say hi to the old man for me, aight?

Sure thing.
...

Oh, and Satan...

Yes, Jesus?

Oh, never mind.

I walked out of Cantina a thousand bucks poorer. Thinking. Re-thinking. Ending. Beginning. Wanting. Whereas, He just stood up, snapped his fingers and disappeared. Fucking show off. As I walked down Katipunan toward the jeep terminal on the other side of Aurora, I said to myself: I think I want to learn to whistle.