damn you, captain morgan!
Dear Captain Morgan,
You made me hate myself that night you decided to invade the Philippines. It was worse than your friend Magellan when he booked his cheap package holidays to our archipelago half a century ago and decided to change the fate of my country as my ancestors knew it. I know, I know… You are Welsh and the other guy was Portuguese, but you pirates are all the same. That night, you made me a corporate sell-out. You made me sit, together with my friends, at a marked table. A table that said “media.” The horror!
As the night went by, it became obvious that our friend, Jerik, had abandoned the ship. It was he who placed us under your mercy (Which reminds me, I haven’t even spoken to him since. Mental note: slap Jerik when I see him). You weren’t there when we arrived. I understand, your overcoat was too big and heavy and it takes getting used to. While we waited, you made me break my relationship with beer and instead commit adultery with rum. And you had to make it a threesome because I can’t have you without Coke!
You also knew my weakness… Greasy and loathsome barchows. Oh, how you wrapped me around your tiny little fingers…
By the time you arrived, I was on my second; no, wait… third glass, of your poison. I had to concentrate on looking at you like a pinata. You were sweeping the floor like crazy, dancing from one end to the other, ushering people to look inside your “treasure chest” and dig in to your “family jewels.”
And dude, did you really have to call your girls “Morganettes?” I mean, that’s so close to my name, I cringe whenever you said it! Alternately, I also imagined raisin-figured women coated in chocolates… I mean, come on!
I will never forget that night. It was crazy, but I have to admit it was fun. It felt like being sucked back to my 18-year old self. Now THAT you did to me…
Morganette. I mean, Monette (dammit!).
EPILOGUE | I came home super drunk. I can’t remember the last time I felt like that, the last time was maybe 4 or 5 years ago… I came home and did what drunk kids do, twice; and I did it again when I woke up in the morning. By the way, I also cannot explain how my bedsheet turned into my blanket… Damn you, Captain Morgan!!!