I went with my friend Abi and her friend Magazine Girl to the Rhyme & Rhythm poetry gig over at Greenbelt. I had no intention of going earlier, thinking that I'd be a good girl and get some work done. But she said it'll be fun and Angel Aquino was going to read something. I can be easily corrupted. Hehe.

Abi's friend said the event would start at 7pm, sharp. But because of another event we attended -- rather promptly, only for it to be delayed countless times, we thought we learned our lesson and we had dinner first. By the time we got there around 7.30pm, the poetry reading was well under way. We caught part of Angel Aquino reading from Ramon Sunico's Bruise. She sat on this high chair in front of a food-court like arrangement in front of Kitchen. People were having dinner and conversation and would occasionally nod at the recognizable turn of phrase from the reader. The people's attentions were just too scattered for it to be a cozy event. But well, they would like to bring poetry to the mall-going public. Which is still weird because most of the people in attendance were musicians, friends of musicians, writers from magazines and stuff, and people who heard about the gig from friends. But anyhow, their cause comes first. They should just rethink the location.

While the hosts announced the open mike part, we noticed that the marquee says Barbie Almalbis of Barbie's Cradle would be the main reader for next week. Then Abi noticed one of the Barbie Clones from last Sunday's church service was there. If one of the clones was there, could the Real Barbie be far behind? Apparently she was right. Just beside Clone #1 was a girl in a grey snakeskin pattern cowboy hat. Magazine Girl cannot get what the fuzz was about.

Anyhow, open mike was boring except for this guy Andres Bulate who frequently performs in Sanctum. The event finished early and we decided to have dessert at Cafe Breton. Then within ten minutes we heard the table behind us giggle. Somebody was getting all the attention in the place. I don't have to tell you who it was. Meanwhile, Magazine Girl rolls her eyes while she mutters. "Fangirls."