I approached the security guard and told him that I had an appointment with Miss Ali Dedicatoria on the seventh floor. He was unsure whether Miss Ali was already upstairs, so he asked for identification and dialed the local of the seventh floor. As soon as he read my last name, he asked whether Miss Ali and I are related in any way.
Ah, pinsan ko po.
Pareho kasi kayong Nokom, eh.
He told me that she was still not in her office, and asked me to wait in the waiting lounge. I entered the small, air-conditioned room that was almost full of people from different walks of life. The television tuned into channel seven (of course) distracted them from looking at each other, questioning themselves the different reasons why the people waiting in there met in that small, cramped, window-lit room. My eyes tried to wander around and look at the people around me, but the discomfort my feet which have only worn sneakers for the past three years felt in wearing leather shoes stopped me from my attempts. I ended up watching Gelli, Janice, and Carmina cook different sorts of food for almost twenty minutes. But from time to time, people who looked like social workers came in and questioned people sitting beside me and behind me. As it turns out, those people where there because of their lost children, siblings, or relatives. They brought along pictures of their missing loved ones, and all the poeple attending to them could do was to tell them they would do their best to air their grief. What relief would that do, I thought.
I went outside and asked Kuya if Miss Ali is already upstairs. After a few minutes, he gave me a visitor's ID and directed me to the building where all the important people of the Kapuso network is. After almost getting lost several times, I managed to arrive at the lobby and press the call button of the three elevators. An elevator soon opened, and after the surge of people rushing out, I stepped in, along with several other people.
As the elevator paneled with three mirrors hummed and climbed its vertical corridor, I thought how fast life is. As I looked at the man in the mirror staring directly at me, I realized that I'm no longer a kid. In less than a year or so, I will be the ones walking all over the metro for a well-paying job, or at least a job one likes to have. Well, my search for a company for internship is not different, I guess.
As the elevator produced its familiar ding-dong on the seventh floor, I prepared myself for what was to come. As the doors slid open, I was fascinated by what greeted me: there inside glass cabinets were the armors of Danaya, Alena, Pirena, and Amihan; the four Sang'gres of Encantadia, a show which I avidly watched during the time it was aired in the station. That made me build my courage and as I turned and entered the entertainment division, I saw Miss Ali and addressed her that way, even if we were cousins.
I brought my documents, but apparently, they needed the letters from the school. She directed me to Miss Princess, who would forward my application directly to the HR department. Before I left the floor, Miss Ali wrote her number in a small pink piece of Post-it, and handed it to me as she said to update her on my progress. I thanked her plenty, and without further delay, headed to Ateneo and acquired Sir Agloro's signatures for both Endorsement and Recommendation letters. Rushing back to the GMA Complex, I handed over my complete documents to Miss Princess and texted Miss Ali about it.
"Ok, tnx!: )"
For some reason, my size thirteen feet kept bugging me. It kept irritating me that I missed the chance to casually talk to people sitting next beside me. Everyone knows the feeling of everyone looking at you when you enter a room, but not everyone knows the weird atmosphere of people still looking at you fifteen minutes after you have entered the same room.
Ah, pinsan ko po.
Pareho kasi kayong Nokom, eh.
He told me that she was still not in her office, and asked me to wait in the waiting lounge. I entered the small, air-conditioned room that was almost full of people from different walks of life. The television tuned into channel seven (of course) distracted them from looking at each other, questioning themselves the different reasons why the people waiting in there met in that small, cramped, window-lit room. My eyes tried to wander around and look at the people around me, but the discomfort my feet which have only worn sneakers for the past three years felt in wearing leather shoes stopped me from my attempts. I ended up watching Gelli, Janice, and Carmina cook different sorts of food for almost twenty minutes. But from time to time, people who looked like social workers came in and questioned people sitting beside me and behind me. As it turns out, those people where there because of their lost children, siblings, or relatives. They brought along pictures of their missing loved ones, and all the poeple attending to them could do was to tell them they would do their best to air their grief. What relief would that do, I thought.
I went outside and asked Kuya if Miss Ali is already upstairs. After a few minutes, he gave me a visitor's ID and directed me to the building where all the important people of the Kapuso network is. After almost getting lost several times, I managed to arrive at the lobby and press the call button of the three elevators. An elevator soon opened, and after the surge of people rushing out, I stepped in, along with several other people.
As the elevator paneled with three mirrors hummed and climbed its vertical corridor, I thought how fast life is. As I looked at the man in the mirror staring directly at me, I realized that I'm no longer a kid. In less than a year or so, I will be the ones walking all over the metro for a well-paying job, or at least a job one likes to have. Well, my search for a company for internship is not different, I guess.
As the elevator produced its familiar ding-dong on the seventh floor, I prepared myself for what was to come. As the doors slid open, I was fascinated by what greeted me: there inside glass cabinets were the armors of Danaya, Alena, Pirena, and Amihan; the four Sang'gres of Encantadia, a show which I avidly watched during the time it was aired in the station. That made me build my courage and as I turned and entered the entertainment division, I saw Miss Ali and addressed her that way, even if we were cousins.
I brought my documents, but apparently, they needed the letters from the school. She directed me to Miss Princess, who would forward my application directly to the HR department. Before I left the floor, Miss Ali wrote her number in a small pink piece of Post-it, and handed it to me as she said to update her on my progress. I thanked her plenty, and without further delay, headed to Ateneo and acquired Sir Agloro's signatures for both Endorsement and Recommendation letters. Rushing back to the GMA Complex, I handed over my complete documents to Miss Princess and texted Miss Ali about it.
"Ok, tnx!: )"
For some reason, my size thirteen feet kept bugging me. It kept irritating me that I missed the chance to casually talk to people sitting next beside me. Everyone knows the feeling of everyone looking at you when you enter a room, but not everyone knows the weird atmosphere of people still looking at you fifteen minutes after you have entered the same room.
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