My Sunday Night

My Sunday Night

A Story by RonnanTristan

Just a Sunday Rant..


Sunday night. The village was crowded with people as the mass ceremony in the nearby church inside the Varsity Hill ended.

Group of friends, families and the Carmelite nuns were few of the people I came across with along the sidewalk of Salvador Street as I found my way out of the village to take my dinner at a nearby restaurant. The crowd of people, throngs of them was trailing their way out, along with luxurious private transportation queuing at the exit gate of the high end subdivision.

 The exit gate is situated two blocks from the church.

The weather was a bit cooler that evening; I thought to myself. The early rain washed away the humidity of the afternoon heat and gave way to the breeze coil of the October wind. I could see the stars on the moonless sky; distant stars were dispersing in different direction occupying the infinite darkness with brilliant dots of light. The leaves of the coconut tree on the fifth house from my apartment were dancing in a slow and melodic motion, like a prima valerina gracefully swaying in an opera song. The weather was just what I wanted it; it was soothing, caring and its nostalgic and dramatic vibes was the best mood to back draft my evening.

As I exited the Village, I continued my slow pace stroll in the sidewalk of Alvero Street while the busy road of Katipunan Avenue was two blocks away from me. The flag pole high of the McDonald sign was a sight to behold. A towering vision of lights was luring possible diners to indulge in a gluttonous feast.  

In the nearby store, tricycle drivers with their vibrating commuter motors were taking their break before retiring home. Some Shakey’s crews were also having their last siesta in the other corner, a can of sodas, chips and a cancer sticks was the best way for them to unwind from a long day of work. Few college students were clamoring about their class lectures as they’d crossed the street heading my way. That made me think, how I missed being in a university, when all that needs to be done is to study hard, pass all the exams, pass out in a bar and be careless.

I missed those sweet days of my rebellious youth.

I crossed the vacant street of Avada, the short but wide street was ghostly spacious at that time. A strange feeling hit me to see the busiest road in Loyola to be inanely empty; where was the passerby, the tricycle that mostly dominated that straight road, the joggers were nowhere to be found, it was too early for the Avada to be bare.

As I was getting nearer and nearer to my favorite Katipunan Avenue, I noticed the glimmering lights of the famous Drews bar situated in the second floor of the Alvero Building beside Shakey’s Restaurant. I’ve never been to Drews, I didn’t even know if it’s a bar or just a hangout haven for the prodigal sons and daughters of the Ateneo University. But as I scrutinized it every day when I still passed that side of the alley on my way home from work; I got to witness the ludicrous attitude of the youth as they squandered in the sidewalk, passed out drunk and puking in the corner of the open manhole.

It wasn’t an admirable sight to see yet I was fascinated by that small reckless act. It reminded me of my days in the University, my fatuous and pathetic defiant wanderings in my youth. No matter how crude it was, it was the FUN of my lifetime. But those days are over now, I am out! I am done with the exterior falsehood of fun.

I seek the inner peace.

As I passed through the front building of Drews I heard the outcry of laughter’s echoing in the air; the sound of the restless young people of this generation, a blending of joy and euphoric intoxication, invitingly loud to the passersby. It wasn’t really jealously that caught me in that moment yet the commonality of the game that I used to play during my time.

I was amused with the sweet memory of my formative years.

Long live the restless, the careless youth, the daring and the carefree!

It’s an unfortunate fact that the absence of a fine restaurant in this side of Katipunan stalled me from feasting a fine non-greasy meal. The utmost expected food establishment I could find in front of a university is the endearing domination of fast food restaurant in different types. Since the small catering in front of Loyola condominium that has been my long time refuge for vegetable cuisine and home cooked meal was already closed. I didn’t have the liberty to dispute but rather choose to submit myself on feeding my body with a non healthy yet emotional booster happy meal.

There I was, feasting voraciously in a McDonald value meal of cheese burger, large fries and large diet coke which completed my Sunday night cravings and of course a sundae hot fudges to furnish my palate.

I was solved!

The fast food restaurant was crowded that night, it was Sunday indeed yet students from the Ateneo University and nearby school were jam packed in every corner of the establishment, occupying almost all of the tables in the restaurant. I could see laptops, Biology and Chemistry books in other side while other students from a long table at my back were discussing about political agendas, I bet they were law students or just plain political science or social relevance enthusiasts.

In my own table I was alone, facing the counter that was paralleled to the entrance glass door. I could see people falling in line to order they’re guilty pleasures while some were dining outside, those who enjoy the cancer sticks were there puffing their lungs out.

Students were still coming from all over Katipunan and the line was getting longer yet they’d still kept on coming. The counter and the crews were obviously doing their best to keep the line moving, even the managers; two of them were assisting and taking up orders from the never ending queue of diners anxiously waiting for their turn.

I observed all of these, in the midst of this chaos; I could see lovers who were careless of expressing their endearing affection in the public eye. These set of lovers, they were young yet they were in love I could see. I never really know the meaning of love when I was at their age. I was busy discussing the subject of love, its irony and metaphor. I remember sitting in one of the benches inside the campus with my friends expressing my opinion or quoting other people I talked who already experience the magic of this matter.

But truly I was out there searching for it, anxious to be swept away or to be head over heels.

But that’s just me. I couldn’t compare myself to these young kids who seemed so emotionally attached to one another. Like their eyes were tangled in a web. 

Young love is definitely the sweetest and the most romantic, I thought to myself.

So I shifted my attention and scanned the people that surrounded me and see if someone in the crowd that was worthy of my dissecting.

I failed with my perusal since all of the people that were present were what we normally called the teens of today that made me look like the oldest in that section.

I suddenly felt the urged to move out and so I did.

I found my way out of the teen infested McDonald restaurant and decided to have an evening walk along Katipunan Avenue for a while. According to my watch, the time was at its best to allow me for my evening stroll to digest my early insatiable escapades.

I walked my way to the long straight avenue until I reached the main gate of the village where I live. It was a one way meandering that helped me to ease myself, my kind of relaxation.

Walking indeed is the best way to relieve stress from my day to day life and it really worked pretty well for me.

Finally, I arrived at my humble abode safely, ended my Sunday night with a chapter of Charles Dickens David Copperfield book in my bed with my lampshade on. I swept back into the beautiful wonders of the 1800 England. I love this era in history as much as I love the past centuries as well.

I always believe that the past eras from the middle ages down to the 19th century or even the most ancient times was the best time of the history of the world, when the great painters, poets, philosophers, story tellers, conquerors came to exist.  It was the time of the history when the world was held the wonders that we have today.

I called those times as the forged of the greats, where heroes of today were born if not made.

I was far from ending the book but I finished the chapter before I submitted myself to sleep. I dreamed of those realizations of centuries, of times, of great statues and personalities that shaped the literatures. It was the sweetest way to end my Sunday night.

© 2010 RonnanTristan

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Added on December 6, 2010
Last Updated on December 6, 2010



Quezon City, National Capital Region, Philippines

I'm 29 year old male from the Philippines, a dreamer of the ancient world. I am a fantasist who believes that the façade of the past era was the real aesthetic beauty of humanity. In my heart o.. more..

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