Redheaded

Isn't pink the most bewitching color in the world? I love it, but I can't wear it. Redheaded people can't wear pink, not even in imagination.

That little redheaded girl they have over at Cuthbert's is as smart as they make 'em.

In the afternoon of the 11th of February of 2022, I drank black iced tea at the cafe, which was full of standing students. There were Filipinas at two different tables. A stocky redheaded bearded man in grey ordered coffee. A big-bodied Hispanic entered to use the washroom. Later, I was the first customer at a brand-new bubble tea shop nearby, where I ordered taro oat milk iced tea and a blueberry cheese dorayaki.

My high-school brown-haired friend Kevin boastfully adored everything about his English heritage, from the Rolls Royce to the Royal Family. He sometimes wore a black top hat for fun. One day, my gang with Kevin discussed the intrusion of Latin into the English language. He gleefully cited the word "fix" as a true Anglo-Saxon word, which I negated, indicating that it really derived from the Latin "fīgere." He knew that as a Filipino, I had also Roman ancestors. Kevin was like redheaded Michael in Grade 5, my first elementary grade on Lulu Island. He too was keen on Anglophilia.

I walked at night, here on Lulu Island. As I entered Starbucks café, sitting at a table with two Doritos bags of chips, one purple and one red, were Peter the redheaded Anglo and Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, who offered to me. I took a few chips from both bags. Then, I was drinking reddish Passion Tango iced tea, then Oat Nog Latte. I was munching on crème brûlée almonds. I was exercising with my hand grip strengthener at my table. There were a regular couple with seemingly American spoken accents. The man was a handsome white-haired bear, always wearing a sports outfit. At Hans' request after he exited, Peter gave the purple Doritos bag to me and the red one to Chris the Japanese-English hybrid, who was a barista. The other barista was Jessica the petite Vietnamese. There were Filipino customers. Jessica asked me if I knew what was "lomi" (a Filipino noodle dish). I said that it was "rāmen." Homebound, walking, I accidentally tripped on a wooden board in a dark alleyway. My eyeglasses fell off. Luckily, I was not hurt. A Cantonese labourer helped me. Today is the 14th of December of 2024.

During the week, in the afternoons, elders huddle around a front table at Starbucks café. There are Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, Peter the redheaded Anglo, Květa the Czech lady, Gilles the Québecois, the Greek couple Stella and Dimitri, Joan the Norwegian-Anglo who thinks that she has Native blood, etc. People think that Hans reminds me of Santa Claus...