Surviving the counter-flow ban

Maybe Cebu City Mayor Tomas Osmeña hasn’t heard this apocryphal story about a Citom enforcer who stopped a motorcycle driver “counter-flowing,” one among many caught on the first days of the campaign against reckless driving.

“Didn’t you know about the mayor’s executive order? We’ll impound your motorcycle for 30 days,” said the traffic enforcer. “And why were you in such a rush? You ignored my whistle blows.”

“To get away. Three weeks ago my wife ran off with a traffic enforcer. I thought you were the one, stopping me to give her back.”

The man’s motorcycle must not be among the vehicles now lying on Citom lot.

Old man’s woe Businessman Raul Laurente says he heard this story from a friend in the city’s senior citizens office, though he thinks no one from the office will attest to its truth.

This old man, who far exceeds Raul in age, had just received his cash aid from City Hall but was sitting and sobbing on a bench at the city’s plaza. A passer-by asked why. “I’m married to a lovely 19-year-old.” “What’s wrong with that?” “I forgot to bring my cell-phone, which mall we’d meet, and where I live.”

Union brothel A group of labor union leaders attending a labor seminar in Las Vegas, decided to survey a few whorehouses, wanting to find out if the women or men working there were unionized.

If you ask labor union guru Art Barrit, he’ll explain it as mere fact-finding.

After visiting two brothels, the traveling Cebuanos found one where the madam said, “What we get from a $100 fee is only $20. The worker gets $80. We follow union rules.”

“A union house. Great,” said one in the group who apparently couldn’t confine himself to an academic study. “I’d like to find out if that’s true.” Looking at the parade of women on laptop, he said he’d have Lulu, the only one young and pretty woman among those not taken on a busy Vegas night.

“I’m sure you would,” the madam said, “but Dora here has seniority. Union rule.””

Cong, Hon, Board, B.S. You’ve heard people address elected public officials by the abbreviated title of the office they occupy.

Congressman is “Cong,” councilor is “Con” or “Kon,” honorable is “Hon,” governor is “guv.”

But vice governor or vice mayor is “Vice” and kagawad is “Kag” or, behind the local legislator’s back, “Kagaw” (Cebuano-Bisaya for “germ” or “virus”).

Remember how a Manila broadsheet from 2010 to 2016 called, as a matter of style, then president Benigno S. Aquino III? “B.S. Aquino III.” Contempt for Noynoy seethed from the title “B.S.” The paper’s editors weren’t scrimping on space.

Stories about one violator of the counter-flow order who got away with it, a senior’s lament over his wife, and Cebuanos in a Las Vegas unionized brothel