pwetster
pwetster (n). 1. a hipster gone bad. 2. a midsection wardrobe malfunction. 3. the grease boy wanderer in Halang, Calamba
Two weeks ago, en route to Tagaytay from Los Baños, our van stopped for gas in Halang, Calamba. This is the territory of one of those infamous wanderers whose greasy hair and body paled in comparison to his pair of pants - it was a wardrobe malfunction. The common deduction was that "grease boy" probably originally styled a birthday suit until someone gave him a pair of pants. From then on, he became something else entirely.
PWETSTER.
The kids in the van (a 5yr old, a 9, 10, 21, 28, 42, 43, 52 & 59 yr old) were following those pair of buns with amusement. How could someone in that outfit look from the front? This was the question posed by our 5yr old. So as the van started, the excitement built up. However, at just the exact time, Pwetster turned into a corner, leaving an imprint in our minds of nothing more than his pwet.
(Collective groan from the kids).
"That’s ok," the optimist said. "We have a cam. We can take his picture on his way home!"
(Collective YEHEY from the kids)
This was momentarily pushed aside as we enjoyed Tagaytay. After our usual morning mass, we shopped around and agreed to have some cheap thrill at Mushroom Booger Burger. Two hours later, we went to our favorite Reject* store in Sta Rosa, Laguna for yema and treats.
And then, it was time to go home.
It was somewhere in the Real, Calamba shortcut that we remembered our supposed mission. We scoured the highway for any signs of Pwetster ("You guys look right, we’re looking left"), and found our man in a waiting shed near the Badminton place, just a few meters from the gas station. Our boy was seated, face front, with one leg up! (GASP!)
However, there was no wardrobe malfunction to speak of. Our mission was a failure.
Still, the adults in the van (the kids’ parents, the designated patriarch, the designated matriarch, and the designated photographer) thought it was probably for the best. What would the imprint be on the kids’ minds when Pwetster became something else entirely? Would DICKSTER traumatize these kids, leave them with a complex, or would they grow up to be normal adults like the rest of us?
Nevertheless, DICKSTER wouldn’t exactly be thrilling for our 9-yr old DEXTER.
On a lighter note, DARNA is a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
*Reject Stores is the term our barkada in the van calls the chain of stores along the highway of Sta Rosa, a few meters from the Enchanted Kingdom. It is in these stores where rejected chocolate chip cookies, chocolate mallows, choco-covered cookies, pretzels, wafers, and other sweets are sold in factory/reject/consuelo-de-bobo prices. The only treats not considered precious rejects are those humongous pointy yemas in boxes that also sell cheap.
There’s undeniably no doubt about my own encounters similar to the antics and character of this so called ‘PWETSTER’ in the past. ‘GREASEBALLS’, i would tag them & each one had their own unique personality traits that captured the bystanders fancy.
But one really outshone the others and it still does a constant rewind in my memory.
“GREASE MAMA!!!”
This chick’s popular fashion site is situated in my hometown, Saluysoy, Meycauayan, Bulacan where she consistently awed & added a lot of spice to her everyday surroundings.
‘THE EYE TEASER!’
Let’s take a time travel during my college sophomore years when this dudette was a virtual unknown. Prior to her fame, every now & then i spotted her walking our streets back & forth; checking the contents of the trash cans she passed by. Uttering some unrecognizable dialect, she would walk for miles with her routine search.
But that would change the following weeks.
One sunny morning, i headed on towards the nearby store to fetch an item i don’t recall for my folks. On my way, i caught a glimpse of her. In her usually greasy getup, she was seated on the pavement where the trycicles usually park. I don’t understand why, but that time i had the sudden urge to stop & observe. And it sort of feaked me out, chills running down my spine as she established her first eye to eye contact with me. I didn’t move a muscle and chose to remain calm, anticipating her response. All of a sudden, she sprang from where she sat, stood up & lifted her scruffy dress above her head & flashed her ‘bare wonders’ before the dumbfounded world. If that wasn’t enough, she sat down again & leaned back with both legs wide open creating havoc & panic to the streets of saluysoy! Things would never be the same.
From that time on, she was a household figure all throughout saluysoy & some parts of Meycauayan. But years drifted by & i never heard of that chick since then. Some youngsters would question if it was a myth or fact.
I was there….
RUMER said this on July 14, 2005 at 8:40 pm