Those of you who frequent National Bookstore, brace yourselves.
I was at the Inspirational Section of one National Bookstore branch, holding copies of my second book, BIGGER Hearts. Nope, it wasn’t a grand book-signing event that brought me there. As far as I can remember, the only time that people lined-up for my signature was when they asked me to notarize their affidavits of loss.
So why was I at National Bookstore? You see, a good friend of mine from Tacloban City ordered 12 copies of BIGGER Hearts. Since I had no more copies with me, I had to go and buy from National Bookstore. (Pinch me. Up to now, I could not believe that my readership has finally gone beyond the Kamag-anak Incorporated!)
To my disappointment (read: delight), I found only 6 copies on the shelves. Immediately, I grabbed the 6, inhaled a great amount of oxygen to puff-up my chest, dashed to the Customer Service Counter and, without exhaling, proudly asked the lady in-charge: “Miss, pwedeng paki check sa computer kung mayroon pang copies ng ganitong book — BIGGER Hearts?”
The lady glanced at one copy, and then typed the author’s name – my name — on the computer’s search field. Meanwhile, I exhaled.
After about 30 seconds of checking on the inventory, the lady told me, “Sir, sorry. 6 copies na lang po ang mayroon kami.”
I quickly contrived an “oh-I’m-so-disappointed” face that could win a Famas, but the lady spoiled it.
“Sir, kung gusto niyo, pwede ko pong i-check yung ibang branch namin kung mayroon sila,” she volunteered straight away.
Rats. She did not even give me the opportunity to do a drama. These eager customer-service beavers sometimes overdo it.
“O sige, Miss, i-try mo,” I said in resignation.
The lady lost no time in dialing the phone. Apparently, she was able to get through the contact person on the other line without a hitch. Because in only a few seconds, I heard her say: “Hoy, Fe, paki tignan mo nga kung mayroon ka pang BIGGER Hearts diyan sa stock mo?”
With her ears still glued to the phone’s receiver while waiting for the reply, the lady turned
to me, pushed a piece of paper and a pen in front of me, and said: “Sir, paki-sulat po name ninyo para ipa-reserve ko yung book sa inyo kung mayroon.”
I inhaled again to inflate my chest. Then, with a mischievous grin on my face, I wrote: “Bong Roque.”
The lady let out a look of disbelief. “Sir, naman. Yung name po ninyo ang isulat ninyo.”
“Ako nga ‘yan,” I said, while pointing to my name that I wrote on the piece of paper.
Meanwhile, the person on the other end of the line was back.
The lady talked to her again. “O ano, Fe. Ah, okay, mayroon kayo? Sige ipag-reserve mo yung customer ng 6 copies. Sabi niya Bong Roque daw ang pangalan niya, eh pangalan nung author ‘yun eh.”
“Miss, Bong Roque talaga pangalan ko,” I repeated. At that point, I was ready to roll on the floor laughing. The lady, too.
“Sir, naman. Yung totoong name niyo po.”
“Bong Roque nga,” I said, this time in a convincing tone. But the lady wasn’t a bit convinced.
Then I had a light bulb moment. In my first book, BIG Hearts, I had a small picture on the back cover. I figured that if I am able to show it to the lady, she would believe that I am really Bong Roque. Hurriedly, I went back to the Inspirational Section and got hold of a copy of BIG Hearts.
I was all set to return to the Customer Service Counter with a vengeance, but I heard a faint “Excuse Me” from behind. It was a Korean woman who needed help.
“Where can I find these?” she asked while pointing to the piece of paper she was holding. I looked at the paper and written were the following words: “Inspirational. Motivation. Values.”
I got a book from the shelf, handed it to her, and said: “Get this book. Good book.” My English started to sound like Sandara Park’s. I continued my Korean sales pitch: “Inspiration, motivation, values – all here.” What I recommended was arguably the best inspirational paperback I know… my own book, the first book, BIG Hearts. (Pinch me again. I never imagined that one day my book would be read by a foreigner. With a little arm-twisting, of course.)
I headed back to the Customer Service Counter, all ready to win the lady over. Smiling at the lady, I laid a copy of BIG Hearts with a small 1 x 1 picture of my face on the countertop.
The lady probed the book, looked at me, and said: “Sir, kamukha niyo lang yan eh.”
Shucks. Talk about running out of evidence to present.
“Sir,” said the lady of little faith, “patingin nga ng ID ninyo.”
By that time, I was no longer in a mood to prove that I am really the author of BIG and BIGGER Hearts. So I just showed her my Laking National Bookstore card which carried my full name.
“Sir, naman. Kapangalan niyo lang ‘yan eh.”
That’s when I threw in the towel. Somebody once said: “To the unbeliever, no proof is sufficient; to the believer, no proof is necessary.” So I decided to quit convincing the lady about who I really am. I also stopped holding my breath. It felt better to exhale after inhaling.
As I made my way out of National Bookstore, I felt thankful to God for letting me meet the lady. Because just when I felt that I was already an icon of sorts, God made the lady a chisel for humility. When I thought highly of myself and my actions seemed to say, “Excuse me, Miss, but I think you don’t know me,” the lady put me in my proper place and hinted: “You are right. I don’t.”
Sniff. Inhale. Exhale. Boy, it feels so good to breathe normally again.
(Reprinted from Everyday Rainbows, the author’s 3rd book. For inquiries and orders, call or text 0909-827-7550)
I was at the Inspirational Section of one National Bookstore branch, holding copies of my second book, BIGGER Hearts. Nope, it wasn’t a grand book-signing event that brought me there. As far as I can remember, the only time that people lined-up for my signature was when they asked me to notarize their affidavits of loss.
So why was I at National Bookstore? You see, a good friend of mine from Tacloban City ordered 12 copies of BIGGER Hearts. Since I had no more copies with me, I had to go and buy from National Bookstore. (Pinch me. Up to now, I could not believe that my readership has finally gone beyond the Kamag-anak Incorporated!)
To my disappointment (read: delight), I found only 6 copies on the shelves. Immediately, I grabbed the 6, inhaled a great amount of oxygen to puff-up my chest, dashed to the Customer Service Counter and, without exhaling, proudly asked the lady in-charge: “Miss, pwedeng paki check sa computer kung mayroon pang copies ng ganitong book — BIGGER Hearts?”
The lady glanced at one copy, and then typed the author’s name – my name — on the computer’s search field. Meanwhile, I exhaled.
After about 30 seconds of checking on the inventory, the lady told me, “Sir, sorry. 6 copies na lang po ang mayroon kami.”
I quickly contrived an “oh-I’m-so-disappointed” face that could win a Famas, but the lady spoiled it.
“Sir, kung gusto niyo, pwede ko pong i-check yung ibang branch namin kung mayroon sila,” she volunteered straight away.
Rats. She did not even give me the opportunity to do a drama. These eager customer-service beavers sometimes overdo it.
“O sige, Miss, i-try mo,” I said in resignation.
The lady lost no time in dialing the phone. Apparently, she was able to get through the contact person on the other line without a hitch. Because in only a few seconds, I heard her say: “Hoy, Fe, paki tignan mo nga kung mayroon ka pang BIGGER Hearts diyan sa stock mo?”
With her ears still glued to the phone’s receiver while waiting for the reply, the lady turned
to me, pushed a piece of paper and a pen in front of me, and said: “Sir, paki-sulat po name ninyo para ipa-reserve ko yung book sa inyo kung mayroon.”
I inhaled again to inflate my chest. Then, with a mischievous grin on my face, I wrote: “Bong Roque.”
The lady let out a look of disbelief. “Sir, naman. Yung name po ninyo ang isulat ninyo.”
“Ako nga ‘yan,” I said, while pointing to my name that I wrote on the piece of paper.
Meanwhile, the person on the other end of the line was back.
The lady talked to her again. “O ano, Fe. Ah, okay, mayroon kayo? Sige ipag-reserve mo yung customer ng 6 copies. Sabi niya Bong Roque daw ang pangalan niya, eh pangalan nung author ‘yun eh.”
“Miss, Bong Roque talaga pangalan ko,” I repeated. At that point, I was ready to roll on the floor laughing. The lady, too.
“Sir, naman. Yung totoong name niyo po.”
“Bong Roque nga,” I said, this time in a convincing tone. But the lady wasn’t a bit convinced.
Then I had a light bulb moment. In my first book, BIG Hearts, I had a small picture on the back cover. I figured that if I am able to show it to the lady, she would believe that I am really Bong Roque. Hurriedly, I went back to the Inspirational Section and got hold of a copy of BIG Hearts.
I was all set to return to the Customer Service Counter with a vengeance, but I heard a faint “Excuse Me” from behind. It was a Korean woman who needed help.
“Where can I find these?” she asked while pointing to the piece of paper she was holding. I looked at the paper and written were the following words: “Inspirational. Motivation. Values.”
I got a book from the shelf, handed it to her, and said: “Get this book. Good book.” My English started to sound like Sandara Park’s. I continued my Korean sales pitch: “Inspiration, motivation, values – all here.” What I recommended was arguably the best inspirational paperback I know… my own book, the first book, BIG Hearts. (Pinch me again. I never imagined that one day my book would be read by a foreigner. With a little arm-twisting, of course.)
I headed back to the Customer Service Counter, all ready to win the lady over. Smiling at the lady, I laid a copy of BIG Hearts with a small 1 x 1 picture of my face on the countertop.
The lady probed the book, looked at me, and said: “Sir, kamukha niyo lang yan eh.”
Shucks. Talk about running out of evidence to present.
“Sir,” said the lady of little faith, “patingin nga ng ID ninyo.”
By that time, I was no longer in a mood to prove that I am really the author of BIG and BIGGER Hearts. So I just showed her my Laking National Bookstore card which carried my full name.
“Sir, naman. Kapangalan niyo lang ‘yan eh.”
That’s when I threw in the towel. Somebody once said: “To the unbeliever, no proof is sufficient; to the believer, no proof is necessary.” So I decided to quit convincing the lady about who I really am. I also stopped holding my breath. It felt better to exhale after inhaling.
As I made my way out of National Bookstore, I felt thankful to God for letting me meet the lady. Because just when I felt that I was already an icon of sorts, God made the lady a chisel for humility. When I thought highly of myself and my actions seemed to say, “Excuse me, Miss, but I think you don’t know me,” the lady put me in my proper place and hinted: “You are right. I don’t.”
Sniff. Inhale. Exhale. Boy, it feels so good to breathe normally again.
(Reprinted from Everyday Rainbows, the author’s 3rd book. For inquiries and orders, call or text 0909-827-7550)
