I’ve always wanted to visit Lucban, Quezon and see the chandeliers and colorful designs during the Pahiyas (jewels) Festival. There’s just one problem.
My old friends are familiar with Bavarian Donut*, and I’m not talking about the dessert from Dunkin’s. BD is a particularly annoying individual who managed to bother me for two years. “Bother” is an understatement; “stalked” or “terrorized” are closer to the truth. I don’t know how he kept it up as my patience snapped after three months. Maybe he thought extreme persistence was a virtue. (lol)
He lives there. And I could still remember one traumatic conversation where I was rudely interrupted from work by an uninvited visitor in the office. He started telling me about his nearly-finished house and his plans to make me live there with his parents.
He was almost a stranger. I was 20. I was mortified. And meek, provincial housewife does not really become me.
My life has been Bavarian Donut-free for more than a year now. I had to transfer departments and change my phone number but it was worth it.
* He wasn’t sweet. Nor was he light, creamy, or Bavarian. I chose the nickname because after several indescribable episodes, I started daydreaming about turning him into a donut with my magic wand and squashing him under my heel.