The Real Macoy

While at SM Megamall the other day, I espied a shiny secondhand Harley-Davidson interactive children’s book with a huge plastic motorbike right smack in the center that emits different sounds and lights when pressed. It was way cool. Motorcycles have recently been a source of great fascination for our toddler Niccolo; I was certain he would flip upon seeing the book. I excitedly grabbed it off the shelf of the bookstand and hurriedly brought it over to the counter to pay.

The smiling cashier took my credit card and started punching buttons. As I glanced at the cash register, I was stunned to see the name IRENE MARCOS typed up on the LCD screen.

Loony Mom: "Hay! Miss…that’s wrong!"

Cashier: "Alin, Ma’am?"

Loony Mom: "Tingnan mo ang card ko uli. My name is Irene TUAZON. Not Irene MARCOS!"

Cashier (the annoyance evident in her face): "No, Ma’am. Tama yan."

Loony Mom: "Huh?"

Cashier: "That’s me, Ma’am!"

Loony Mom (drowning in a sea of bewilderment): "Huh?"

Cashier (almost beaming with pride): "I AM IRENE MARCOS."

Loony Mom: "Ikaw si Irene Marcos???"

Cashier: "Yes, Ma’am! That’s me!"

The cashier then proceeded to show me her company ID. She really was named Irene Marcos. She then proceeded to explain that her parents purposefully named her after our ex-dictator’s daughter.

For once, the loony mom was rendered stupefied and speechless.

I did meet The Real Macoy after all.

BwaHaHaHaHaHa!