This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.
Interested in What I Create?
The Boy The Girl
The Rat The Rabbit
and the Last Magic Days
Republic of Carnage
Three Horror Stories
For the Way We Live Now
Stories and Poems
From a Forgotten Life
Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2018
Don't Tell Anyone:
With Shakira Andrea Sison
Pride Press / Anvil Publishing, 2017
Cupful of Anger,
Bottle Full of Smoke:
The Stories of
Jose V. Montebon Jr.
Silliman Writers Series, 2017
First Sight of Snow
and Other Stories
Encounters Chapbook Series
Et Al Books, 2014
Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop
Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Handulantaw: Celebrating 50 Years of Culture and the Arts in Silliman
Tao Foundation and Silliman University Cultural Affairs Committee, 2013
Inday Goes About Her Day
Locsin Books, 2012
Beautiful Accidents: Stories
University of the Philippines Press, 2011
Heartbreak & Magic: Stories of Fantasy and Horror
Old Movies and Other Stories
National Commission for Culture
and the Arts, 2006
FutureShock Prose: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures
Sands and Coral, 2003
Nominated for Best Anthology
2004 National Book Awards
Follow the Spy
Blogs I Read
IAN ROSALES CASOCOT
Monday, March 04, 2013
1:51 AM |
Ronald McDonald is an Ungracious Host
It’s past midnight in the McDonald’s along Perdices Street, and I cannot think. They have turned the music up much too loud for some reason I suspect borders on the diabolical. How else can it be? The sounds pounding my ears are designed for repulsion, perfectly tuned to keep my residency in this establishment to the barest minimum, its welcome extending only as far as lining up at the cashier. We want your money
, the blasting music says, but please go away soon
. It is indeed sound designed not to make you feel welcome—and I resent that. I have just ordered my tumbler of perfectly banal iced coffee, and have just settled on one table planning to read a few essays for Monday’s nonfiction class. But I cannot read. I cannot think.
I call over one of its busgirls. “Can you please turn down the volume of your music?” I ask.
“Yes, sir,” she says in that tired way that betrays she has heard this request before, and has no intention of ever doing.
True enough, I wait five more minutes—and nothing happens. The infernal racket McDonald’s calls music continues.
So I make it win the battle. I give up. I get up, and I go home.
You do not stay in a place that does not make you feel welcome. The only way anyone can repay such discourtesy is not to give it your
Labels: coffee, dumaguete, food, school
 This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
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