An iPod and an Instagram follower
A few days ago, Z. followed me on Instagram and I returned the favor.
I'll be removing him as a follower soon because I like to keep my follower count below 50 — it's a private account, after all — and I'm not sure I'm ready to share my sporadic, if indulgent posts with someone who, five years ago (as Covid cases rose and as the lockdown here in Manila tightened), told me to "fuck off and leave them alone." All because I failed to get him wheat bread.
This was in April or May 2020, two months into what later became the world's worst lockdown, resulting in groceries disappearing from shelves, including bread, wheat or white.
As travel restrictions immediately took effect, authorities apprehended or refused entry to delivery vehicles whose companies and staff had failed to catch up with the additional documents and exemptions required by national, provincial, and local agencies. At that time, the government itself from the top down was generally unprepared for the pandemic and was issuing guidelines piecemeal, among other oversights.
Some in charge of checkpoints even demanded grease money from drivers, a trader told me via private message on Twitter.
I was lucky even to get a loaf of white bread, I told Z., because, at that time, the grocery a few blocks away only allowed 30 customers inside the store to avoid infection and contamination. Only after one customer checked out was another let in and, as a result, buying groceries, in those days, took as long as two hours, with the most spent in line, waiting at the entrance.
A year or two before the pandemic, Z.'s erratic behavior had already put me off several times, the most memorable one being the time he got pissed off after I reset the used, first-generation iPod Touch he gave me and no longer had any use for.
He was upset because I didn't bother to save the video file stored in the device which he didn't previously tell me about. But when I told him that he had already given it to me, and that I already was the owner, he turned sullen and quiet.
The iPod's still working but only if plugged. I use it as a timer for my Pomodoro sessions. I'm looking for someone who could replace its battery.
When I told Y. about my new Instagram follower, she immediately asked me whether she wanted me to host a reconciliation dinner — just the three of us.
"No thanks," I said, adding a smiley. I no longer felt the need to elaborate and Y. understood that perfectly.