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"lola!" speaking to an elderly brother-in-crime i buzzed.

"i need an excuse."

"eh?" was his startled reply.

"the trip. what will i say to the misis?"

"just tell her the truth. that you'll be out with some buddies at the beach."

"but she'll ask, wouldnt she? who i'll be with."

the misis will definitely probe. and she knows all my homies.

"new buddies," suggesting a spice of honesty.

"people she hasn't met yet."

i can vividly imagine her reaction.

"she'll end up asking to meet these buddies in the future."

"c'mon. you tell good stories."

"maybe to you, yes. im not good at making palusot. while hiding the cold sweat."

making grand excuses like these drives me agitated.

"and she's good at smelling my ass farts."

"you're not lying. you are going out."

his conviction was infectious.

"with buddies."

"new ones. to get to know them better."

"sabagay."

the imagination sinks in.

"and she will ask, are there girls joining?"

and then a short grin.

"to which, i will say will all honesty. none."

humor breaks the ice.

"sabihin mo."

"matino ito. hindi nambababae."

laughter.

not just your best medicine.

but now a snarly pretense.