The Old Lady At The ATM Counter

I was at the ATM row in Landmark and there was this small, frail old lady who was seated at the edge of the riser for the machines. She was dressed in a pair of black leather shoes, black pants, and a dark blue satin long-sleeve blouse with white polka dots – all neat and neatly worn.

Her hair was swept in an updo and she was wearing makeup and jewelry – a pair of diamond earrings (they looked fake, though) and a set of three diamond-encrusted gold rings (again probably fake) on each middle finger.

I thought she was just resting after a tiring trip to the mall (she was dozing off). Perhaps she was waiting for her daughter and apo to finish shopping. And then I noticed the blue paper bag lying on the ground near her feet. In it was one open pack of cigarettes, two sealed packs, and lots of gum and mint candy.

Nothing in her looks said she was a vendor. And at that time it struck me as rather unwise of her to choose such a low-traffic area for her trade.

Questions arose in my head. She was a vendor all right. But who was she? Why was she vending when she looked like she didn’t need to? Why did she look the way she did if she needed to vend?

The only character sketch I thought was a satisfactory explanation was this: she used to be rich. Or at least had enough money to live comfortably and afford niceties such as good clothes and accessories. But she’s fallen on hard times. She can’t quite leave her old life behind, though, and that’s why she continues to hold on to it as much as she can. If not economically at least cosmetically.

Later that night a friend said that she was probably simply trying to avoid being spotted by the Makati police. Vending, he told me, is unlawful in the city. Looking like a shopper and being inconspicuous about her job was her way of not calling attention to herself.

Okay, that made sense. But a question remained. Why did she station herself there, in between two traffic intersections that were being manned by several law enforcers?