Manong George.

Before I became a resident of the boarding house where I am staying now, I was first a visitor. Every once in a while, I dropped by to chat with Jel (who, then, was already residing in the house) or, when life in the college dorm became too much to bear, I dropped by the boarding house to stay there overnight. It was during these visits and overnights that I met Manong George.

I immediately liked Manong George the first time Jel introduced me to him. It was a meeting with a purpose, if I recall correctly. I was looking forward to watching The Amazing Race that night, but since I felt so tired to go back to the dorm, I asked Jel if there was someplace that I could watch the most wonderful reality TV show of all time [sorry, plugging, hee]. Jel told me that he'd ask permission from Manong George, who, as I soon found out, was his next-room neighbor. Manong George easily replied with a "Yes," which was, perhaps, one of the reasons why I immediately liked him.

Upon seeing him in person, though, the reasons multiplied. Manong George was a big guy with an even bigger heart. He spoke like a flower; he walked like a bear. He always seemed at ease with himself. He always seemed content. In fact, there was never a time while I was there that he was upset at anything. I always encountered him with that strange smile of his on his lips.

Manong George was also a fastidiously clean and organized man. His room (which I envy and miss up to this day) showed it. The room, I must tell you guys, did not allow much improvement. But Manong George turned a seemingly hopeless room into a bachelor's pad that matched even the most expensive ones in the nearby Rockwell Tower. It even had a motif: pastel and metal. The combination might sound weird, but aesthetically, it worked. The floor was covered with blue linoleum; on top of that, an expensive-looking gray rug was placed. He had an orange lounge chair facing the TV. The TV itself had a metallic luster to it, as well as the rack on which the TV stood on. His bed, which was always made up, was blue. Pastel to metallic, then back to pastel again. Wonderfulness.

He seemed exactly the type of person I would have no problems being friends with. And indeed, there were no such problems. Even though I didn't live (yet) in the boarding house, he treated me as though I was. It was then unfortunate that when I finally moved in the house, Manong George already left for Cagayan de Oro, the place where San Miguel Corp. transferred him.

But this isn't going to be a sad entry. I thought of Manong George because he texted Jel last week and informed him that there was a possibility that he was going to be transferred back in Manila. Yay! That news filled me with simple joy. And the joy expanded even further when he told us that we're invited in his place overnight and that he would treat us for dinner! More yayness!

It's nice knowing people who are genuinely nice. All this while I had this fear that my "niceness" or, putting it in another light, my "lack of aggressiveness," is going to be the cause of my failure in the workplace. Even though I didn't voice it out or realized it explicitly, "Play fair; be nice" has been my motto for years. But Manong George, who is one of the nicest successful people I know, assuaged that fear. It's okay to be nice. It's okay not to be aggressive. What matters is that you do your best without trying to be nasty to other people in any way. It works. It really works.

Thanks, Manong George.