they’re all over. they’re multiplying like gremlins. they’re wanted by the grammar police and other educational institutions. and i dated one of them.
a couple of years back, there was no name for them. nobody had coined the term ‘jejemon’ just yet. but i had a fleeting close encounter with the jeje kind.
he was a few years younger than i was. okay, he was eighteen to my twenty three. not that big of a gap, but when i think about it now, it’s like a whole generation cut a huge swath between us.
he was in college, i was a very well-compensated call center agent. we moved in different circles. he was, most of the time, hanging out with his ‘cR3w’ ; his term, not mine. but he was cute. and he had nice abs. seriously.
at that time, looks mattered to me. i preferred not to be seen in public with a guy who’s shorter, fatter and uglier than i am. not that i’m ugly. but you get my point.
looking back, i glossed over his lack of conversational skills- his ‘talents’ compensated for the things he lacked. he was really, really easy on the eyes. and with that alone, i was sold.
i would talk about the movies, books, music, work while he would just nod and smile as if he understood every word. then he would pull me close and kiss me. that was the best conversation i ever had. bar none.
he had a weird way of saying stuff and i would always cringe when he would send me an sms with the words: “kain kah na powh” or “i Wuv u PoWh!” i was always intrigued at what kind of keypad or keyboard he had. but at that time, i thought it was cute, endearing even.
i wonder, since he was still in school then, did he write the same way too? i wouldn’t know, school was a topic he would rather not talk about. it’s as if school was just a way for him to pass the time. he wasn’t serious about his education, all that mattered to him was our relationship and if i had breakfast/lunch/dinner or merienda yet. he was sweet, but it came to a point where i thought i was texting my mom, with a weird keypad. again, i blame it on our ‘generation gap’.
he would always substitute numbers for letters which took all of the romance from his ‘sweet nothings.’ but since he was cute, my eye/arm candy, i forgave him.
he was my dirty little secret. i never introduced him to my friends. i always thought that he was a very convenient boyfriend: i only took him out of his box when i was ready to play with him.
there was this something about him that would tell you that something’s off. something’s not quite right.
but maybe i was sitting way too high on my lofty high horse. i thought i was better. but i wasn’t.
needless to say, i broke up with him. i grew tired of his cutesy text messages which most of the time didn’t make sense. i grew tired of keeping him a secret, but i was too chicken to make our relationship known.
i could’ve done more. but i didn’t.
i think one of the reasons why these jejemons exist and continue to exist is because we made them. society has blown this fad way out of proportion and treated these kids like outcasts. and like all outcasts, this is their sub-culture. they pride themselves in being called ‘jejemons.’ they wear it like a badge of honor.
and i won’t go around ‘converting’ them either, that’s up to the institutions we have set in place to fix.
i dated a jejemon and he’s like every other guy i have dated. the only difference is, he doesn’t know qwerty. 🙂
Street Walker 