One Saturday Night That Lasted Through Sunday Morning

Last Saturday I was supposed to go to Baguio to visit my folks, reconnect with friends and old co-workers, but I thought it would be a hassle to go at the day of the Flower Festival Street and Float Parades. Baguio would have been packed with people during the parades, especially Session Road, so I thought I’d just postpone my trip however much I missed home.

So having postponed my trip at the last minute I was left with nothing to do on a Saturday night. I was already to staying at home when my friend sent me a text message asking me if I wanted to accompany him to a private party somewhere in Makati at 7PM. Unfortunately, I couldn’t possibly have made it at 7PM since I was already headed to church for the night service and that starts at 6:45PM. Besides, I didn’t even know the person throwing the party so I probably would have felt like a gatecrasher had I attended so I had to say no to the party.

After church, I got another message from my friend asking if I wanted to see Up Dharma Down at 10PM instead. I’m not really that big a fan of the band but I liked their music so I said, “sounds good!” I was to meet my friend in front of Fully Booked at Bonifacio High Street in The Fort at 10PM. The band was performing at Magnet Café, but I wasn’t sure where that was so I opted to have my friend meet me somewhere I was already familiar with.

Delay! Delay! Delay!

By 9:30PM I had already left the house and took a tricycle going to the highway. I was debating with myself whether to take the train or the bus when I realized the station for buses going to The Fort was right below the Ayala MRT Station. So I opted to take the train.

I arrived at the train station at 9:40PM, got my ticket and waited at the platform. Fifteen minutes later the train hasn’t arrived yet so I texted my friend that I’d be a couple minutes late. I was already getting frustrated with the train schedule if not for the “sights” around me (there were three booty-licious guys around and ogling at them dispersed my frustration).

A train finally arrived at a couple minutes past ten but it was already jam-packed with people that only a few were able to board. I opted to wait for the next train, thinking it’d probably take just about five minutes.

Alas! That wasn’t the case. After the train left, it was announced that the next train would arrive in 20 minutes. I had to wait twenty long minutes more for the next train and, unfortunately, two of my eye-candies were able to make their way in the fully packed train so it was bye-bye-cutie-pies! Oh, well! At least there was still one cute guy left to ogle.

So, twenty minutes after, the train finally arrived; still almost full but at least I was finally able to board. I still couldn’t believe that many people were using the MRT at that late hour. It was so full I could barely move my arms without smacking anybody.

I finally got off at the Ayala Station at around 10:40PM. Worried that I was already very late, I texted my friend that I was about to board the bus going to Market Market. When I got to the bus station, there weren’t any buses yet and I had to wait another 10 minutes and my phone was already running low on battery power! Could you believe my luck?

Nonetheless, I arrived at Bonifacio High Street, albeit an hour late from our set rendezvous. My friend met me at Fully Booked as we have agreed upon and he led me to Magnet Café where the opening act was already playing. Well, at least I didn’t miss the band we went there for.

Up Dharma Down

My friend, Jade, had told me earlier that he was with a couple, Marcy and her boyfriend Mac, to which he introduced me once we got in Magnet. Mac didn’t know the band, but Marcy was a fan; not a wonder since Up Dharma Down sounds really good!

Since only the opening act was playing at that time, we paid little attention to the playing band and chatted a bit; nothing big, just small talk since this was the first time I met them.

A couple of songs later, we noticed that the second band was already setting up. The vocalist was wearing a short boy-cut hair, a sweater, sneaks and plain jeans so we were trying to figure out whether she was straight or not. Why we even bother figuring that out, I wouldn’t know.

Later, while the band was playing their first song, Jade blurted “that’s them!”

We were so preoccupied with trying to figure out whether the girl was straight or not that we didn’t even realize it was already Up Dharma Down playing. A couple more notes into the song and we all conceded that that was certainly the sound of Up Dharma Down.

They really sounded good! There weren’t a lot of theatrics, i.e. not much stage movement, but they really sounded good and watching them perform live is so much better than listening to a record or watching a music video. They played a couple of songs; one of them was “Oo” which was peculiarly dedicated by someone at the front seats to his companion.

I had so wanted to take a video or even just a picture of them playing live, but as luck would have it, my phone’s battery power was already hanging on for its dear life, so there wasn’t much I could do about that. I just conceded to enjoying seeing them perform live.

Going Chinese

After the performance, we stayed for a couple more minutes to finish our beer. I, personally, wasn’t about to go without finishing the bottle that cost me a hundred and ten bucks (their beer was ridiculously pricey). Jade, Mac and Marcy were discussing where to go next since Magnet was about to close (it was already almost 2AM and, besides, the beer was too pricey to actually enjoy had we opted to stay).

After we finished our beer, our next stop would be Tianamen at Makati Avenue. It was a Chinese-themed resto/bar with low tables and pillows for seats. Of course, they offered Chinese food, too!

At Tianamen, we were joined by another friend, San, with whom Marcy was trying to set me up. He’s straight, though, and not really my type, but I just played along. It wasn’t long before they realized that I’m not really interested and neither was San.

Marcy got a Singapore Sling, Jade ordered for an Amaretto Sour which was served on a very gay martini glass, while I got Long Island. The two guys just settled for beer, but the three cocktails all tasted the same – like calamansi juice, very expensive calamansi juice.

Between Tigris and Euphrates

We left Tianamen at around 4 in the morning, still not quite drunk, but very, very sleepy. Marcy and Mac went ahead and got a cab while Jade, San, and I walked around a bit.

Jade showed us a bar named Ziggurat just behind Tianamen and located right in the corner of Tigris St. and Euphrates St. Quite an ingenious way of naming a bar in that location, if I may say so. I didn’t even know there were streets named Tigris and Euphrates and Makati until then.

Anyway, that concluded our day. We were all really very sleepy and decided to head home.

It was fun, though; seeing one of my favorite bands play live, meeting new friends, and discovering new places. So I thought this event deserved a post in my blog. At least I’ll have a recorded memory of that night.

Nobody Cares!

Here's something for the upcoming election.

Vote for Nobody!
Nobody keeps election promises!
Nobody will listen to your concern!
Nobody will help the poor and unemployed!
NOBODY CARES!
If Nobody is elected, things will be better for everyone.
NOBODY TELLS THE TRUTH!

I Have Problems with Proximity

I have long realized that I have a tendency to look haughty and reserved especially when I’m not talking to anyone or when nobody bothers to talk to me. I could appear aloof, snobbish, or even dowager-like at times. So I try to be my friendliest self when interacting with people for the first time (which is not saying much). Although I know I’m very bad at cracking jokes I try anyway. Even if I realize that my sense of humor is a little strange to most I still try to show it just so the people around me can see that I’m not stuck up.

Sad as it may seem, I don’t believe that I’m a naturally friendly person. I’m not the one to approach another and engage them in a conversation. Most of the time, I just sit around and wait for someone to strike up a conversation with me. If no one does so, I just sit in silence.

Being thus, I felt apprehensive with a sprinkling of nervousness when I first walked in the class room last Tuesday, especially when I realized that the people in there had already had the chance to interact with each other the day before (I didn’t make it to the Monday orientation due to reasons I could better explain in another post – it’s a long story!) while I absolutely knew no one.

I get this feeling every time I am about to mingle with a new group of people. I get scared.

Remembering the first day of preschool, I refused to enter the classroom if my aunt (who was my designated nanny during those times) did not come in with me. During the first day of first grade, having seen that my preschool classmates were not my first grade classmates, I almost ran away from the classroom. When I had to transfer to Baguio and study there during high school, it was the same situation on my first day. The same thing happened during my first day in college, my first day of training in my first, second and third jobs. I was always scared to walk into that room filled with faces I saw for the first time.

I felt scared, terrified.

Yes, I usually get over it after a few hours of mingling. I usually forget that I felt that way after having immersed myself in their company for a few days. I pay no mind to how my first day was after having spent a couple of weeks with them but the fact remains that I always fear walking into that room for the first time.

I fear many things. I fear that I won’t be welcome. I fear that I won’t fit in. I fear that they won’t like me. It’s crazy, I know, and I realize that maybe I’m just being paranoid, but that’s the feeling I get and I can’t help it.

Nevertheless, there really is nowhere to go but walk in that room and pray that things will work out fine. It usually does after some time, but it’s always just darn scary the first time.

So in I went, took a cursory glance around the classroom, and thought might as well go on all the way in. After a couple of minutes of staying silent in my seat, I finally braved to ask the girl sitting right beside me some inquiries I had regarding what I needed to do as they may have been given instructions I didn’t know about due to my absence the day before that. Eventually I found myself immersed in a friendly conversation with the rest of the group and thought this isn’t bad at all.

Maybe I just got really lucky that I was assigned to a group of friendly people. Whatever the reason, we all got along just fine and I’m actually enjoying the class. We have fun, get rowdy and crazy and really noisy sometimes, but we’re all just having fun. We’ll all stay together in class for a couple more weeks and I’m sure we’ll continue on having fun together.

Adjusting for Comfort?

Since I like to explore options for public transportation, I decided to take a bus from Diliman going to Ayala this morning. Although I was quite sure that the bus ride would surely make me arrive late for my appointment – considering how heavy the traffic could be along East Avenue and EDSA at any given time of day – I didn’t care. I just wanted to know whether a bus ride was a more convenient choice if I were to go to Makati.

Apparently, it wasn’t. Should I have taken the MRT from Quezon Avenue to Ayala, I would’ve saved both time and money. The only real convenience in taking the bus is that you don’t have to get squashed during the travel as is the case if you ride the MRT.

And, Oh! If I haven’t taken that bus this morning, I wouldn’t have thought of anything else to write about. And no, I’m not writing about the pros and cons of getting a bus ride against taking the MRT. I’m writing about the dude I sat beside in that bus.

I’m not sure if it’s just me, but lately I feel like there’s a lot of sexual tension all around and everywhere I look there seems to be something sensual or provocative or erotic. Take, for example, my last post about a guy’s fingers (insert wink here).

This time it’s not any particular body part. It’s the way the dude I sat beside kept adjusting his crotch.

He had a copy of People Magazine and a Starbucks Planner resting on his lap when I took the seat beside his. I remember choosing to sit beside him because he was the one who looked the least threatening – about early to mid twenties, clean cut hair, green shirt and khaki plaid shorts.

I usually mind my own business while riding in a public transport, but with the traffic and all, I found myself looking at the magazine on his lap. Again, I’m not sure if it’s just me, but he shifted the magazine and planner a few inches towards his knees, lifted his shirt enough to reveal his pants’ waistline then, to my surprise (honestly, I was surprised), his left hand crept through the waistline, into his pants, and, I can only guess, adjusted his wiener. After about five minutes he was apparently not content with the way his crotch was positioned. He lifted his buttocks a little, then reached inside his pants, and did some adjustments... for comfort? I guess so.

The traffic was already making me uncomfortable that time. I could understand it could have made him feel so, too, but I was half fearing and half expecting to see something peeking out from the waistband of his shirts when, for the third time, he adjusted his crotch again. I can’t say if it’s good or bad, but no “thingy” peeked out, and I’d guess he finally found the most comfortable position because he fell asleep after that.

So what’s the moral of the story?

Next time, take the train… Not! Learn to take a Hint!

Fingers

He rode the jeepney and took the seat right across mine. Tall and fair; averagely built; he was exactly my type! I couldn’t help it. I stared.

Good thing luck was feeling merciful that time. I was wearing my ultra-dark sun glasses so at least he didn’t notice I was (for lack of a more descriptive term) gawking.

He wasn’t strikingly handsome, really… but I couldn’t help but trace the curve of his bushy brows, watch the sparkle in his dark brown eyes, the sunlight hitting the tip of his pert nose, and imagine how soft those pink lips would feel… no… not really handsome. Some may even consider him to be just average, but I definitely think he’s cute (otherwise I wouldn’t even bother trying to write about him).

Then he fished his phone out of his pocket. That was when I noticed his fingers, his long and tapered and soft-looking fingers.

I rarely look at a man’s fingers and I never considered fingers to be a man’s sexiest body part. I don’t know what or why but I was fixated with his. There was something oozing with sexiness in those fingers, really painfully, achingly sexy.

In the next few minutes all I could see were his fingers and I felt like nothing else existed…

Then my wiener twitched…

Snap! Back to reality, I almost missed my stop!

Then with one final glance at those sexy digits, I got off the jeepney, feeling a little weird. That was one heck of a ten-minute ride going home.

For Starters...

I said I do things at a whim. This blog is just one good example.

I'm not even really sure what this blog's gonna be about but I'm guessing (based on the title I made up and thought about for 10 seconds) that it's all about what in the world I go through in my daily life in the metro. I've got to do a little back story first, though...

I'm thinking the next couple of entries will be about how I got here; the stuff I did; the consequences; the little adventures. I'll try to post as much of my story as I can as frequently as possible, but, knowing myself, that would usually mean once a week at most.

I'll try really hard, though...

Prologue

Call me mountain boy.

Yeah, I’m from the mountains… uh… was… from a small city called Baguio, atop the mountains of Benguet, and no, I’m not a native of the mountains. I was born on flat land, but have lived most of my life in the mountains mainly because my parents decided they wanted to live the rest of their lives in that gorgeous and pine-covered city with the cool afternoon breeze and chilly night winds.

That’s where I came from.

I still don’t really know why, but it seems that, on a whim, I decided to move to the Metro almost a month ago. I know I told people I was moving because I wanted to go back to school and that the courses I wanted to take was only offered in UP Diliman and thus I needed to move to Quezon City so I can conveniently go to school. Right now, though, I’m not sure I believe that that’s really the reason.

Maybe I got tired of my life in the mountains. Maybe I wanted something different from what I’ve been accustomed to. Maybe I wanted to experience living life away from my parents and be able to do what I want whenever I want to like party all night every night and not get scolded for it. Maybe, like Belle from Beauty and the Beast who wanted “adventure in the great, wide somewhere”, I wanted to have a little adventure of my own.

Whatever the reason that brought me here, here I am… mountain boy in the metro… having an adventure.