Fire & Rach

Thank goodness, it was a non-working Monday. I have been chatting with this faceless guy online for about a week or so now. As usual we had been trading barbs and venoms in our virtual chatroom, when other people started feeling hungry for some lunch. So guy says: who wants to meet up for lunch? I go: you’re one to invite, it would prolly take you til dinner before you got here.  Hes based in Makati, while I live in QC. I forced him to go to Trinoma which is near my house.

"I can make it in one hour."

"So that would be a late lunch. Hmm, this sounds like a date, so whoever is inviting is also paying. Deal?"

"Ahmm, I have got my pay yet. Where d’you wanna eat?"

"Aw shucks, I was thinking Conti’s. But since you’re on a budget, KFC will prolly do."

"Well, in that case, I can afford a bucket of chicken."

"Well, if that’s so, I’d like dessert as well."

"I was thinking of those eatting places on the roof top."

"Sounds romantic but it looks like its gonna rain."

"I will text you when I get there."

"Yeah, I will just shower then head to the mall."

Like I can shower in 10 minutes. Goodluck. The guy, I thought, was this goody-two shoes, clean cut kiddo in his early twenties and still needing to grow more. That I got from a pic supposedly of him posted by one of the guys online. No biggie. I wasnt gonna rush for that. Twenty minutes later I was still chatting with some friends.

"Are we good to go?"

"Oh sure, sure."

I thought I better hit the shower. The ride to the mall was a good 20 minutes and that excluded walking to the jeepney stop and to the mall. I looked in the mirror and saw that i needed to shave. But I really dont have time for that, I hadnt picked out clothes yet. Prolly this kid would be in walking short and tees, I got my khaki walking shorts and pistacio sports shirt. I know I’m old but I wouldnt let this kid rub it in. I’d be hip, or at least I’d give it a try.

Hmm, I think its been more than an hour and the boy wasnt still texting. If he turned out to be a passable looking troll or a hobbit, it would be better for me if I bring my book. He could eat while I read.

I was already near the mall when I suddenly had a doubt. Did I give him my correct cellphone number? I gave it way before this lunch thingy. I didnt think anything would come off it. I asked some friends who could be still be online, maybe they’d do something.

Yeah right.

Hell. I knew it, if he wasnt a troll, he’d be an indianero (no-showwer). I should have stayed at home. But since I was already there I might as well get something to eat.

Shit, the mall was filled with merry-makers. Families were there to enjoy the dayoff. And so are the kids and the yayas. Hell. I wasnt dead yet, why am I already burning in hell.

Consigned to my fate, I consoled myself with my favorite shezhuan chicken and strawberry swirl. I decided I’d get a chocolate mousse afterwards when my phone buzzed. I got a text message. It was from another cute kid from online. Hes cute but he is half my age. No deal. He said: "This guy says you are meeting this afternoon and he is asking for your number. Do I give it to him?"

I told him to please do. I am melting in a sea of babies.

Not five minutes later came the guy’s message, complaining that I gave him the wrong number. He asked if I was already at the mall. I said yes.  I apologized, drooling over the next table’s bucket of chicken.

<Dont apologize. Its you who almost got stood up. Good thing Zherwin was online. I’d be there in 45 minutes.>

Ang kapal ha, pero sweet. Hey, he made an effort to get my correct number and get in touch. Touched naman ako (ang haba ng hair). I must have looked stupid grinning ear to ear at that stupid table by myself. 

So what do I do for another hour? Its almost 3pm, I should have brought along my gym bag. I saw this empty sofa on the top floor by this juice bar called Fusion. I parked my butt and opened my book.

<Where are you?>

<On the 4th floor, I’m sitting on the sofa in front of Fusion, reading a book.>

Then there was this hand that reached out in front of me. Holy shit. It wasnt a troll or a hobbit. Unless hobbits grow up 5′10".  What have I done? No way can I land a date this cute, it must be because of all those troubles I had to endure at work and at home for the past 5 months.

There must be a mistake, where was the troll? No way this goodlooking guy could be without a hitch. There must be flaw here somewhere. My friend warned me he could be a serial killer.

Serial killers didnt dress in green stripped shirts with collar and maong, right? They never looked like him in the movies.

"I’m hungry, where d’you wanna eat?"

I didnt know. My mind was saying run. If he didnt kill me, the other badings in the mall probably would. Tall, cute, well-dressed, educated, working, I couldnt believe my luck, I couldnt even walk beside him. I trailed him after I told him I wanna eat at Italianni’s. He said he wanted burger and he saw a cow outside, maybe they had burgers there. Four cows wasnt open yet. So we ended up at Cafe Breton.

His choice actually. He had burger, I had crepe. (Its La Pinay, what else would I have?) We talked a lot actually for almost two hours. It was already dark when we left the resto. We talked about mundane stuff:

"Hayop ka, why didnt you tell me you’d dress up? I thought you’d be in pambahay clothes. I look like your alalay."

Gee, it was a good thing I didnt wear flipflops. I noticed the hairy curls on his forearm, I wanted to know if his chest were as densely populated. But I couldnt find the guts. I wasnt comfortable sitting there, when I wanted to do something else. I was suddenly conscious of my age, my appearance, my grammar, my morals. I blabbed most of the time. I offered to pay my share, but he picked up the tab.

After we left the cafe, he said we should stroll around. He was fascinated by the architecture of the mall. Frankly, it was the first time I appreciated the water features, even if I was looking at some other features. I pulled him to my favorite shops GAP and Dimensione. He noticed my penchant for clothes, I told him I was colorblind. He got interested in getting a shoe rack for his condo unit, I blabbed to him about IKEA. Useless.

We were on the way down the lower floor when he asked me why it was referred to as BINOMA? I suggested he pay a visit to the comfort rooms and the dark places. I showed him.

But we ended up at this veranda, the smoking area, overlooking Congressional and North Avenue. Even if we dont smoke anyway. We laughed at the helpers taking their pictures by the fountain below us. It was a long fall to that structure 3 floors down. My existence became suddenly precarious.

It was already 7pm when we decided to call it a night. He walked me to my exit. He went back to go back to the MRT. I got a text on my way home that he had a great time.

I texted another friend that he should have warned me that guy was a hunk and told my other friend that he wasnt a serial killer.

Was it just a dream? It was too good to be true. I arrived home at 7.30pm and I wanted to go to sleep right away. Maybe I could relive the moment in my dreams.

<geesh, i didnt think it would be this hard remembering all that happened that day.>

PS: After that meeting, I got more self-conscious and he turned cold to me. LOL. His profile says if we arent still on the same page, he wanted to be a friend, not a bf. Mine says it doesnt matter, I dont know you anyway.

PPS: Hes not catholic. That’s a dealbreaker as far as I am concerned. It was really too good to be true, it was. 

This happened on a Wednesday.

9am, office–This "little boy" sent me a message borrowing money for a passport interview at the DFA. He told me his sister’s remittance didnt go through and his dad just paid the house bills. We had been talking for weeks now about his plans of working in Dubai and how he could finally make money for himself and his family. I hav money to spare since its just a few pesos but my family also needed some financial assistance. I just couldnt say no outright to the boy.

I told him I was already at the office. Could I send it over Western Union? Of course not. If he wanted it, he should come and get it himself at my office. I gave him directions. He texted back, he couldnt leave his mom who was sick. He was panicking as he was running out of time before his 3pm appointment.

If he was really telling the truth, I thought I could help him get a job if I loaned him the money. But he had been the jerk the past few days, not calling back when he say he would. Just last monday, I was tossing and turning in my bed at 3am waiting for a call that would never come.

At before lunch time, I relented. I got his ATM account number and deposited the money so he could use it. I knew it was a con. I knew the money wasnt coming back. I knew I been had.

But the chances that he was telling the truth and that he was really in dire straits were too much to overcome. Levinas said the face of the poor asking for help was the hardest thing to say no to. He was right. I never should have studied hard for Philosophy.

Maybe if he got the job, he would completely disappear from my life. I sincerely hoped so. He sent this pathetic message thanking me for the help, saying the job would only take six months.

Havent he heard of contract extensions???

My phone became silent afterwards till 10pm, as I was supposed to meet him at his house. (I have never been there nor have I ever met him.) He said he was heading to Cavite to get money to pay me back. Yeah, right.

I knew it was a bad deal, so I went online to chat with friends, hoping that would take my mind off the little rascal. In the middle of a lively conversation, I remembered I havent prayed my Wednesday novena. I got my prayerbook and just did it.  Thank goodness Boy # 2 wasnt around. He was this english-speaking, IT yuppy whom I had lunch with before. He could have been a great catch were it not for the fact that he didnt like me back. We banter and parley with attacks and feints, play around each other’s words til a handsome hunk catches his attention. It was a nice dance of cloak and dagger, double entandre of a conversation. We had the same outlook and interest. But it was nothing compared to the hairy chest of the hunk online.  In the instant world online, that was was you call an instant conversation ender. In the dating world, that was what you call a brush off.

Argh. That night since Boy#2 wasnt around, I would put up my topless picture and play around with the hairy hunk. I had lots of fun, kidding around with harmless friends while sipping warm calamansi juice spiked with vodka. It was almost 3am and 3 glasses of poison later, when Boy#3 sent me a private message that he got excited by my pics.(Him: "Tinigasan ako sa pix mo, friend. Hahaha, goodnite na. Mwahh.") I told him off. ("Me: Okay ka ha, matakot ka nga sa pinagsasabi mo, friendship. Him: Tumbling ako, hahahaha. Padila nga." )

I knew he was harmless, living all the way abroad, so I just pushed his buttons to torture him. ("Me: Lasing na ako, cyber tayo!!!Him: Hahahaha Tara game ako!!!") Holy shit! Wasnt he dating my friend? I figured this guy was working abroad, away from his love ones, I could entertain him a little on webcam with a little show of my own.

It wasnt like I havent done that before.  More than the sex of it, it was the lure of power that did me in. I could get this guy off by showing a bit of skin, no need to go all the way. I gave him my YMessenger Id. He gave me his. (Him: "Hahahahhaa At binigay talaga wala akong cam friendship.") So it was gonna be a one-way strip tease, yeah right. Like he was gonna like it anyways.

Funny thing was it all got outahand, especially when he turned on the webcam he supposedly didnt have. I totally lost it when he returned the favor. LOL. Hey he was hunky in his own right. ("Me: I’m gonna blow your mind.Him: I thought I was blowing yours.")

What was really nice was the conversation afterwards. We turned on our mics and speakers and just sang to each other and talked about life and past relationships. (I learned he and my other friend had already broken off. Like I cared)

He quipped he still had some more left. I laughed him off and excused myself for a quick bathroom break. When I came back he took his turn. It was almost 4am, so I asked him if he wanted seconds. But the tides had turned. He said that that was a one time only deal. Cool. He said his thanks and g’night, I said okay.

It wasnt that I got pissed off for not having seconds, but it was the realization what a stupid thing I did. It was a real personal moment like we made that connection. However, it was pretty obvious that the other guy didnt care about how I felt. It was definitely another instant affair, you flip a switch to turn it on and flip another to turn it off. No questions asked.

That wasnt how I wanted it. The last guy who did that to me was busted after the last gust. Casual wasnt how I liked my sex to be.

At that point, I remembered why I am still single and why I think I am gonna stay that way for a long, long time. I didnt want casual, I want meantime. Its like a convenient excuse for a relationship when both are only after a noncommittal affair. I dont like his looks and his brain, he doesnt like mine either. We were just online friends.

I had to kick my ass to not get involved any further.

At around 7am, I turned my very tired body in my bed.

When I got up 10 hours later, I texted Boy #2 and told him about my stupidity with Boy #1. Hey he said we were friends. I didnt expect to get a reply in less than a minute. So I also hinted about having fun with another boy. I got no reply.

No need. I got the message loud and clear. DANG, I gotta get one of those plastic heart replacements. Mine is just plain stupid.

The MRT has become a microcosm of society. It has the poorest of the poor and the brattiest of the brats. What I recently found out is that it brings out the best and the worst in me. Its frightening.

My top pet peeve are the OBREROS, the construction workers who not only looks it but stinks like one too. I am not really after the brand labels, I just wish they clean up before being allowed inside. I know thats segregation, but who wants body sweat on your office clothes so early in the morning?

Actually, its not the stink I am freaked out about. Its the attitude. Most of them are hecklers and ill-mannered. Since they have the bulk, they force themselves inside an already over-crowded train. Try standing your ground against these juggernaughts and realize how puny your life is in this universe.

Such an experience is comparable to and the closest I will get to the tsunami catastrophe in banda aceh, indonesia. Believe me, its not a cherished experience.

They also have the baddest and the loudest mouths ever. Answer back at your own risk. If you value your life, I suggest you just look outside the window.

One time, I was squeezed in next to two of them and one said to the other: "you gotta problem? hey pal, everyone is just in a hurry to get home."  Had the other got pissed off, I would have been caught in the crossfire– of blows and bad breaths. The thing is both of them were clearly squeezing themselves and others like me just to get in. The nerve, right?

My second pet peeve are the lovers dating inside the cab. I am not sourgraping, what gets my goat is that girl grabs the pole immediately inside, boy embraces the girl and blocks access to the inner corridor. Can someone ask them to get a room and not spoon inside the train?

One time, I pushed myself past a couple spooning in the train as I described. The guy went: "Whats his problem?" When I reached the relative freedom of the center aisle blissfully standing where the aircon blows fresh air, I gave them the look-at-me-now stare. Geesh.

But before I beatify myself, let me admit that I do physical harm there as well. Last week, I saw this geeky looking girl with those black, thick rimmed glasses and boyish hair. She was decent in her dark office blazer and skirt.

When the train arrived, there was this mad rush to the door as it opened. I saw a hand carrying a paperbag squeeze itself in from my left side. Obviously the owner wanted to secure a handhold inside the door past me. I thought I had the right of way being in front of the door, so I pushed the hand aside as I got pushed inside by an equally crazy mob behind me. I knew the hand got pinned and crushed by the throng of onrushing bodies.

When I found a seat, I scanned the perimeter for the offensive paperbag. It was geeky girl and she was massaging her arm which was probably badly crushed in the madrush. I mouthed a silent "sorry".

There was also this one early morning, as I got off the train, I saw this guy running from one door to another in a dark suit: coat and powder blue tie with the patent leather shoes and the F4/Dao Ming Zhe hairstyle. I text my friend, wondering how it was possible for him not to be sweating like a pig under all those clothes. Obviously, I thought he was overacting and overdressed for wherever he was going.

Then there was this time, when I was glad I was able to squeeze my butt in the bench. I shut my eyes for awhile. When I opened them, lo and behold, there was this crotch in front of me. No impressive bulge there, but the guy obviously left the bathroom in a hurry he forgot to zip up. I raised my eyes to facelevel, ugh! How utterly disappointing.

See what I mean. This means of transportation is an evil, evil influence on me. I wonder how bitchy I will be after a year of commuting via the MRT.

This morning I woke up startled. The wallclock read 7 o’clock, I should have been up and about by 6am if I were to get to work in time. Then I realized it was a Saturday and I slept before 2 am.

I knew I would have another bad day.

There were tons of work to be done and never enough time. I had to get a move on. I had to figure out how to reprogram and I couldnt find the product key. My mom wanted me to change the car seatcovers. I needed to get the bedcover off, the laundry woman had already arrived. My 18-year old nephew needed his crappy haircut fixed by my hairstylist.

I didnt wanna go out of the house. I wanted to sleep til sunday.

My nephew was adamant, he had a debut-party to attend in the evening. So, off we went. We were already heading off to David’s Salon, when I saw a hairstylist I knew walking towards my old neighborhood parlor. I used to get my haircut there when I was still in gradschool. The haircutters were artful and cheap, but one thing I learned is that you get what you pay for, at least in haircuts. Thats why I changed barbers.

But I really wanted to get this errand over and done with with the littlest effort possible. I suggested my nephew to park near the parlor instead.

The parlor crew greeted me like a long, lost favorite customer. They thought that I already went abroad. I deflected all their questions, I didnt want to get into their bad graces before I get my nephew’s hair done.

After the small talk, I noticed the corner television set was on, showing an old lunchtime program. Despite the years, the show still followed the same format: the old reliable. I used to be glued to that show when I was in my early teens. Back then it was fun and fashionable to watch it, compared to the then-old show in the competitor station.

As I watched the show, I remembered why I liked it back then. It was where I got to know what was in style during those days. In style as in popular, that is what the people in the street liked. The dancers were hiphoping and grooving to a rap song belted by a copycat singer trying to sound like the original artist. Back when I was young, people thought that sounding like the record was the proper way to sing. The dance was all energy and show. The girls wore costumes showing a lot of flesh.

I know I sound so old fashioned, but maybe its because I have outgrown all of that in the same way I outgrew my video games.  I really got old, havent I.

The looks maybe preserved or at least I look younger than my age. But what was inside showed through. Confronted by the youngsters in the noontime show, I was a dinosaur from a by-gone era just like the parlor. 

The music had changed and so must I.