- Being spontaneous is sexy.
- Being spontaneous is Tao.
- Being spontaneous is dangerous, and
- Dangerous is sexy.
- Dangerous is fun.
- Barney is awesome.
- Barney is sexy.
All of which leads me to conclude that being spontaneous will make me more like Barney (sans the suit): funny, HOT, charming, confident, and HOT. So Barney doesn't really have anything to do with this but Neil Patrick Harris is my ultimate man-crush and I'm random like that.
So this story is about last weekend. Friday night my friends and I are at M- to celebrate a friend's birthday. This is a wine bar and though the wine isn't that good, the wait staff iscute. As the party is winding down at around 1am, Neil asks me, "So, you want to come with me to Tagaytay? Ella and Lee are still there." Tagaytay. Lee. More alcohol. Count me in.
2 hours, 5 calls, and several text messages later, we are in G- and both our phones are dead. No idea where Ella or Lee are. We settle for a plate of hot pancit bihon instead. Then we drive home. I spend the rest of the day sleeping. Saturday night, I am at R- with college dorm friends. It is someone else's birthday. Tonight, we are drinking beer, not wine. As the party is winding down at around 12am, John asks me, "So, you want to come with me to Malate? I'm meeting some friends later." Malate. Boys. More alcohol. Count me in.
I've never been to Malate before. I found it quite exotic. Maybe that was just the beer goggles. Nevertheless, as I stared drunkenly out of the windows of the cab, I felt - I felt awesome. John doesn't have any cash with him. He cooks up a plan where he just waltzes in while I distract whoever is at the entrance by paying. I don't argue. We walk up to the entrance and he stops to talk to someone. I walk past him. I am in. Free. The next thing I know someone is grabbing my hand and pulling me upstairs. John introduces me to his friends. I am busy staring at the go-go dancers. I can't help but feel sad for how dehumanizing their job is. They don't even bother to look at the crowd when dancing. One of them is staring straight ahead at the glass window as he slowly gyrates. Appreciating his own reflection, maybe. Trying to think he was somewhere else, maybe. Anyway, soon my ADHD kicks in and I forget all about... The next thing I know I am on the dance floor with a bottle of something, dancing like I've never danced before. Literally.
I don't remember how long this goes on for, or who I even dance with (I remember a cute foreigner in a wheelchair). And then it is 6am and suddenly O- is empty and the sun is way too bright. As I walk out someone knocks down a bottle of beer, the contents of which end up on my jeans. Thank you, I say. He doesn't look back.
Also, I leave with someone and we hook up and I feel like a slut, like a cheap cheap slut. He's not as good-looking as I thought he was. I don't particularly want to have sex but I've left with him, and I'm in Malate (i.e. I have no fucking clue where I am or how to get home) and he's from Paranaque and we're on a jeepney heading for Baclaran. Then we're having breakfast at Jollibee (hotdogs), and then we're checking in.
We fuck. We cuddle for a while. We fall asleep. We wake up and check out and say goodbye. I don't think I want to see him again. He seems like a nice guy. It's a shame we met like this.
Then again, Tao.