Going south

I live in a street that trails down Edsa; wherever I go I simply orient it either to my left of Edsa, which is southbound, or to my right.  My sense of geography – and my life on the whole – is sort of simplified by my relationship to this road: my grade school was on the north of Edsa while my high school was in south; college was north, and my first job south.  Gym south, friends north.  Airport and other countries south.  My last relationship with a guy began in the north and ended in the south.

Last Saturday, I got lost and disoriented.  I took the pink aircon bus going south.  The bus was headed to Makati, but I wasn’t going there.  In fact, I didn’t know where I was going.  I was probably gonna go to Cubao, or Robinsons, or maybe Megamall.  Or I could go to Mall of Asia, which was the end of the bus’ route.  I didn’t have any itinerary.  I just wanted to go somewhere.  I’ve been exiled in my shoe-box room for the last five or six Saturdays, and my life was the computer screen and the people in the house.  I was forcing myself to work.  I thought I could fix my life – and my future – if I locked myself in the house.  I got burned out, and the faces around me became unbearable.

I thought of buying toiletries and then maybe cruising the malls.  It felt kind of sad that this would be the highlight of my Saturday.  Saturdays for gays usually mean a night out with friends, being awake at four a.m. the next day, a bottle of beer in one hand, loud music, and flirting in Malate.  My Saturdays for the last eight years of my life meant Anton.  He and I broke up a few months ago.

I looked outside the window of the bus and observed strangers along the sidewalk.  It started to drizzle.  I tried to guess which ones would enter the bus.  Their faces seemed familiar, like long lost acquaintances.  I’ve seen them before: in films, in my dreams, in the pictures of the blogs I read.  They were the same people I saw in my college days when I would get stuck in Edsa traffic for hours, and the muted strangers outside behaving like crazy ants moving in different directions entertained me.

I wanted to get off the bus in front of Megamall overpass, but it went straight to the stoplight.  I ended up at Starmall.  I went inside and walked straight to the restroom at the top floor, which is the center of the cruising area.  There was somebody in the stall.  I waited and pretended to wash my hands.  When he got out, he was this mestizo who’s in his early 20s: lean, wearing sando and navy blue surfer shorts, and his crotch seemed to protrude from his shorts.  We were the only two inside the restroom.  He glanced at me briefly then proceeded to wash his hands, set on the dryer, and finally exit.  He left his silver umbrella in the stall.  I took a look at it, then I began to think of different ways to sneak it out of the mall without running into him.  Should I run or just walk very briskly?  Then I heard footsteps rushing towards the restroom.   When the mestizo guy opened the door, he caught me holding his umbrella and I immediately handed it to him and said, “Hey man, your umbrella.”  He replied curtly and in a tone that was sexy and sounded like my gay cousin.  “Thank you,” and he left.  I went out of the restroom.  I thought he’s probably straight.  Then I saw him standing by the railing like the guys who cruise there.  Was he waiting for somebody?  I moved about and got to a section in the mall that sold second-hand cellphones.  I showed them my phone and asked how much to get it fixed, but none of them knew how to do it.  I walked around again and saw lonely old gay men cruising.  What if my ex and his new boyfriend caught me here cruising like the other old gays?  The whole scene would be embarrassing.  There’s no any better way to look pathetic.  But I know he doesn’t go to Starmall.  I remembered the times I attempted to sneak behind his back to go malling alone.  My phone would never stop ringing.  He would call and text to check on me and I had to tell him what I was doing or where I was.  My phone hardly ever rings nowadays, and for the first time I kinda felt scared walking alone in an eerie mall.

I got back to where the mestizo guy was standing a while ago and he wasn’t there anymore.  I wandered some more and then crossed to Shangrila mall.  Today there was some amateur modeling at the podium of the ground floor with some bratty teenagers strutting like bitches.  I passed by Quickly and bought taro so I could get rid of my coins.  I only had a thousand box with me and I told myself I would buy whatever I felt like eating.

I checked out every single restroom inside Shangrila ‘til my feet  got so tired.  It felt weird; I thought I was back in college.  My friend Dexter and I used to swim at Ultra then spend the whole afternoon at Shangrila cruising.  We got to know a lot of guys there who were like us, and they became sort of friends too.  Sometimes we’d sing, exchange Broadway musical CDs, and eat together.  Then we’d go to Dexter’s house and watch DVDs.

I went outside and checked the restroom.  There was this guy who had a distorted face and he was applying eyeliner.  I went back to the basement restroom in the food court.  There was a guy who looked like a mixture of Romnick Sarmenta and my Muslim officemate.  He was wearing a brown sweater and carrying a badminton bag.  I followed him around.  He went to the arcade.  I went inside and he looked at me.  I made some gestures and he motioned me to come closer.  When I did, I asked him “Ano trip mo?”  He couldn’t hear what I was saying since it was too noisy.  He said, “Huh?  Huh?  Gusto mo kumanta?”

He spoke close to my face and I could smell his bad breath, like he just woke up from sleep last night and hadn’t spoken since.  I asked, “May alam kang lugar?”  He didn’t know any.  I said we could check out the restrooms and do it there.  We got out of the arcade and went to different restrooms, but they were always full of old ugly gays.  I asked if he sucked good and he said he’s okay.  I occasionally glanced at his face.  He’s cute but whenever he spoke he looked like he didn’t have front teeth, which was funny.  And his breath was really bad.

We went to the restroom outside.  There were four or five ugly old gays with big bellies.  I saw an acquaintance who’s also cruising.  I met him at a party at a friend’s house last year, and he designs accessories for celebrity stars.  He recognized me and said, “Uy! Kumusta ka na?  You are again….?”

He waited for me to say my name and extended his hand.  I shook his hand and said, “Joel.  Uy, ito nga pala friend ko,” and pointed to Romnick-look-alike.  I didn’t know both their names.  We were by the door and we were all sweating from the heat because it was so crowded inside.  We started talking out loud and I mentioned something about our common friend so that he’d remember where we met and I’d be able to recall his name.  We kind of like destroyed the cruising scene.  The designer asked me and Romnick-look-alike to go to Shangrila lobby to talk.  We walked out of the restroom.  Romnick-look-alike whispered to me, “Ano name mo para kunyari kilala kita”  I said, “Joel.  Ikaw ano nga ulet name mo?”  He said, “Jigs.  Eh yong kasama naten ano name niya?”  I replied, “Hindi ko nga alam eh.”  He asked, “Eh di ba friend mo siya?”  “Nakilala ko lang yan sa party.”

We entered Shangrila and the designer joked with the security guards to pretend like he’s a regular there.  He said, “Welcome to my house.”  We went to the second floor and sat by the sofa near the Murano glass exhibition.

I found out that his name was Franco.  Franco looked kinda old with cropped hair.  He was wearing black shirt with handsome jeans and sneakers.  He’s mestizo, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks because his eyes were sullen.  He lost a lot of weight from the last time I saw him.

He talked nonstop.  He told us the story of his life, how he just got into trouble and his business had collapsed, and how his boyfriend and he are not doing okay right now.  He spoke about all the celebrity stars he partied around with, like this writer from Inquirer and her sissy kid.  Then he said he’s changed and doesn’t drink anymore.  He’s turned his back from his past life, and he’s now surrendered himself to God and goes to Victory church every week.    I really didn’t give a bullshit, he was just cruising at a public restroom for crying out loud.  Jigs was actually sleeping.  Then I told him about our common friend who had syphilis and is probably HIV infected.

He started to flirt with Jigs.  Jigs suddenly started to put on this character about how he’s not really gay and how he’s never done it with gays before and he’s just like doing this for trip, and that he doesn’t suck and all the bullshit.  It was already five thirty and I wanted to escape from the stupid conversation so I told them I had to meet somebody at Megamall.  We all exchanged numbers and I left them there.

I went to Megamall, bought my toiletries, and ate everything I felt like tasting: popcorn, ice cream, shake, pizza, burger, KFC, etc.  Then I went to the 4^th floor art gallery section.  There was this gallery which featured big mixed media paintings in different shades of grey and blue.  One painting was like the size of my bedroom wall and it was covered with shoebox cars.  Another canvass was covered with knives.  And there’s another one that had a chair suspended on it.  Then I saw professor Jensen, my Nat Science Two teacher.  He’s a funny guy who’s a doppelganger of Mr. Bean but older and with a Visayan accent.  He was wearing a high-waist pair of shorts and looked like a retard, and he’s carrying a green SM plastic grocery bag.  I followed him.  He went to an Internet shop to check his mail.  I thought to myself:  am I gonna become like him when I grow old?

I checked the cinema at the third floor.  Then I checked all the restrooms from one end of the mall to the other, starting from the top floor to the ground.  Afterwards, I got really hungry.  I transferred to Podium and went to Yaku restaurant.  They had two new waiters who looked like film actors.  The manager came up to me and said “Hi Joel.  Where’s Anton?” I didn’t know how to reply, so I just said, “Oh he’s in London for work; will be back in a month”.  He said, “I just saw him a few weeks ago at Starbucks Megamall ”.

I know Anton doesn’t go to Megamall because he hates big crowds.  But maybe he’s changed now.  Or maybe his new boyfriend works nearby and he’s waiting for him.  He now goes to Malate on weekend; he used to hate that kind of lifestyle.

I looked at my phone directory and I went through the names in my contact list one by one.  I wanted to text or call a friend who wouldn’t say no to me if i invited him out for the night.  I thought of Dexter, but he’s now based in Australia.  Bhing is working in Boracay.  Jae, who was a fling and likes to party, is busy with his new boyfriend.  Alden’s more like me who doesn’t have a set of friends and just goes from one group to another, but he’s studying in Japan right now.  Ryan’s in a meeting, and he’d probably go out with his other friends that night.  Andy didn’t want to go out because it was raining.  My two girl best friends whom I hadn’t met in two years are now devout Christians, which is why I probably don’t’ want to see them anyway.  And they’d probably just want to have coffee.

I thought about meeting new people.  I thought about capoeira and and hanging out with straight guys and going to straight places.  But it’s really expensive to train.  And I can’t go back to tennis because that’ll mean seeing him again.  I thought about contacting my high school friends, but I only have Clavel’s number, and he’s in San Francisco.  Most of the college friends who I still have contacts are girls, and they’re all married.

In the middle of this, I remembered a scene.  I was in college and I used to go with my dad to pick up my mom in Makati and we’d eat at Mushroom Burger beside Mc Donald’s in Greenbelt One at one a.m.  Whenever we went there, I’d see a group of guys with their cars and girlfriends.  Then the scene got transformed and I saw Anton with his high school friends.

I got my orders.  I was so full already.  I ate everything.  When I got home, I opened the ref.  My aunt had bought an ube cake from Red Ribbon.

Before I went to bed, I checked my phone out of routine.  There was one text message from an unknown number:  2nyt TEST THE BIG BANG w SUPER EXPLOSION! Feat. D KING OF CUM “TILAMSIK” Cum early to Avail 180php ntrance fee at Fahrenheit café Pls pass.

I thought it was best punch line of the day.