Would have been Perfect

Isabela is back in Manila and we are desperately looking for a nice place that's conducive for studying. After studying at the university library, we came across a small coffee shop below a hotel along a popular Malate street. We used to bypass that cafe when going to a mainstream coffee shop nearby. The place reminds me of a french cafe, with its rustic wooden walls. It really looks cozy with its low ceiling and dim lights enough for reading. 

It was a drizzly night, setting the tropical Manila weather into a more comfortable one. I checked my phone. It's 24 degrees outside. The place, however, has no regard of the weather and had its air conditioning units in full blast.

"Ahhh! Don't you feel like we're in Paris (with a silent S)? The ambiance... the musique...the weather!" I told Isabela in a French accent. 

"I've never been to Europe. But yeah, this place is cool. I mean, literally cool," Isabela replied.

Her girlfriend, Fatima, also came over 30 minutes later. We sat on a four-seater table. Of course, they sat on the same side while I sat beside my bag. We were studying productively until we started feeling the cold air getting into us. Yeah, the cold is now killing the ambience... the musique... and those French blahs!

Since I lost a lot of pounds after internship (I am now near my pre-med school weight), I began wearing my small-sized wide-necked shirts to boast how much I lost to those I know (yes, no more belly!)... and fish for compliments. However, this time, showing too much skin is really not helpful. Isabela had a jacket, which of course, she shared with her girlfriend. And yeah, they could hug without the judging stares from others, because they are girls. 

With little clothing to cover me, less fat to insulate the heat, and a sweet couple sitting in front of me, I could feel the physical and emotional coldness creeping into me. I just hugged my bag sitting next to me to cover whatever it could cover. Then, I texted Isabela and said, "Would have been perfect if Harry were here.." 

Isabela read the SMS and pouted her lips while I looked at her with puppy dog eyes. Then, she whispered  something to Fatima.

"There! You're dying!" Isabela handed me the jacket. "You still got me. Don't worry." Then she smiled.

And that made me realize, it would have been perfect.... if the place were warm enough on a cold rainy day.

As for me... I think, being single is perfect... with a great best friend by my side. 

photo from here

The Brides Man

As medical internship ends, now comes the board review season where fresh graduates cram everything that they have learned for the past 5 years into their brains for a short period of 3 months.  Isabela (my lesbian best friend) and I are now staying in different sides of the metro since she opted to review in a far far away land called Farview QC. I chose to stay in the comforts of my dirty, old, but gay Manila. Once in a while, when we get tired of studying, or just miss each other, we would SMS each other about our random thoughts. 

This morning, after I get tired of studying bloody vaginas and wrinkled gooey babies that come out of them (read: Obstetrics), I sent her a message and had this conversation:

Basti: So now that same-sex marriage is legal in some countries, do you consider doing it with Fatima?

Isabela: Yes, we have talked about that. The problem is, who would come?

Basti: Me! Me! Me! *hands eagerly raised* Just make sure you'll do it in France. And yeah, pay for my airfare. Otherwise, your only willing guest won't be able to come. :(

Isabela: Ask your Mr. Right to pay for your plane ticket.

Basti: But I don't have one. :( So, who will stand as your maid of honor...or best man....whatever you call that...ehem....

Isabela: You of course! 

Basti: I have a dilemma though. So who shall I hire on your bridal shower, a male stripper, or a female stripper? Hihihihi.

Isabela: Hmmmm. I'd still go for a male stripper.

Basti: How 'bout the cake? Shall I order a dick-shaped one or a vagina-shaped one? Hihihihi

Isabela: Grrr! You! 

(Isabela still doesn't consider herself a total lesbian and hates the label. She prefers bisexual....Okay...)

Basti: Peace! I love you! Please don't make me wear a dress!

Isabela: Sure, you'll wear a tux. Sleeveless, bow tie, shorts...and bunny ears...

Basti: @#$%^!

photo from here

Idiot's Guide to Coming Out

Isabela texted me and asked for a favor. She needed help in finding a gift for her monito, or should I say... "monitey!" *jazz hands*.  She did not identify the person but she just described him as her gay blockmate in denial. I instantly knew that her monito is Jack. "It's Jack, right?" I asked her. "How did you know...Oh well, wala namang iba sa block namin," she replied.  

Well, Jack is utterly and overtly gay, but he just doesn't admit it...or he lacks insight of it? Everybody knows that he's gay but him. What kind of straight man craves for a facial when he's stressed, "I'm so toxic, I need some facial!" (Jack, 2012). (My naughty mind can't help but think of another kind of facial). BB cream? Ask details from him because he's a living proof of how it makes his skin blemish-free. And the walk...he could embarrass the sorority girls with his swinging hips. Yet, when he was in a comedy bar, he walked out when a gay comedian labeled him as "kalahi."

Then Isabela texted again.

Isabela: "So what should I give him? Our theme is something dangerous. I want something witty, worth 200 pesos" 

Basti: "Give him a box of condoms with holes punched out of it. It's dangerous, "

Isabela: "You're not the first person to suggest that, "

Basti: "How about a male prostitute?"

Isabela: "Are they that cheap today? Will they go for 200 pesos?"

Basti: "The cheaper, the more dangerous. They have a higher chance of harboring the virus....God! I can't believe you're really considering that. Baka mag walk-out nanaman yun."

Isabela: "So, ano nga?"

Basti: "How about a self-help book? Idiot's guide to coming out or Stepping out of the closet for dummies. Hehehe"

Isabela: "I guess, we need a copy of those too." 

Toink....A dose of your own medicine. 

photo from here