Bad at Names

I met a guy in Grindr once. A guy living just a few floors away from my unit. It was one of those nights when you know... The conversation was quick and short and we quickly arrived to an agreement. We exchanged digits and I saved his name as {insertcondoname here} Guy. A few minutes later, we met at his place, short introduction and there...

A few days later, {insertcondoname here} Guy texted again and we got it on again. And then another day... and another... until one day when I really had to call his name but my mind went blank. "Hey, uhhmm, I'm sorry, but I forgot your name," I embarrassingly asked him. "Lorenzo, you're Basti, right?" God! He remembers!

Not my first embarrassing experience when it comes to names. I have a pretty, sophisticated friend, named Sophia. We were in Palawan and just came from the beach, still wearing our sunglasses. We were rushing towards the hotel bathroom. When I came out, a medical representative who I talk to every week for months saw me and asked me if the girl I am with is Snooky Serna. Well, with the sunglasses, she does look like Snooky. When Sophia came out of the bathroom, I introduced them to one another just to prove that she's not Snooky. "Sophia, this is... uhmmm... she's from this drug company." I flushed. Well, she's not the only one. I don't remember half of the names of the medical representatives that I see every week. 

Then, there was this young intern from Unicef who goes to every office to share his advocacy for the poor children...aka...soliciting funds for Unicef. He is cute and has big arms, which is one of my weaknesses. He introduced himself as Henry and showed me his flip chart on the dire condition of poor Filipino children. It just lasted for 20 minutes. Well, I'm not really moved, but he's cute and well, okay, that 20 pesos a day will go a long way. So I gave my credit card details. Just to make sure that I understand what I am signing up to, Henry asked me some questions...

"What is the organization that you're helping?" Unicef

"How much are you willing to give to the organization?" 20 pesos a day

"How long is your commitment to help these children?" 2 years

"What is my name?" ________, "My God, Sorry, I forgot..." My face turned red again.

When Naivety Leads you to a Gay Spa

We had our old condo rented out as traffic became more annoying in the area. So, I recently moved to a new condominium nearer to my work. Everything around me is new.

On one Saturday afternoon, I arrived home after attending 2 hours of gym class. I just wanna lie on my bed and rest after the intense routines in my mixed martial arts and yoga class. I then realized that I left my keys inside the unit. I rang my sister and asked if she's at home; unfortunately, she is dining outside and will arrive at around 9pm. Since I just want to relax and rest, I thought of getting a massage, the perfect way to kill time and soothe my aching muscles.

I drove around the area and saw this spa which I'll just call E Therapy (the name is somewhat similar to that). E for me, is something that you would add to a name to emphasize that it is electronic, innovative or different (like e-mail, e-cigarette). Its facade has white french windows. It is also brightly lit from the inside. It looks so innocent; a place where you would want to have your nails done.

I opened the door  and was greeted by a middle-aged receptionist who handed me a menu of services that they offer. Nothing shady. Everything in the lobby and on the menu is what you would expect on a normal spa. Since it is my first time in the spa, I asked the lady if I could get the first-timer package. She called out for a name and instructed someone to get the kit for the service that I chose.  She explained to me that the package includes a shower, a 1 1/2 hour massage, and I forgot the other things that she said as her words became blah blahs when a hot guy came out with a basket of oils and towels. I can't remember, but I hope my jaw did not drop.

Scruffy guy, groomed facial hair, average height, big chest and arms. He looks like someone with a middle eastern mix. He asked me to sit down so that he can take off my shoes and  replace it with slippers. I was still clueless at this point.

He led me to a locker room where I can deposit my valuables and handed me a towel and a robe. I saw more borta buff dudes wearing the same color of muscle shirt (somewhat like a uniform) walking around and that's when it hit me... I am in a gay spa. *insert It's Raining Men music cue here*

Flashback: 
Two years ago, I heard my residency batchmates joking around with a term "spakol." I shyly asked what it is and they just answered me, "it's a spa with happy endings." That's when I also learned what's ES and those stuff. Sometimes, I could really be so naïve.

Back to present:
Since I have already paid and my muscles are longing for a massage badly, I chose to proceed with the experience. My mantra was: happy ending could be achieved with a satisfying massage alone without the "extra service." ...and ...the therapist is hot, so no more hesitations.

The therapist, who I'll call Sam, came back after I've changed and led me to the shower room. I really can't understand the room. It has a large tiled bed in the middle and a shower head on a corner. It reminded me of morgue tables which creeped me out. I guess it's what they use for body scrubs? Since the room is mostly occupied by the tiled bed, There's just a little space where you can stand and take a shower. I'm not sure if I have to take the shower lying down on the table, or if it is even okay to get the table wet. I've managed to squeeze myself in a corner. After a quick shower, I opened the door and the now half-naked Sam greeted me outside. He was just wearing boxer shorts. His proud pecs are outlined by the shadows of the dim light. *wipes drooling saliva* He smiled and led me upstairs to a massage cubicle. He is soft spoken and polite.

The still clueless and nervous me still don't know what to do. He asked me to lie prone on the table, which I did, fully clothed with my robe. Maybe he found it strange or funny. He politely asked if he could remove my robe, which he gently did. I was still wearing my boxerbriefs underneath (maybe at this point, he noticed that I am new to this thing. Pa-virg ang effect). The therapy started with the usual question, "what pressure?" I just opted for a moderate one. He started with the typical stretching and began to work with long strokes on my lower leg. In fairness, it was relaxing.

As he went further to my upper legs, he politely asked if he could remove my underwear. I was taken aback for a while but I thought, it's part of this kind of massage. It's becoming quite sensual as his fingertips touch those sensitive areas while he kneads through my upper thighs. I tried so hard to keep everything down there calm. He then proceeded with the back massage which was equally good. He used hot packs to make long strokes at my back which nearly put me to sleep. He then whispered, "just relax," and grabbed my legs, spread them apart, lifted them and placed them on his while he sat in between my legs, his crotch near my exposed but cheeks. It was indeed a compromising position. He did some strokes behind there and again, I tried to keep everything calm.

He then asked me to lie supine. Just before we started with the front-body massage, he excused himself and went to the bathroom. I lied there feeling awkward for a while with just a piece of cloth covering my nakedness.  I heard his foot steps coming back and I pretended that I am chill, relaxed and asleep with my eyes half-opened, just enough to appreciate the beauty of my therapist. Sam came back with a towel hanging around his neck. I really don't know what it's for. Did he take a quick shower?

The polite Sam thanked me for allowing him to go on a quick break and resumed with the therapy. He again started with the feet, lower legs, going up. After a while, he again whispered, "just relax" and lifted my legs, separated them again and placed them on his while kneeling in front of my nakedness. We are now in a position which resembles a "missionary" position. Again, I felt vulnerable. He did some mild ticklish strokes around the perineal area but this time, I really can't contain what's down there from going up. After that, he made strokes towards my chest while in the same position. As he repeated the strokes, his chest went nearer to my body until they eventually began touching and rubbing. And that’s not the only thing rubbing my body 😛.

That's when the question popped out. He made one last stroke from my abdomen towards my chest. His face ended up so near my neck that I can feel his warm breath. His lips are almost touching my ears. I can feel his beard and mustache tickling it. He is now completely on top of me with his arms wrapped around my body. He whispered the question, you know what...something about ES.

Very tempting... but I assured him that he doesn’t have to worry. I'll just tip him like he gave me an ES (thinking that he needs the money...and ...I did touch his pecs while telling him this. hihi.). But apparently, it was Sam who got aroused and politely asked if he could just jack off. I said okay and made him do his thing in a corner. At this point, I'm not sure if I need  to help him out. I ended up sitting on the other end of the bed,  checking out my nails, and the rest was  a dum dee dum moment while waiting for him to finish his thing.  He smiled at me and thanked me again. When I was about to leave the cubicle, he helped me put my robe back on. He tied the sash  while he is at my back, his arms almost wrapping my waist (like that Jack and Rose Titanic scene). He then put his lips near my ears and whispered, "sana makabalik po kayo." Kilig and tempting pero I know, that's the end of it.

And so, in my three decades of existence,  that is my first spakol experience. Indeed, happy endings are relative and doesn't have to end as expected. Did I enjoy it? Yes I did. The sensual things, the first experience and the thought of helping someone (char...ang sakit sa bulsa). Overall, I received the massage I needed with some sort of teasing.

Looking back, the naïve me just realized that the name of the spa is not that innocent after all. E could have stood for erotic... or extra service. *Face palm*

The Guy in the Elevator

After another date with Warren, he had to go to a party. I can't accompany him because almost everyone in that party are interns from the institution where I am working. Though a few of Warren's friends know that he's dating an anesthesiologist in the same institution, I remain to be a mystery guy for them. We don't wanna be the next talk of the hospital, so we kept our dates secret. 

Fortunately, he is sober enough to drive me home. I kissed him good night before I stepped out of the car. I gathered my things from the back of his car. I had no time to put them all in my bag so I just carried my iPad and my white smock gown with my other hand.

As I was about to enter my building, I saw a guy with a nice outfit smoking his e-cigar beside the building entrance. Since I just came from a date and you know what, I didn't bother to check him out and just walked straight ahead to the elevator. There were some announcements posted beside the elevator, and an open letter of complaint about the manner of nomination for the home owner's representatives. Since it's controversial, I was so eager to read it before I pushed the elevator button.

Finally, I finished reading the two-paged letter. I stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. As the doors were about to close, I heard footsteps approaching, so out of politeness, I pushed the open button again. It was e-cigar smoking guy. He is kindda mestizo, average built and height. He glanced at the white smock gown that I was carrying and commented, "Wow, there's a doctor in the house." I just smiled. He pushed the 9th floor button and the elevator started to go up. "Martin, by the way," he introduced himself. "Basti," I bluntly replied. "You work at PGH?" He asked me. He probably saw the logo in the my smock gown. I just nodded. "What's your unit number?" He asked me. Grabe ha, unit number agad? "703" I mumbled in an incomprehensible way so that he won't understand. Luckily, he didn't not ask me to clarify my reply. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked. My shock translated to my facial expression. He kindda noticed it and said, "...in the nomination of the owner's representative?" He quickly followed up and said "I guess you're busy?"  I just said yes. Then, the door opened as the elevator reached the 7th floor. "Good night,"he said before I stepped out. I said good bye and smiled. As the doors closed, I rolled my eyes and mumbled, "Flirt!"

The Guy behind the Mask

When we first spoke to each other, I told you that you're just like my ex, Harry.

Chinese, introvert, thrifty and a doctor... well, that's what your PR profile says. After that first message, we had a long conversation. We regularly exchanged messages.You denied it at first, but eventually, I found out that we are in the same institution. You were just a clerk then, while I was your intern. I checked my FB for all the Chinese surnames in your batch, and that's how I figured out who you are.

We have already met before we first talked to each other at PR. It was several months before that. I was the outgoing post duty intern while you were the incoming duty clerk. Your co-clerk introduced us to each other, but either you're shy or snob because you just went on doing your stuff. Warren..that's your name, though it did not stick to my mind, I've always noticed you whenever we bump into each other.

I told you how we met but it seemed like that that event was so insignificant for you because you can't remember it. I could still remember every detail of it... where we were, and yes, the face mask that you were wearing because you're sick that time. But that doesn't matter, because at least, you're speaking to me now.

We have been talking to each other through PR, FB and SMS for several months and we have shared a lot of stories about ourselves. You always tell me about some significant updates in your life, like when you came out to your family. You told me a lot about your self, about how introvert you are, about how you graduated Magna cum laude and a lot more that introduced me to your character. You also never failed to update me about your dates, like your very first date with a Chinese archer, and your date with guys that I also know, like Julian...and yes... HARRY! What a small world.

Apparently, you have known each other through PR even before we met there. I was okay with you dating my ex. I was even the one who encouraged you to go out with him. (And until now, I still don't know why I did that).  I pushed you because I think that you're perfect for each other, as I have said in my very first message to you, you're just like my ex. But on the day that you met, I had mixed emotions. I don't know if I'm jealous of Harry dating someone else, or you dating someone else, who happened to be my ex. I was starting to like you that time.

Things didn't go well with you and Harry. You were so frustrated when he didn't reply to your messages. I could tell that you really liked him, and so for an unknown reason, I gathered up my courage and asked Harry what happened. He just said that he didn't feel the spark. But eventually, you got over your frustration over my ex.

to be continued...

photo from here

Hero's Welcome

It has been more than a week since the last day of the boards. Due to the monsoon rains that battered Manila and the holidays, the release of the results was significantly delayed, prolonging our agony. Normally, it only takes 3 days to release the results, but due to the disruption of government offices, 3 days became 9 days.  I was watching a movie when I received a call from Isabela. "Congrats bestie! We all passed. 100%!"

The day after the release of the results, our school invited us to come for a thanksgiving celebration. On our way to the chapel, there were several med students on both sides of the paved way, carrying balloons, banners and roses. Then, they started cheering and beating drums, throwing rose petals on our path. They handed each one of us a long-stemmed white rose. It was a hero's welcome. A gesture of gratitude for maintaining the school's prestige, making it the top performing medical school in the country, along with 3 other schools with a 100% passing rate.

The alumni association treated us with a buffet lunch after the thanksgiving mass. After eating, I sat near the main stairs of the college. I watched as med students run up and down the stairs and realized how time flies. I remember myself wearing that same white uniform and every year, there is this one day when I pass by the celebration of the new board passers. In those moments, I always wished that I would finish med school on time and pass the boards with one take. Now, that day has come. I am now one of those celebrating, and perhaps, these students, were just like me then, dreaming and hoping.

But then I also realized, it's not the end. It's just like opening a new chapter. A tougher ground, as now, I have a license number that is in constant peril. I can now feel the pressure mounting as my choices could now determine if one would live or die.

By the way, in case you are curious, Adrian also made it. I feel happy for him. 

Another Ghost from the Past

The room assignments for the board exams are out. 

All takers who registered for this year's licensure exam are arranged alphabetically according to their family names, distributed among 3 testing centers in Manila. With heart pounding (because the release of room assignments is basically telling you that the board exams are just 4 days away), I checked my name online. I was quite relieved when I found out that some of my friends (surnames starting in C and D) were assigned in the same floor and building. I wouldn't be that much of a loner during break time. As I went through the names of my classmates and friends, I came across a very familiar name, just 3 rooms away from mine. It was Adrian's.

Adrian is a graduate of a Catholic medical school under the Benedictine order and he was an intern from a private hospital in a posh district in San Juan. I dated him back then. Nothing happened between us, which is probably the reason why he never called back. He kindda made it clear that he's just after his ulterior motives (which is, in his own words, "play" with me).

So the day of the exams came, and I totally forgot about the chances of encountering Adrian again. Well, taking the board exams make you think of other more important stuff,  like PASSING the exam! Before the start of the first test, we were allowed to go to the bathroom. After taking a leak, I checked myself out on the mirror behind someone who is washing his face on the lavatory. When he raised his head, I noticed that he stared at me through the mirror. Well, it's probably normal to check out the person using the mirror behind you, so I just left, forgetting about the incident. 

Then, the second day of exams came, now, people are more relaxed and are more aware of the people around them. Since there is heavy traffic in front of the testing center because of the road construction, my friends and I were dropped off somewhere near and we went on foot for the rest of the way. While we were walking, we passed by the guy who checked me out through the mirror the day before. He's buying cigarette from a takatak boy. And that's when it hit me... Adrian was a smoker. Honestly, I forgot how he looked like, or I guess, he gained a little weight. I just ignored the idea of bumping into him. So what? It wouldn't affect how I would take the exams.

The second day went by like a breeze. While I waited for my friends along the corridor, there he was on the other end. We glanced at each other but I showed no signs of recognition or anything. I quickly turned to another angle pretending that it's one of those accidental glances you make with random people. Finally, my friends came and as we went down the stairs, I saw him in my peripheral vision, following us up to the parking lot. Fortunately, our sundo was early and we were picked up right away. Then, the second week of exams came. I dunno if it's me, or it's just him try to get near me all the time. CR breaks, lunch breaks, in between breaks... papampam much! 

On the last day of exams, I accompanied my friends to a nearby church. I sat on a bleacher at the back as I waited for my friends to say their prayers. I've forgotten how grand Catholic Churches are since I became a Protestant. The last time I went inside one was during my father's burial (because his other family is Catholic) and so I just spent the rest of my time looking around, appreciating the architecture of the all-steel, gothic-inspired church. What caught my attention is a guy praying intently, his head bowed down, eyes tightly shut, his hands almost hugging the crucifix hanging near the entrance of the church. I instantly recognized that he's Adrian. Pati ba naman dito? But slowly, my bitterness turned into compassion as I could see, he might be going through a desperate situation.

Heavy rain was pouring outside the church as Maring started to devastate the metro. Our sundo took a while to come as the streets start to flood. I decided to go out of the church to wait. As I stand under the shade of the church's entrance, a guy stood just a foot away in front of me. Seriously Adrian? There's like 30 square meters of space and you decided to stand in front of me? Like a reflex, I went away, opened my umbrella and just waited under the rain. And yeah, I realized, seriously? There's 30 square meters of space under the shade and I had to stay under the rain...drama much! I guess that sent him the signal that there's no way I'm initiating a conversation. Anyway, from my position, I get to observe him more. Seems like he had no umbrella and he's figuring out a way to get to a ride. Later on, I saw him take out his hanky, put it on his head and skipped in between the puddles of water. I watched him as he made his way out of the gate and fade away from my sight. 

I watched him take the wrath of the weather, as he took the wrath of my bitterness. But then, I also remember the image of a desperate guy hugging a crucifix. Was all that papampam a call for comfort? Perhaps he needs to hear from someone that he's not the only one who finds the exam difficult, or maybe listen to some words of encouragement. Would it have been better if I offered him a ride, or shared my umbrella until he got a ride, or at least I said something nice? I guess, I should have done that, but I was short sighted, overcame by an emotional turmoil from the past. Oh well, for now, he has to endure the wrath of Maring and the wrath of Basti. Anyway, jerks need a little bit of spanking from time to time. I just wish the best for both of us. 

photo from here

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