The Wet (White) Party

And there was I, dancing below the make-shift ledge at Chelu's very slippery dance floor. The club was packed beyond its capacity. Bottles of beers were tossed from one side to another and guests continued to come in droves, even if there were no more space to cramp their drizzle-drenched bodies. As I swayed and bended to the sound of hard-house beats, Princess, who was seated just behind me said that he would go to the bathroom to pee. Immediately, I left my location in order to save his spot.

Just when I am beginning to find comfort dancing in Princess' cramped area, a stocky guy outflanked my space which eventually put him directly in front of me. His quietness gave me an idea that he might be a masculine guy. His semikal hair and slender, bridged nose immediately turned my hots to him. With the opportunity presented in front of me, I moved closer to observe him better. It didn't take long before the prize became mine.

Since the dance floor was already beyond its full capacity, everyone was pushing one another just to have a piece of space for themselves. The stocky guy was pushed by someone against my body and when he tried to regain his balance, my hand was already tucked in his hips. I knew it was a deliberate act because he was already following my dance moves the moment he started dancing again.

As the dance tunes being played gets raunchier by every track, I felt the music overtaking me. Soon, we were dancing intimately. I was behind him, while he firmly presses his hips against my crotch area. Somehow, our circular movement got me a boner and our dance routine turned both of us completely wild - that we were literally grinding against one another - while our hands explored each other's body.

It's been a while since I danced the way I did tonight. The last time it happened, I was the one pressing my back against a partner, as he thrusts his crotch area to simulate a sexual movement while dancing to a steamy hot track. The friction it produced lead to a more intimate contact between us. Such intimacy triggered a sort of temporary bond and openness, that allowed us to express what we feel for one another.

Occasionally the contact never ended in the dance floor. Thrice did I slept in someone else's bed since the host was also my former dance partner.

But times have already changed. Now that I'm perceived as the older partner, it is already expected of me to take the more dominant role when dancing with someone - particularly when dancing with younger men. Last night the roles have completely changed. It was me who controlled my dance partner's moves, and it was me who inspired him to lower his inhibitions - to the point that others were already complaining about how sexually suggestive our dance movements were.

It could have lead to even deeper openness, if not for Princess who interrupted our routine just to tell me that he can't bear the crowd anymore.

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This year's White Party ended in flop because of the most unfortunate rain that drenched Malate and the revelers who prepared for this major event for more than a month.

In fairness to the organizers, they did prepare for the party. If nature did not intervene to piss everyone off, this year's White Party could go down in history as one of the most promising in my five year presence in Malate.

Running from lona to lona, drinking beer while droplets of water falls in someone's well dressed hair, and fab drag-queens tip-toing in the street so as not to soil their white stilletos; it was a sorry sight to see. Nevertheless, the thought that I was successful in dancing with my bet, thus regaining a portion of my stolen confidence is enough for me to overlook all the misfortunes we experienced last night.

The 2007 White Party experience maybe considered the worst for many people who went there to have fun and celebrate the event with the entire Sangkabaklaan. But for me, who had tasted again a slice of my past in that cramped corner of Chelu's dance floor,

I consider such experience as one of my best.

And should consider embracing the role of a Top guy next time.

May this year's rainy White Party be a sign that my July would be drenched with wet moments, never before seen during the previous months of this year.