The Irony Of Hook-Ups

For two straight nights, I found myself getting wasted on the dance floors of Malate. The scorpions reign supreme and I am, but a slave to its urgings. Describing each moment as fun would be an understatement. It was euphoric. Since I already made new friends after Kane introduced me to his clique, the game of seduction became less difficult. People now see your fame. A lot were willing to be the prey that night. You can sense them when trading glances, or when they discreetly squeeze your prick or your hand - depending on which gets to be snapped first. A big, mestizo neighbor kept stepping on my foot. Must be bitter still after ditching his proposal to go home the first time we got introduced. Of all the hand intrusions, none were successful in getting my attention. My guess is either I let discriminating taste affect my judgment, (on the contrary, Rain Darwin used to comment about bringing "exotic" guys in the Engkantos) or I was enjoying having V (Kane's best friend) as company.

So there. It was already past three and I am losing my options. Hate to admit but it seems I have to resort to chatting just to tempt my demons. Checking my phone, saw a missed call and a text message. It was from a guy I met in the chat room that afternoon. He was asking if I'm still up. I said yes. To cut the story short, he wanted us to meet.

This guy, which we would call Brent for this entry is new two the scene. Brent wanted to bed a "hunky" and "masculine" guy. I told him to look for someone else. I offered my hand of friendship instead. But Brent was insistent, he said my picturetrail photos do well according to his taste. Told him the photos were deceptive. I'd rather believe my own words than accept other's perception. Haha.

"Would you rather give me to someone else, when you could personally teach everything you know?" The Lamang Lupa of Engkantos suddenly intruded my thoughts.

"You sure you want me to do it for you?" I was hesitant. Instincts tell me that I'm dealing with a far more superior kid.

"Ikaw rin. I might hire someone just to get off this itch." He nailed a point.

---

The cab cruises off Espana beating the traffic lights along the way. Meeting place was at Burger King near Welcome Rotonda. I arrived twenty minutes earlier. Wasted and exhausted, I got an apology message. The kid will be late. He needed to grab something to eat. I knew it was him when the guard opened the glass door. He went directly to the bathroom, probably to take a leak.

I trailed behind to finally know the verdict. My instincts were correct, he is a supremo.

The kid is probably 5'11. Sporting a semikal hair, he appears far, far younger for his age. He said he's 26 but his fair and spotless face suggest of being in his early 20s. His boy-next-door charm defies my ER rule. But since the kid looks and acts very, very astigin, plus he reminds me of another guy I slept with last summer,

I was willing to dance with scorpions.

But he's not.

"Dude I'm sorry, I have to call off our trip." He began. "Nakasalubong ko yung tropa ko and he's wondering why I'm here at this ungodly hour."

Yeah, I was wondering too why I let my urges drag me from Malate to Welcome Rotonda for this meet-up.

"So I told him tambay muna ako sa kanila." He explained further.

"Yeah right, at least you showed up fucker," I said in my head.

"Honga pare eh, mukhang lasing na lasing ka na." I affirmed. "Medyo pagod na rin ako so..."

"... next time na lang." He finished my sentence.

"Yeah next time na nga lang." I was looking at his face and his woozy movement. It looks like he's about to pass out.

"Kaya mo pa makauwi niyan?"

"Sa bahay ng friend ko ako makikistay. Diyan lang naman siya." He reassured.

"Pasensya na talaga. Sorry for dragging you here. Don't worry i'll make it up to you next time."

"Oki!"

But the truth is, there will never be a next time. Some other guy might have already squashed my scorpions.

If only I stuck to keeping him as a friend instead, lesser would be our chances of hostility.

We parted ways ten minutes after meeting up. I never showed hints of attraction, nor willingness to renegotiate a deal. There's a need to cover up the tracks.

Deleting his text messages was a matter of pride. It was an attempt to forget a folly. For no matter how silly it was to reject ten guys in Malate - only to be rejected by one elsewhere, the concluding twist makes you somehow think.

But this is how things work when you play.

This, my friends is the irony of hook-ups.