Kicking and Screaming

Phase 1: The Introduction

Yes, I honestly wanted to waste my night fooling around with the Internet. I was From Duty and I intended to spend it lazily, at home, in my most comfortable shorts and T-shirt. But then, a classmate's text started it all:

"Pauwi na kami. May ipapakilala daw sa inyo dalawa ni Allen si Cocoy. Hehehe…"

I wanted to hide.

I've been set up by friends so many times I was probably a master in blind dates. And it always ends the same. We remain nothing but acquaintances. Occasionally, I bump into one during gimik nights and I choose to pretend I didn't see him or I hide, afraid to find out if he even remembered me. Oo na, sabihin na nating medyo mababa ang self-esteem ko. Hehehe… And one just disappeared out of the face of my inbox without any warning only to see his Friendster default pic a month later with him and his new girlfriend posing infront of his cellphone cam.

"Alam mo, kung friends talaga tayo, you could have at least updated me. I wouldn't be mad at you… Yes, you!... You know who you are!"

So, the guys arrived and I finally met the one my classmates were setting me up with, David Beckham.* I reluctantly entertained the guy for my classmates' sake. (Oh, guys… baka sabihin niyo, wala akong pakisama. Ginagawa ko lang 'to para hindi kayo mapahiya.) In all fairness, it surprised me that he wasn't actually as bad as I expected. I guess it turns out that guys are actually better at matchmaking than most girls. Hahaha… David wasn't shy but he wasn't very talkative either, which was a good thing because I get bored with shy guys and I could not tolerate guys who are too talkative. I don't like it when you have uncomfortable gaps of silence and I absolutely hate the skipping rope conversations: Yung nag-aantay ka lang mag-catch siya ng breath para naman makapasok ka rin ng ilang lines sa conversation… And physically, okay… he was cute. I admit. Tao lang po. Hehehe…

Phase 2: Getting To Know You

Despite my adamant protests of not wanting to get out of the house, my classmates were still able to drag me out of it, into the guy's Ford vehicle, and into the house of his cousin (whom have I mentioned, could pass up as Dr. Miranda's younger and more good-looking brother, complete with the mannerisms, stance and hand gestures) for dinner. The ever attentive host continued to regal me with tales about his hometown, his college days, even his highschool days before dinner and during the post-dinner inuman. My ever-familiar friend-slash-foe, Emperador Brandy, was the choice drink of the night and remembering how much I had gotten acquainted with our toilet bowl because of this traitorous friend, I knew I was gonna have to pass up the tagayan.

But not after downing at least one glass.

I kind of have a love-hate relationship with Emperador Brandy. So, sue me.

Phase 3: An Affair to Remember

People always said that when you talk to a drunk guy, he will always tell you the truth. I honestly have no idea if he was. Sometimes, the things he told me would surely bend any girl's ear and I had to keep myself from asking him, "Are you for real?"

So, he liked talking to me, So much so that we spent the night talking animatedly to each other. Not that I was boasting but I knew I can carry good conversations. I knew I wasn't exceptionally pretty, and not that sexy either, so I always try to make up for what I lack physically by making a guy comfortable enough when talking to me. And when the guy knows how to carry a good conversation himself, it makes for a very interesting thing called chemistry.

I think the plan backfired.

Somewhere along the road, he had gotten too sodden enough that we were conversing as if we haven't just met a few hours ago but more like months or years in fact. This newly found closeness that he had conjured up in his mind was evident with the way he maneuvered the conversation to medical anecdotes, his past girlfriends, his feelings towards me, his haircut, his highschool teachers and even to sleeping together. I was pleased, flattered, embarrassed, uncomfortable and freaked out at the same time. It amused me to no end that he seemed to be the male version of myself two years ago. Only drunk. It would have been a good thing except for the fact that he was totally intoxicated. Incapacitated. Deep in the throes of alcohol. He found me so comfortable enough that by the end of the night, he was talking to me with his face six inches within my own face… Yes, I carry a ruler with me all the time... When we sat down side by side, my upper arm was practically in his chest and the side of my breast was close to brushing his upper arm. I never minded really but I wasn't too comfortable either. Contrary to what most people will think, I'm not that liberated. But it made the situation more amusing when he started holding my hands, na parang matagal na kaming magsyota.

"Hawak-kamay… Di kita iiwan sa paglakbay… "

Arghhh…

Add to that the fact that we were doing it infront of the my landlord's children, my housemates and the class' two worst jokesters of all time, who will never make me live this down for as long as they knew me, this night has certainly ended out to be one of the most embarrassing adventures I've ever had in Liloy.

And I wasn't even drunk.

Phase 4: The End

Suffice it to say, everything will end just as I expected it. The guy is currently scheduled to go on travel for the next few weeks and there is no likely possibility that we will probably see each other again. At least, not anytime while I'm in Liloy.

Hahaha… And I've almost forgotten how it was to date younger guys.

Oh, well. Out of sight, out of my mind.

For Allen