too drunk for comfort

The medrep guy was at Waterfront for a convention and I was at Starbucks with my girls. His hotness  ex-teammate who is an ex-PBA player from San Juan Letran who wanted to hang out with me that night and I blew off medrep guy. His name was M who was just in Cebu for vacation and wanted to check out what’s hot in the city. “Gala tayo.” He said. “I’ll be waiting at the cafe.”

Then he came and whew, hot: 6 feet tall, clean shaven and the boyish grin. I introduced him to Mitz and Kitz (Granny Goose invented our friendship) and I realized when he leaned over that he stank of alcohol. Getting drunk before starting the party? Major turn off. I told him he can go around Crossroads, The Loft, and Formo. He said he’ll just bring his friend home. His friend is gay. More raised eyebrows. A basketball player and a gay guy is highly wholesome. He had been gone for an hour and he told me why couldn’t we just meet up in his hotel in five minutes. I sent a text to his hotness saying his friend is an a-hole and decided to tell medrep that I’m seeing him tonight.

He called right away. “Hey, baby. I am so drunk right now. I’m picking you up. Where are you?”

“Ayala.”
“Okay.” There was loud laughter in the background. “I’m on my way there. Where are you again?”

I hung up. He came in ten. I went up to the car and he was busy cleaning the passenger seat from receipts and unopened mints to notice me. “Aren’t you coming in?” I asked.

“No, I am too drunk.” His words were a cross between slurring and lisping. I rolled my eyes and went back to the girls. I told them we were leaving and would they want to meet him? They said yes and I crossed my fingers that he will at least be not too drunk to say hi.
I opened the door. “Say hi to my friends.” I demanded.

He grabbed my hand and I had to haul him up. I can’t look at the girls in the eye anymore. The necessary introductions were made and he rattled off a series of sorrys that I had to stop him before he goes overboard. “Sweetie, they’re going home.”

“Well, let’s take them home.” he said.
“They can go home themselves. They have a car.”
“Oh.” He looked at them as though he was looking at them for the first time and he said goodbye. I waved to the girls and was about to tell him his behavior wasn’t necessary when he shoved me his car keys. “Drive me. Take us home.”

I slid into the car and didn’t say anything. This is turning out to be the worst drunken night. We got to his apartment and I was already fuming mad. I cannot believe I’m doing this but I’ve never slung a man’s arm around my neck for him to be carried to his bed. I have never taken a man to his restroom to pat his back while he puked on the toilet. The stench by the way is incredible. We went back to the room and just when he settled himself on the bed did he get up again and I knew he wanted to vomit for the nth time. I counted one to ten and thanked God for giving me the gift of patience. While wondering why the hell I am staying, I also wondered why I tolerated this behavior when I just blew off the Letran guy who also reeked of vodka.

The spate of puke – the puke brigade – lasted for a good ten minutes and we all fell asleep exhausted.

I woke up the morning after and he was already freshened up. “Hey..” He stroked my hair and said, “Thanks for last night. You deserve the best breakfast in the city.”

I half-opened one eye and mumbled, “Pancake House?”
“Going,” he said and he was back to his old self again.

When we got to the car, he looked at me with a confused look on his clean-shaven face. “Who drove us home?”

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how are you?

September 2006.

Cat and I were at Mactan International Airport to go get Janice. I knew you were nearby. Your presence’s encroaching all over the place is soo great I could almost feel your leg brushing against mine whenever you’re lying beside me.

Yet you are so far.

You said that right after the new bridge, the first intersection going left is where your apartment is. That’s like five minutes away from Save More… from Waterfront… from the Airport itself. But I can hardly reach you.

D, I MISS YOU. I miss calling you D to cut your name short. I miss you calling me babe and how my heart flutters every time you say it. I miss how my heart flutters whenever it has anything to do with you.

I miss you coming over the house when everybody else is asleep and when they awake they just give me knowing smiles. I miss your presence filling up my entire room and I can’t move around a lot because your tall body is splayed all over. I miss the sneaky way you hog all my pillows without me realizing I only have one bolster under my head. I miss the loud snores that made Bless freak out one time. I miss the look of exasperation on your face whenever I teased you. I’m just glad I get to miss your hand whenever you swat me with it. I miss waking up and kissing you while you’re asleep and when I go back to bed you’re hand would suddenly find its way around my waist. I miss you cuddling behind me and pulling me close even if its 360 degrees outside.

I miss the text messages until 5am. I hate that everytime I leave the office the lobby reminds me of those times I hang out there just to convince the guard to give me my phone so that I could text you. I miss the guard saying, “Cellphone, ma’am?”

I miss teasing you on your pagka-vain because whenever I come over your house you’d still put on gel. I miss waiting for you to get ready for so long it makes me wonder .. . I miss your mom and her loquaciousness that often annoys you because she won’t leave us alone. I miss your brother who is generous enough to give me my favorite mp3 because you told him i love it. I miss your house. I miss our little corner in the patio where its dark and you’re so convinced no one is going to see us. I miss your over the top excuses just to make me come over: I miss seeing you in your chef’s uniform because you look so cute in blue trousers and a pseudo-trenchcoat. I miss seeing you out of it.

I miss you teasing me on my music preference but when Breathe’s How Can I Fall played you grabbed my hand, pretended it was a microphone and sang with all your heart.

I miss us coming up with all kinds of plans but never ever had any opportunity to fulfill them. I miss your cakes, your childish excitement whenever you concoct something, your eagerness in hearing out my tastebud’s opinion and your complete disappointment when I don’t exaggerate how good it tastes.

I miss you complaining that I go out a lot and telling me that the bars will still be open the next night when I get home at 6am. I miss our weekends together. I miss that you can’t last a weekend without alcohol. I miss telling you that Red Horse, Tanduay and SMB are not the only beverage listed in the world. I miss you telling me that Fundador also is part of the list. I miss getting happy after 3 shots and you’d just let me sleep in your arms while you finish the entire tagay. I miss those tattooed arms that suffocate me so much when its around me. I miss being suffocated.

I miss your modesty, your penchant for explaining things even a 2 year old can understand and your simplicity. I hate that I can’t be simple enough for you.

I miss you so much. I really miss you. I really, really miss all of you.

I’m missing so much just when we’re only like this for seven months. How much more a year.

Even if I cannot take back whatever we have, you will forever be that someone special that I cannot have. The boy every girl claims to have wanted but never had..

Watch out Cebu. Flood.

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girlfriends tripping

The weekend spelled F-U-N and N-Y followed until Monday evening.

Shiela, Dotty, Kit, Mitz and I were at Starbucks before we headed out to Marco Polo Hotel  until we all realized the no show of the bar was a major casualty that’s why we dashed to Grand Convention Center to, of course, dish out the menu for the day – men. Haha. That’s the thing about an all girl-nighter. You harvat. You ukay. You dispose. Wink. Wink.

Our ever doting mama Kit was at the bar scouting and a hunky American who is Vin Diesel’s twin separated at birth cornered us asking for pictures. “I’m on vacation!” he said. We happily obliged.

A few shots of Jaggermeister left the divas disoriented – excuses, excuses. We stalked Cebu like a vengeance and drove around where habitues flocked their favorite spots: The Loft, Kasadja, Outpost, and Crossroads and ack, small world! Ernie Rolida at Vudu teehee. Nice seeing you, you hunk of a man. See, Cagayan and Cebu – all a-merging. Martin Pulgar was at Vudu and seeing him back in Cagayan de Oro didn’t cut out for a loong stay for the entourage so we left. I saw D’s friend Chris and Kit nudged me not to go autistic or she’ll wring my neck. Chris said my beau looked great who also told me that it’s been a while since we last talked. Oohh.. heart strings tugged in all directions and Kit nudged me more.

But no it wasn’t D who was at my place that night, it was some basketball player-me-rolling-eyes again who persisted on going. Juvenile people are becoming a bore. They are the most incoherent people in the world.

5am took us to Kit’s place – the ever depressing, stressful – yeah, yeah sorry Kit hahah – flight of stairs! I swear, those stairs are horrible! They absolutely do no justice to your stilettos. Bad. Going down in heels is bad, going up is worse. If I frequent that place, an oxygen should be stuck at the top of the stairs for my convenience. Oh, can’t imagine the pregnant Kitzee going up for 6 months more. *Shudder*

Mitz and I left Kit’s at 9am, Sunday…. aand saw the girls again at Starbucks at 9pm. After getting the stickers stamped on the red card which become already a recurrent activity even in our sleep we mumble, “Race to 21“, we were hanging out at Mitz’s classmate Aljun’s house who has the most adorable puppy ever. They call him Hero but his real name is Sprongklong Andrei. Aw.. how could anything that cute have a really bizarre name?  

 Me, Rj and Mitzee

 We left the house at 5am and stayed at Mitz’s until 4pm – still wide-awake – where we went online and had food delivered and slept in between laughing and wireless connection temporary shutdown. Dinner was at Dessert Factory and yes, embarrassingly, we still had on our clothes from yesterday except Mitz who had all the luxury in the world to shower and change.

I also saw medrep guy. He called and asked where I was. He called and said why my phone was dead for the entire day. I told him the last time it was charged was yesterday and I haven’t been home since. He said why I haven’t been going home and whose bed did I end up sleeping on. I didn’t say anything because I was freaking out at this behavior. He kissed me and I started to relax even if warning bells were still ringing at the back of my head. He took me home at 11pm and kissed me one last time before driving off.

Ironically last weekend was refreshing. It is different to just be with girls who hoard thoughts with forever bashing of men yet the expected cant-live-without-them rebuttal and the comforting yes-we-are-fabulous chants and the realization that maybe there really just isn’t the right time for a person to claim herself settled, mature and ready but it is just a matter of feeling, of understanding the weight of those words and of applying them to one’s advantage.

That’s the thing about an all girl-nighter. You harvat. You ukay. You dispose. And then you lived to laugh about the whole thing. Cheers to girlfriends who don’t erase your number of the phonebook just because you’bve been a loser   

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