my niche in the red light district

My apartment is situated at the heart of the city. To be specific, it is near the red light district cause that’s where the Cebuanos’ heart is. Ü At past midnight, it is normal to see the streets filled with cars from the number of strip clubs that are lined up near the highway and the numerous pimps and call girls stationed at their designated posts.

Since my work is at 1am, and I am referring to my normal job in PS, I leave the house at 12am and hail a cab outside.

In a span of 10-30 minutes waiting, a lot can happen. Everyday.

A car usually stops by, a window is rolled down and a face that is hardly discernible goes, “Hi, babe.” I smirk, walk a few steps and turn away.

Or a car was persistent and followed me where I went. I shook my head and politely said, “No,” while muttering “Go away,” under my breath.

Or a black Crosswind turned around in circles and the driver shouted ‘psst’ until I gave him the finger and he stopped and asked, “Where can I take you?” between ragged breaths. Even if I’m running late, there is no way I’d be tempted to go. If he has the face of Steven Strait ,  I’d happily hop on without questions. Haha.

Or a car full of men drove by and waved and I waved back, and to my horror they stopped the car, turned around and asked me to hop on. I was late already at that time and doing 8 men in 30 minutes will make me later so no, I shook my head again.

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not a book

           An ex’s friend texted me tonight, “Mahilig ka pala sa junior.”

           I was baffled.

          Junior who, or junior what?

          Because my ex is a junior, you know ****, jr., he must talking about some guy. Or a guy’s some.

          Then I got all defensive and my just saloned-arched brow rose.

         “Hey, m single n I can c huever I want. We’re friends so I rili don’t nid ur judgement. But, muah. Take care sweetie, Missed seeing u around.”

          Hey, we all judge. That’s all we ever do it’s becoming everyone’s favorite pastime. We judge people by how they dress (slut), how they talk (jologs), and even how they think (bobo). It would be pure hypocrisy if I claim I’ve never judged but I’m starting to kick that habit because if there’s one person people are likely to judge, it would be me.

          I heard what people have been talking about me since the breakup and it’s fun because they don’t know shit. My friends also bore the brunt of these hate talk and I feel bad because people’s brains are so fucked up from all that sun exposure they can no longer think logically or open-mindedly.

         I’m telling my friends now that whatever they do, I still got their backs. Even if they’ve killed someone, stolen something, been sued for estaffa, or even snagged a boyfriend, I would never turn my back on them. I will never turn my back on you. I don’t know but I’m the last person in this world to ever hold a grudge against anyone. It’s not healthy. We’re friends. I’ve known you for so long I can already blackmail you to your mom. I’ve seen you sleep with your cheeks wet from your drool. I held your hair while you puked all over my car. I’ve covered your ass when I was telling your mom you were with me when you were just banging your bf on a school night. I was with you while you were banging your bf. Haha. I know that you can also say the same thing for me. Saying that you’re my friend isn’t just a verbal claim, its more than a regular blood compact or the spitting kind where you go pweh pweh to your palm and you shake hands. It is very heavy – the word friend and I don’t take that for granted, people.

          So I won’t judge. If you go, “Gang, I’m hiding from the world because people are after me. I’ve stolen their money,”, I’ll tell you the directions to my house and let you stay there.

          To the text message, I got defensive because I was hurt. I wasn’t expecting you to do the same but I was just expecting you to be a friend.

          Oh, where are my Benson and Hedges…

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