On Lyric and Capitol Movie Theaters in the Escolta in Manila

During one lunch time with friends on a weekday somewhere in Roosevelt Island in NYC, I heard with extreme curiosity for the first time the confessional sharing made by one of my friends who were around that time. I am not going to describe him more here so I can help protect his identity for now. Suffice it to say that those who were with me during that lunch are good friends of mine.

He narrated how at age 14 (or so), he was approached by a Chinese older guy who was probably in his 30s and married while they were walking on the sidewalk of Sta Cruz, Manila. The man invited him to watch a movie in one of those movie theatres found in Escolta. I have been to two of these theatres, namely 'Lyric' and 'Capitol' (there probably were other theatres found on that street but I have to verify this). Although built with good materials, these theatres look old and passe by the time I started watching movies there, and they're mainly used by patrons who'd like to have fun with similarly thinking other patrons from all walks of life in this part of Manila and its nearby environs. I'm not sure if I wrote about those encounters I've had in those theatres in my first book....if not, then I should find time to write about them one of these days.

Going back to my friend's story, he shared how he was led by the older guy into the bathroom in the loge section of the movie house, and he was soon being orally accosted by the man whom he just met on the street one time he was enjoying himself away from the concerns his family and his small world then had.

He shared how he was given PhP100 by the man, and they were soon having a meal in one of those restaurants in the area. I am sure I had been in that restaurant that my friend mentioned, but I can't recall its name now. That PhP100 given to my friend in the early 1960s is probably equivalent to PhP1000 as of this writing. That also started a brief relationship of my good friend with that man who turned out to be a textile dealer with a store located in Binondo, the important commercial section where numerous businesses of Chinese-Filipinos started, flourished, and went on to bring about more money into the Philippine economic system. My friend shared how the man started giving him textiles that he was also instructed to sell by the businessman when my friend goes back to his province during weekdays.

My friend did start having his selling business of textiles soon, but he was not right away paid by customers. They had to wait for cash from their agricultural products, e.g., rice, so they can get what they need and want, and in turn pay their bills, including those with my friend. My friend would soon find himself being teased endlessly by his 2 half brothers after they started wondering how he's able to buy really expensive stuff for himself. That probably got him to eventually decide to stop seeing the man with whom he probably had an ongoing relationship for at least a year. 

Almost Scared Shit of Getting HIV Infected

I found myself chatting with a roommate one afternoon at home about exciting encounters we've had recently. I immediately opened up about sharing what I did with someone who lives in a 100+-year old mansion on Richmond Road in Staten Island that was converted into several apartments, one of which is being rented out to a recently-found bed mate. His unit looks so lived in and with fascinating furnishings and glass windows that open to a view of tall trees. I added that I felt being in between being scared and being fascinated while I was in that apartment that late weekday evening.

As soon as he was hearing me describe more closely what I experienced during the scene with my new found friend, my roommate was immediately giving me almost accurate descriptions of the place. Looking worried, he was soon telling me that I should keep away from ever making it out again with that guy who he said is a criminal, as in someone who would go to expensive Manhattan restaurants to have dinner and not ever paying them. My friend added that this guy would have to hide himself among the thick foliage of mature trees that surround the said mansion one time the cops came trying to catch him. He also added that the place is known to have a few drug dealers living in some of the units. He soon followed it up by saying that the guy's HIV positive and that he gets financial assistance because of his health situation. I asked him how sure he was about his information, and he replied that he knew a personal friend who used to live with the said fellow.

Then I furtively stopped doing all the cleaning that I was engaged then while I was chatting with my roommate. I recall that I engaged in safe practices when I made it with that guy that particular night. I quickly had a barrage in mind of a long list of reminders so as to convince myself that it is not that bad as it seems to be from what I was just hearing from my well-intentioned roommate. Soon, my roommate had to chat on the phone with someone whose call came right there and then.

I was left to myself and was justifying what I've just done that particular night. I could not believe I was being so stupid. I was secretly shaking my head. And I proceeded to tell my landlord on what I just heard, thinking that it would help me get relieved somewhat. He was soon telling me about what happens to those who are promiscuous, indirectly describing me in the process. After a while, my other roommate showed up in the room and started sharing what he heard from me with our landlord. But he asked for my permission first, to which I agreed, to share it. The 3 of us were then having a heated discussion about the needs we have to fulfill to be happier in our lives, which desire does not mean endangering ourselves in the process. I convinced myself that I could barely detect a hint of hypocrisy from both of them, which I guess was due to the fact that I had been very open to them about things I do in bed whenever they ask me what I've been into lately. You know how most people are, they ask "How have you been doing these days?" There's a prime value on being honest with your roommates, being my personal policy when living with people I've not known before I came in this dwelling we all now share.

But it also occurred to me to ask my roommate to look into my new found friend's pictures online where I first saw him. My roommate agreed, and we were soon finding out that we were talking about the wrong person. My new found friend's a different one from the one my roommate had in mind. I felt instant relief. My roommate soon shared the information, too, to our landlord. My roommate proceeded to get to know more about the online site that I use for meet up purposes, among other, practical reasons why I get online to link up with people. I doubt if he'd use it as well; I know we've got different tastes when it comes to the type of people we prefer to meet up and have intimate relations with.
 

Making It With a Maintenance Fellow

In one those smartphone apps that allow you to connect and network with others, I got the chance to meet someone who looks far better in his pictures than in person. Well, that's unusual as it is. But what's more unusual was discovering that he lives with his friend, the details of which almost got me backing out of my first chance to meet with him. I was caught totally surprised by it. But my very strong sense of adventure would get the better of me so I took the chance that first time. He and I would soon be making it in bed even if I felt somewhat disappointed upon looking at his face. He's got really red pouting lips but he would give me that look like he's shy and his eyes would look starting from the bottom and directed to the top of his vision. It gives me the idea that he's really shy and ready to get whatever it is that the other person would give him in return. But it's a different experience altogether being in bed with him. 

While in bed, I would see his friend give us snatches of his own curiosity as he would come into the door and look at us, as if he's having a preview of a porn movie being made on that bed in their 1 bedroom apartment on that street that's a few blocks away from the real Chinatown of New York City (NYC). This guy's white and the one in bed with me is black. Needless to say, a lot of things would come into mind while making it with this guy, but these distractions would be gone soon as he and I click very well in bed.

He's a maintenance guy, someone who's doing custodian works in a federal government building in Manhattan, which gives me the idea that he's got a relatively stable job that he could keep until he's retired or until he's disabled. And he's still in his 30s, so I have a feeling he'll just stick it up with this full time, manual job unless he's got other desires in his life that he wants to work on and pursue. 

His friend, I would later come to know, works with another federal government office, and he's a psychologist. I would hear him complain about his co-workers who could probably be the most inept in his own view of the world, probably not realizing that such situation runs along similar lines in other organizations. I think I recognize the feeling he's got, including the frustration. I've been prospecting both of them for my franchise business, which I look forward to having good outcomes in due time. 

In the meantime, I continue meeting with my friend. I've been told that I could come anytime I want (I guess I would have to coordinate the schedules, of course). We would still make it in the same bed that he shares with his friend. I'd ask them if they're lovers, but they both denied it. Upon more queries I took the chance to get answers from them, I would learn they had met in a bathhouse in that section of Flushing, Queens in NYC that had since then been closed. What a convoluted but rather intriguing story, I noted to myself. 

Recalling a Middle-East Pilot from Someone Else's Story A Long Time Ago

When I used to visit one of those early lgbt-friendly bathhouses back in Metro Manila many years ago (I know it was owned and operated by a couple whose connections with the then powerful Marcos clan were really that strong and dependable), I met one guy with whom I exchanged furtively-narrated brief stories in between our cruising activities in the bathhouse. Of course, I can't recall the complete details now, but I still recall how one of his stories would turn me on and make me imagine more details than what were originally provided to me by this fellow who took a particular liking to me that evening. 

He's one of those cute guys who work in one of the major airlines, and you know right away that he's well compensated unlike most workers I'd see those days. He was behaving like he was getting disappointed over his waning prospects of ending up with someone he really likes to be with that night. I saw him walking all over the place, as he would cover the ground floor and the second floor, which was typical with most every one else during that night. 

I would soon learn practically everything about his sexual preferences that time. Among his stories, he shared me his encounter with a commercial airline pilot from the Middle East. The fellow who was sharing me these details probably could have been an airline purser, or one of those who checks out airline personnel before a plane flies out or if there's something that has to be delivered personally (probably a reader out there can explain to me if this makes sense). One time, he had to approach the cockpit and had to brief the pilots for one critical reason or another. The pilot, whom he described as goodlooking, middle-aged but with well-preserved physique, gave him a look and asked him to pay him a visit at his hotel later that night. He understood very well the invite.

And he did show up. He was soon knocking on his hotel door, and he was let in, and he saw the pilot had already started having his cocktails. Oh, my storyteller would soon share me how this pilot would soon be penetrating him several times that night. They would share the whole evening together and parted ways the next day when the pilot had to be flying out of Manila.

I was fancying about this recollection of a story I heard many years ago mainly because I had been seeing numerous retired professional pilots on TV lately because they're being interviewed to share their thoughts out because of the missing Malaysian Airlines airplane. It's my fervent wish and hope that the plane would soon be found out somewhere out there in the waters that cover over 70% of this planet where we do all sorts of things that we can ever imagine during our respective lifetimes.

That Pedestrian Bridge Connecting the Chinese General Hospital and the College of Nursing

My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
These encounters took place so many years ago that I am struggling to recall and share more vividly a lot of the details I still have in stock memory about them. I would continue to wonder why I recall the encounters once in a while, even if I'm already based in a faraway country from where they originally took place. And I still get snatches of the freshness of the encounters in my mind when I ponder on the best scenes from my intimate experiences, especially when I'm just by myself. The memory of making it with some fellows who happened to be around during those nights when I decided I'd like to cruise somewhere near the Manila North Cemetery still comes into shore as if they just happened yesterday. The memory would usually start with what I had observed from some distance. I had seen many times from my seat in a moving vehicle the street where we were passing by had men who would be running to and fro from the cemetery. They're moving as quickly as they could from something scary and what was similar to what happened to me many times when I used to cruise in the Intramuros Walls. 

Just right in front of the main entrance of this well known cemetery in the Philippine capital, you'll see a nondescript single story building that you could easily guess to be a public restroom. I would assume that this public restroom (which in the USA is called a 'bathoom') was built only as an afterthought and without due regard to design, as it looked so  incongruous as it stands between the wrought iron gates of the cemetery and the pedestrian bridge. I recall that a deep canal flows next to where this restroom stands. But nobody among the regular folks would venture to go there just to pee. And during those years when I used to pass by this area, this building stands almost under the pedestrian bridge and next to the Chinese General Hospital. I'm not sure if it's still there.

I noticed that pedestrian bridge was barely used, which was confounding to me. Or I must had been mistaken by my biases over seeing growing colonies of squatters who live full time within and among the tombs inside the cemetery. These residents could just be using these structures to relieve themselves when they happened to be nearby and had to go. But I would soon discover that it was used by generations of cruisers, including myself who was around for a few times in the late evenings many years ago. One time I walked up the concrete stairs of the pedestrian bridge, which was totally filthy and in a state of disrepair, I remember having made it out with a young man who was thin, goodlooking, with strong solid facial features and who showed up suddenly from nowhere that rainy night. I even brought with me an umbrella. Upon seeing me, he would right away bring down his pants to his knees and allow me to approach him and give him head until he came. And we didn't have the chance to talk, except for a few instructions from him on how I should work on him while we were together. We were both young, so restless and so full of sexual energy that we were then learning to manage (probably no one among our networks would be willing to instruct us on how to manage these energies oozing from our young bodies) to meet our needs and wants.

As I would soon discover, the public bathroom right under the pedestrian bridge was also known to have been a tryst used by a lot of men who just wanted to have some adventure, a little bit of privacy, and quickly come or just watch other men jerking themselves until they come. Inside, it was reeking with urine smell, dried and fresh feces and other unimaginable dirt. But you'd make up faces of men as your eyes have been exposed to the dark after a while when inside; you would soon figure out that these men had been doing something more. I recall having met another young man there, who was probably of the same age as mine then. We grappled at each other's bodies as soon as we found each other in the dark space. But the strong stench of the place probably got into him so that he decided to invite me to his place, which he said was nearby. We'd walked a few blocks, and I recall the place was close to the Dimasalang Bridge. It was past 3am then, and I noticed all the silent and dark houses whose residents were in deep slumber. The streets were all lighted, and I would quickly recall in mind some movie scenes showing such typical streets in Manila. We stopped before a single family house that has a passenger jeepney standing on its front. 

Inside the jeepney, I saw a man sleeping and heard him softly snoring. My companion volunteered to tell me the guy's their driver; his family has a jeepney for business, apparently. We moved and walked along the side on an unlighted short alleyway that leads to the front door of the house. It was dark, and he stopped just in front of the door. In an instant, we started kissing and hugging each other as we continued with undressing each other. Our shirts were off, then followed by our pants, and our underpants. We just continued kissing, hugging, cuddling, and moaning. 

I could see that the door might be opened by anyone from inside the house. But who would think somebody might do that at such an unholy hour? We silently proceeded to suck each other's cocks. We were soon coming on each other's laps. It was over in 15 minutes or so, the prelude of which was started in that very dirty public restroom. I was glad I did come. I recall that good looking guy wanted us to meet again some time; I might have been given his phone number so that I could get in touch with him. I paid more attention to his good looks; he's a skin tone lighter than myself, which quality in the Philippines is generally given more premium when it comes to physical looks. We were similar in height, built and weight, plus with similar middle class social background (we were both in college then). I felt like I was being attracted to another version of myself as I continued observing him. He was friendly, I recall. And just like typical properly reared adolescents, we said thanks to each other. But I don't think I went out of my way to contact him again. I recall he had then been studying at the nearby University of Santo Tomas (known as Asia's oldest university). I was still then not sure if I wanted to be in touch with someone I surreptitiously had quick sex with. But I knew I totally enjoyed the brief encounter.

I never went back again to that tiny cruising ground in front of the Manila North Cemetery. I would just go back there mainly because I knew one of my brothers, in his very young age as a baby of around 7 days old, was buried there. Unfortunately, we couldn't locate his tomb anymore during the last time we were there during the traditional annual day of visit to honor the memory of the dead. The authorities must have placed his body with those others whose families or relatives have failed to pay the annual dues to the city government, which happens as a way to control the dead population being buried in that cemetery that has among its permanent residents the rich and famous of the Philippine state, and that has a grand collection of very elaborate, unique and awesome tomb structures (a must-see destination of any curious, open minded tourist in Manila). To this day, I'm still sorry our family never got the chance to keep and maintain my brother's tomb.

Open Relationships I've Kept, That Have Disappointed Me & Have Evolved in Time

My first book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 
This accounts to the best of my recollection some of the details of a journey, among many, I had in this relationship that I supposed was an open relationship in most of its angles, and has been a loving, mutually respectful one at that. And I had this with someone whom I've considered to be a good friend and whom I've met the first time after he called me to come over to his place to give him a whole body massage, of the more sexual variety because something like it always happens in these kinds of transactions (with certain exceptions) when I still used to actively do massages (a set of skills I learned hands-on from having massaged at least 100 men when I was still attending men's nude massage events in Manhattan years ago), as a practical way to make ends meet during my first few years in New York City (NYC). Consider it, also, that a lot of the memories I have managed to recall and shared here could have been partly erroneous by the time I've managed to write them down here. Readers should beware, including those who may think they're cited here one way or another.

This friend responded to my postings then on Craigslist.org where I would offer my massage services as one of the viable ways to make a living by choosing deliberately not to do full time jobs and after I've stopped looking for job opportunities actively. Of course, these first few meetings between my friend and myself were far from the ideal and readers would normally have not-so-pleasing thoughts about such transactions and activities that happen all the time in a very normal business manner in major and big cities like NYC. The service I would provide him would end up with happy endings, and with him telling me and directing me even one time to just do what I wanted to do (most probably so that I could have fun as well and not merely doing some paid service). And I would always remember him because I like the way he looks, being tall, hairy and lean, and even if he's not at all a looker if compared with the most physically good-looking guys I've met and seen here in NYC todate. In this special case, the looks would have not mattered at all. It's been his interesting character that's always curious for something about knowing more of other cultures.

During one of those conversations as we went about the usual procedures during these massage sessions, I also remember that he would open up about his failed relationship with another Filipino guy whom he has met and fallen in love with when they were still much younger (I'm assuming here that he has really fallen deeply in love with that guy, which I could not confirm first hand because I never had the chance to meet with that guy). Eventually, as we became lovers as well, I would actually tease him about this other Filipino guy that "he is your other lover." At the risk of revealing very private information that does not necessarily have to be shared unwittingly to others but should remain extremely private, I'm still taking the chance to share them here. And in the process of doing so, enable myself to move on from these sets of memories I have on loving, sad, fulfilling and devastating experiences I had shared with this interesting fellow. Also, the point of sharing this story is for myself to continue learning from those experiences and become a better person in the process, if I happened to find myself in similar situations. I know I'll keep on loving as long as I am living, and I'll be meeting so many other people who would find themselves in the same pathway as I am now. And I've taken the opportunity to share these recollections here as I don't have any idea if something like this will ever happen to me again.

After those massage calls that would happen every now and then, I would come and meet again this fellow in a gathering of a group in one of those rooms at the LGBT Center in Manhattan. Doing some kind of a volunteer service to the group, he was then out of job, after having been fired from his job where he probably stayed for many years. When I approached him, he certainly would give me a nice smile, with bright and curious eyes, and remember me. And we would start dating constantly after that meeting where we made sure we exchanged contact numbers. I remember I gave him my business card, and I would see that businesscard on his dining table the next time I was invited to his place. In the following meetings, we would meet up in coffeeshops and at the LGBT Center, and would often end up in his apartment and in engaging in the most physical and intimate activities we could do with each other. I would figure out how to deal with him as a lover, considering that I still have a long term relationship with a partner based in the Philippines, which relationship's been in the hanging situation mainly because he won't consider moving here in the USA. The meetings my friend and I had were really most pleasurable as far I was concerned ---I do hope he enjoyed himself that much, too. And I would recall how those sexual encounters that took place between us would stop eventually for some uncertain reasons that would confound me for some time. And still, I persisted in keeping a space for him in my heart, mainly because I like him really as a person.

Except on certain occasions during this open relationship that must have lasted for nearly two years or so, our conversations have always been mostly fun, mostly honest, engaging and very interesting. I think I made the terrible mistake of having not clarified nor talked with him about my understanding that we were having an open relationship, a sort of a no-strings-attached set-up. In fact, I would remember the many times that he had to remind me that I had been keeping him too long on the phone as I would usually be motivated to just tell him whatever was coming out my mind, details on whatever was happening in my life, whenever we engage in phone talks. Both of us being essentially well-read, outgoing and always curious, we would cover a range of topics, including politics, travel, cultures, business, finance, relationships, sex, among others. I would even tell one very good friend of mine that this fellow has remained being very interesting to me essentially because we could talk and cover a lot of topics in our conversations.

And my ex-lover said once in one of those earliest meetings we had after we saw each other at the LGBT Center: "I have to learn to invite you to come over to my place, or else nothing else will really happen at all," as he would take the risk of inviting me over to his place, and gain the confidence by practicing what other experts have been advising others when it comes to dating and meeting new people. He must have realized sooner or later that he has to learn so much from developing relationships himself so that he'd grow as a person. That also means he's realizing, just like me one time or another, that anything worthy has to be asked for and it won't come to you at all unless it's being asked to come for you to grab, hold or keep. From this meeting on, I would learn to start accepting him as he really was as a person then and someone I've come to know better for a few years as of this writing. Just like me, I've learned that he's really a complex guy as I would go out of my way to appreciate and accept someone who's trying to make a significant living here in NYC, where you could easily meet anyone anytime just like having pleasant-to-look-at eye-candies before so many storefronts all over the city.

Among other interests he's got and been actively pursuing, he's a devoted nudist, which didn't really matter to me personally. I would also learn he's also not that keen to work harder than needed as he has other personal interests to pursue; he probably would like to keep his energy intact for other activities than doing the work that he needs to do today on a 9-5 work schedule and typical among full time job holders. I'd learned from him and would be reminded constantly that a job serves a certain practical purpose from the way he would tell me that he'd 'regretfully' go to work the next day. I would usually disagree with him on this approach but would soon accept it as his way of dealing with the nature and value of work in a society like that found in the East Coast of the USA. I usually won't look at my paid jobs in the manner that he looks at his job, as I've seen having jobs as an important ingredient in accomplishing the goals I've set in my life. Paid work has to be seen something fulfilling and sacred if you will, with the way I look at it after having done many years of Human Resources related work. He's got that very practical outlook when it comes to doing jobs, which I must have soon acquired as I've continued looking at how I make a living here in NYC. Nothing really personal exists when it comes to dealing with jobs for most people here in NYC, not even sentimental notions. You're just taken as a cog so that the complex economic processes of supply and demand would continue moving forward and be constantly oiled to meet the needs and wants of those who are in and around the market.

A few months after we met, he finally got a job, which he took as he saw it as his chance again to do paid work. I would remember his anxiety over accepting this job with a European-owned company somewhere in Wall Street. He was complaining that he had to acquiesce to a big pay cut so that he could get a paid job soonest. Looking at him seated on his dining chair, I saw him being really anxious as he continued to explain his situation to me, which I would have not done to anybody close to me as such, as such level of anxiety I had seen often during job interviews during my career doing Human Resources work.

He would not last long in that job mainly because he was not getting paid that well according to his standards and was doing a job that he didn't really care much about. Also, he's getting anxious over not being able to earn well the way he used to have, which situation can always be difficult to most about anyone. But I would always remember him as one of those who's able to save and invest his earnings, which I would admire about him. He confidently told me that can manage to live off from the earnings of his investments even for a year or so of being unemployed. And that's one of the things that makes him a very desirable, prospective long term partner, which I do hope I can always emulate, become one and do much better in my own terms. Of course, I didn't see any actual figures on these incomes he's been paid for. But I've seen how he's bought and invested in an apartment in Queens, how he has kept a nice car, and how he leads the life he wants to pursue. I would take time to encourage him in his life situation then and be supportive of his efforts, which I hope he recognized. He would be moving to another job as soon as he got the next better chance to do so, which I know has made him a lot happier as a person.

Without me telling too many unwanted details here other than those I've already accounted so far, I would hear bad things from him about how he thought of me during one occasion. He would soon realize that I was in a much more poorer economic condition than he was; I would remember him telling me a lot of very revealing thoughts he had of me one time we met at the Grand Central Station with him being so drunk after a meeting with one of his friends and one of those weekend events he loved going to. I don't know nor remember if he let me bring him to his apartment that night. But I would tell him the next day that I heard certain things from him that I would rather not learn about from him, and he must have realized what he had done and would apologize to me in his usual kind, sincere manner. I've forgiven him for the slurs. But in the course of the relationship, I gradually realized how he really values the role of money in leading the kind of life you desire for yourself and in being able to earn a living in a more regular way that most people around would continue doing in a much changed world in this part of the USA.

I could have taken those points seriously to heart and learned to realize sooner that he would really have a hard time understanding and appreciating my efforts to lead a more creative and entrepreneurial life. But, apparently, I haven't and was foolish enough to consider being in what I figured out to be a loving relationship with him. And that's mainly because he has other wonderful qualities as a person. In having worked full time in the corporate world doing mainly Human Resources work that entails keeping so many critical information confidential, I'd learn to keep most things about my finances to myself and would never tell him much about how I make a living here in NYC, mainly because I know those details would bother him especially if they're not really positive as he would expect them to be. I think he has strong and well founded ideas about how I had been coping with daily in my own life but he won't go out of his way to ask me about them. I now realize that the effects of that approach I took could have been one of those strong reasons why he would eventually lose interest in pursuing a long-term, a more significant relationship with me, or in working together with me to bring the relationship on a higher level.

The relationship, without myself clarifying details to more appropriately describe it (as they would be very revealing and would unnecessarily bring about bad memories to all parties concerned here), was open in so many ways than one, without us talking and agreeing about it. I know he would go to nude events anywhere in the city; he was open to the idea of myself attending such events but I chose not to do so. Those events are not at all cheap and he told me nothing explicitly sexual happens there, which I will have to probably verify one of these days. I like to believe these meetings involving naked men are not even erotic. It's one of those meet ups where guys could relate with each other without their usual clothes on, and I can imagine such events can be mentally and emotionally liberating. I think what he said to me was true because I had another good friend who showed up one time in one of those regular events but he was asked not to come back again as he started having sex with someone, which prompted others to join them and be engaged in group sex.

I would also learn that my ex-lover would go to nudist camps by himself or with his friends. I didn't really think much about these events even if he told me one time that he'd fooled around with someone in one of those many occasions that he was in the camp, which almost always happen during the summer. And I know that he could have been getting in touch with other guys through Craigslist and would ask them to give him massages or something else for a fee. I would remember also that he told me once that I was actually "doing a good job providing massages," which I took more as a compliment than anything else. I would never know if he would tell our other common friends and acquaintances about the fact that we first met each other in a commercial massage-providing situation. And I know, just like what he knows very well about me when it comes to this common habit we share, that he watches porn whenever he's got the chance. I remember that he would have wanted both of us to video some of those sexual activities that we used to do together, but which I haven't have the motivation to agree and do so. The actual sex stopped soon even before I was ready to be inspired to allow myself to be pictured while engaged in sex. As such, given all these details, both of us can't really accuse each other of infidelity as such won't hold water and would make each of us look stupid and ridiculous.

We probably lost our common pathway together as lovers from the accumulation of setbacks and disappointments that we would experience during times when we were together and during periods when would not keep in touch with each other. Among many other issues, I think I'm guilty of having failed to keep regular contact with him, which he must have taken badly especially during a conversation with another friend where I blurted out that I "don't really go out of my way to call people because I'm usually busy." I realize that he has been trying to understand and know me better but those occasions where he could gather more significant facts about me would happen during meetings and conversations with other friends around. I would not really know if he was actively looking for ways for us to be together more often because I never asked to be clarified about such issues with him. He probably thought and have felt I was taking him for granted. I probably have given him the wrong impression that he could freely do his own thing, pursue his life and basically leave me alone with my life, and for both of us to just go about with the open relationship that we were having. And that we would continue until something more significant takes place along the way, which would eventually do.

I know he told me months before I finally understood that I've lost him after he said something about that regular dating he's been having with another guy, which I would learn from him over the phone. Now I would recall a number of phonetalks that we had that I should have paid more attention to but I miserably ignored and failed. I heard him tell me about how he's getting scared listening to what that other guy was telling him about their growing relationship, which to him sounded very serious. And I just kept mum about a lot of things I had in mind during that particular talk and I actually ignored much of it. I was thinking I still have him as a lover, mainly because of the open relationship set up we had (which, again, we didn't really talk and agree about; I would just understand the relationship as such). And I was thinking it's one of those things that normally happen between lovers or probably I was then being concerned at the back of my mind about so many other priorities in my list.

One Saturday, I would join him and another friend at the Eagle's Bar in Manhattan. He has told me about the bar before in one of our phone conversations; I had been there one time during some Folsom-related events in the East Coast. He even told me about how he was there one time wearing his leather harness, probably cruising around, but he got so drunk and was soon disappointed the next day over how he behaved himself. During that Saturday when we were there, we were fooling with and around others who were roaming and walking in the enclosed cruising area. But later in the evening, I remember feeling his hands touching me in ways I recognized were tender, foolish, loving and caressing, which were exactly want I needed from him and I knew he has always known of my desires because I've always told him about those thoughts every time we were in bed together. We would also kiss each other on the lips, but I would remember they were somewhat different from the kissing situations we've had before. He wasn't really massaging me at all at those parts where his hands landed on the back of my body. Gleefully, I felt we were flirting again with each other, which we have not done so for some time then. He would do that at least 4 times during that night. I took those signs as if he's inviting me again to come to his bed again and enjoy ourselves together, but which I never had the chance to tell him personally. I recall he was also drunk then, which was the same case with me. We would never talk about it in the succeeding meetings we had. And I would be having difficulties recovering from the pleasure of recollecting how I had enjoyed the wonderful, positive feelings during that night, even if I was drunk myself. I would remember them precisely because I felt so good and was wondering about their significance to myself, and was always trying to drown myself from my life pains by imbibing in alcohol. I also remember the many times when my ex-lover and I would talk on the phone about times when we were away from each other and would get drunk with others. He knew I would get drunk especially when I would go out with friends who would invite me over to their places. And he would reveal to me as well those times when he would get drunk himself. I have failed to realize how lonely our respective lives must have been, even if we would continue being with others.

Gradually, I have been realizing a lot of truths and untruths about this failed relationship I had with this ex-lover who I like to believe will remain to be one of my best friends for the rest of my life, even if he made me feel so devastated one time. I would go on many hours when I was up and about and doing a lot of thinking about what went wrong that had led to the termination of the relationship. Of course, the main reason was that he had been dating someone regularly for the past months so there's really no point in keeping my presence around him whenever he's in search for something that he believes his current lover could provide him. I can only wish for the best for both of them. In the meantime, I've continued to move on with my life and its so many wonderful possibilities.

He's got in own brand of sweetness and so many acts of kindness that he's displayed to me often times, and which I must have ignored and have taken for granted for the most part (because I was so serious with my own concerns in life). He would give me a birthday card on my birthday the first year we were together, and which surprised me so much as he inscribed it in his unique, personal way. He would probably say giving a birthday card is really much at all. He would remind me to constantly be safe in our practices especially when it comes to doing anal positions while in bed together. He would buy my book without me asking him to get a copy for himself, and he would find time to read it, which he could have spent on his other interests. And he would even give me the favor of writing a brief review on it on Amazon.com; I'm actually very surprised but very grateful that he has done all these bothersome, time consuming tasks for me. Among many other things he has done for me, he would also offer his help every time I tell him about some projects I'm working on. He would even offer to drive his car and make use of it to move stuff I've been accumulating in my place. During those periods when I would still get to sleep over in his place, he would bother to get up and provide for coffee, orange juice or some other food items that I could have before I go out of his place and venture to complete my activities for the day. He would even bother to collect books he'd seen being thrown away by other tenants in his apartment building; he would give me the books he's decided he'd like to get rid off. He'd even keep and give me copies of magazines that I told him would still get sold through the online storefronts that I've been growing and making very good business from.

He would even invite me to join him in his nude events out of town, which I would not bother to accept mainly because I couldn't afford them or I was doing some part-time jobs. He would even find ways to watch plays and stage shows with me because he understood that I like watching those types of shows; I would remember watching at least 3 live shows with him in different locations in the city. He would also consider doing dancing with me as soon as I got myself active in square dancing, which he thought he could also do. He would introduce me to several of his friends, which efforts on his part I have come to really appreciate. During an outdoor trip, he would even tell me that I should have kept him up by waking him up during that very cold night when I was unable to sleep due to the seething freezing conditions inside that tent and because I was stupid enough not to bring my own sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of New Jersey. He would even join me in watching the annual Ms. Universe Pageant shows on TV with other friends for two years on a row; I could see that he was really enjoying himself being with me during these occasions. I would really appreciate the wonderful feelings he made me feel during the period when we're together more as lovers than friends.

I've come to realize, too, that he could have considered getting into a regular dating set-up with me mainly because I'm also a Filipino like that guy whom he has fallen in love with for so long. Most likely, he would fall for that guy with such intensity that he would even visit the Philippines at least twice with him. I would recall how he would share me some details about that other Filipino guy during sessions when I would show up to give him massages. But the relationship between them probably went cold again and I like to believe that they have not been in touch again for some period of time as of this writing. Who would really know? I don't think it's my business to ask about details on their relationship, which is the same attitude I have about my ex-lover's current and constant date and companion these days. It's really out of my business, and I won't be asking for those details at all unless he opens up about those things with me one of these days.

I'm grateful for his candidness toward me when I asked him during that phone talk about why he won't invite me anymore to come over and for us to be intimate again. He would tell me that he's been dating someone regularly and so there would be no need for him to invite me. I was taken aback somewhat and would linger for some time in the hurt feelings I had upon hearing those words. He was in a way telling me in his own way that I no longer was good enough for him, such that he won't even consider getting both of us on a date and probably do something more intimate together. I would begin to understand why he won't respond as much as I wanted him to be interested in me whenever I would tell him that I've been missing him (he would say one time that it's because we've not been seeing each other as we used to do just like months before). I tried to redirect the intensity of the feelings I had upon hearing from him as he would tell me those words by making use of what I thought about the annoying feelings I was having over the Mainstream Plus Dance lessons we were both into earlier that particular night. He's not really into me anymore, and that's going to be the case until the next time we both decide that we could go on dating and becoming intimate with each other again on some other occasion. Who would really know?

And I would always cherish his presence in my life especially because he made me believe that I could go back to falling in love again and being comfortable with the thought, after having been away from something similar with someone who's decided he can't be following me here in the USA. I had a rather similar experience when another friend and I were in an intimate, a-sort-of-an-open relationship until this particular fellow committed suicide; his sudden, unexpected death totally knocked me out of my usual happy wits and well established beliefs about the value of preserving one's life as long as possible. But with this particular ex-lover, I had experienced being bluntly turned away, the effects of which I had to deal with shamefacedly in the next few instances that we would meet again as we were going to some common events with other friends. He would still treat me in his own sweet way but I knew he'd been relieved to have finally got rid of me, at least in more affectionate and intimate terms. This ex-lover probably would still remember that I have this relationship that is technically more on hold than real all these past years that I've been here in NYC. Don is still in the Philippines and I doubt if he would ever consider getting a US visa so he could visit me here. I have a feeling that we'll get to see each other again as soon as I decide to visit the Philippines. The relationship between Don and myself has not been moving forward and is frozen somewhere in the frigid clouds up in the atmosphere as we're physically separated by thousands of miles in distance.

I like to believe that this ex-lover of mine took the effort to accept me as to who I was then and must have over-extended himself in the process after getting to know me better in time. I wasn't turning into someone he wanted me to be, in so many ways than one. And I believe he's always known about those things I get into myself every time I meet out with people, as I'm basically happy when I'm with other people. He couldn't confront me about them mainly because he, probably, would prefer not to know about them, unless I volunteer to tell him about them. He's told me "it's really up to you, Jerome" when I was asking me him if he wanted to know about those people I've been involved with. I would realize that he would turn out to be not bothered at all by my getting intimately involved with others by the time we had that very significant phone talk. He must have had his fill of me when we were still together as lovers. I just wonder but still am excited now on how we'll go about being very good friends together in the long term, if we get to something like that in time. Let's see how the directions of life will lead us to. Let's all move on now.

Encounter In a Second Rate Movie Theater In What Used to be BB in Valenzuela City, Bulacan, Philippines

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I will always have a special fondness for the memory of someone I met one time in a second rate movie theater somewhere in Bulacan. It's a place called 'BB', which I believe stands for the expansive 'Beer Brewery' buildings of San Miguel Corporation in the area, and I recall the place was just a jeepney ride away from Monumento in Kalookan City. I don't remember who introduced me to the place, but I'll probably be able to do so if I continue remembering the faces of those friends I met many, many years ago.

The movie theater, which was mainly wooden in its structure and design on its exteriors, and complete with mostly wooden theatre seats, would have served the community theater at a much earlier time when people would still go in droves to theaters to watch the latest or at least the more newer big screen movies. It's a testament to the brave entrepreneurial efforts of business persons who had the resources, the sense of civics, and the desire to make money by meeting the needs of the community. But in time, it has become run-down, kept un-maintained in its now-(then)-cheap looking appearance, and people, mostly menfolk, would show up and watch second-rate movies making the rounds of the marketing aspects of the cinematic business network in the provinces. But BB wasn't really provincial in atmosphere as it's close to Kalookan city, one of the cities making up the National Capital Region. And the theater's reputation would unwittingly spread and be known to the city-living gay folks (unless I'm mistaken with what I've seen so far, lesbians have not been known in any way to do this kind of very public cruising inside theaters)  and their many varied supporters who always had to find means to relieve themselves of their urges and other physical needs but away from the curious behaviors of the members of the more regular crowds that continue to confound businesses and marketers. As such, the daring and brave would show up in the theater anytime from noontime to at least 10pm in the evenings of the whole week to watch movies as well as to get some pleasure, briefly or more longer in duration, by cruising.

By the time I have managed to show up in this theater in my early adolescent years, I would soon realize the theater's patrons have established implied rules and regulations while being in the theater. Men would be then walking most of the period while inside the theater. And men would wait for other men to sit next to them, open their fly and do what's expected between men who knew what they wanted and knew how to exactly get it with such temerity and shamelessness. You can cruise and be cruised around by other patrons, and it's really up to you if you like to join and have brief fun that lasts as soon as one comes literally and figuratively. I believe most would agree with other regular patrons that most of best daring public sexual live scenes between men (it's inside a movie theater where people would still gather) have taken place inside this theater, and such scenes have had been happening also in many similar theaters all over the Philippine archipelago. The director Brillante Mendoza's film 'Serbis' was able to catch and put on film some of those usual stuff that happen inside theaters like this one I've been describing here. But I know and would remember that not a lot of prostitution transactions happen in this theater---you don't really need to pay someone to work on you or for someone you'd like to work on. It's all out there for the grabbing and taking, using the tools you've learned as you were growing up and socializing with other people. If you're friendly enough, you'll always end up meeting with another one or more who are also friendly like yourself. I would learn and hear about  similar observations from other people I've met here in New York City where I am based now, and where the city still has a number of theaters where men would come and gather and have sex with those who attract them and those they find attractive.

In one of those encounters, I managed to be with one medium built light skinned fellow who was wearing shorts, eyeglasses, and some kind of a white undershirt. He could very well had been half Chinese but his eyes didn't show the typical slits in their edges. It's the appropriate outfit when you venture outside and come inside this kind of theater as it's hot, dark, and dingy when your eyes adjust to a different world covered by the theater walls. He appeared to look clean and neat to me, and still very young just like myself then, most probably in our early twenties. I remember he wore flipflops, and it's obvious he lives in the area. I would remember now that I would never encounter him again; if we did actually meet again in another time, he surely had evolved in looks into someone else I would most probably fail to recognize. But during that only encounter, he was one of the most pleasant, nerdy looking, youthful looking young man. We were soon chatting a bit, the details of which I won't be able to recollect now. Up in the balcony, everything is dark, except inside the two bathrooms that stand next to each other where lights are on and I remember the windows open to the scenes below including passersby, residents and visitors in that very commercial part of that small city. You could hear the cacophony of sounds being made by the tricycles moving to and fro their regular whereabouts in the streets of this city. While up in the theater, a lot of very strange and sexual events had been ongoing and taking place all day long.

With both of us still being youthful, we took chances to overcome whatever was bothering us and take chances with each other while others were actually cruising after us, even just for this only moment, which I believe won't even happen if I happened to meet him in the more regular events in our regular, respective lives. He led me to the ladies' bathroom, and inside, he made sure it was locked so we could do exactly what we wanted from and with each other.

I remember his eyeglasses getting wet from the profuse sweat his face would expire as we worked on each other's bodies longingly and most passionately as we could managed. We took turns putting each other's cocks in our respective mouths. By the time we were together inside that bathroom, we definitely knew what we wanted from each other, and there was no need to do more tutoring and get surprised about relatively newer sexual acts that our minds had been pondering on before going out to meet and fool around with other guys. I would remember the heat of those very moments: very hot, and I would probably was soon running a fever! I would hear some other guys trying to get themselves inside the bathroom and would be knocking as if they had to use it for their own private actions I rather not share here. Or they probably wanted to watch us engaged in those acts. In our private quarters during those brief moments, our tight hugs and pouring bodily sweats continued to be exchanged between ourselves, and I would soon feel relieved. I remember he was not circumcised, which is rather unusual for young men of that age. He's really sexy, I will have to add, though. And I had the time of my young life, then. And this particular encounter is probably one of the reasons why I kept on taking my chances by going there often in the hope that I would still see him again. I know he won't refuse me in case that would happen again---but such an opportunity never came again.

And I would be meeting other men of different ages and body builds in this same theater for the next few years that I had managed to be around in this area, in a city that would soon become part of the Philippine National Capital Region. I would be there once or twice on other non-sexual occasions because one of my good college classmates live there; she's already married and with a family and they're still in that city. I would often wonder if the theater has survived to this date the very fast rate of developments that would soon envelop and uncover in that city.

3. The Beginning Encounters

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Index:
A guy in fresh denims
A former college athletic (soccer) scholar
An uptight and not-so-truthful fellow

“…there are places we all come from – deep-rooty-common places – that make us who we are. And we disdain them or treat them lightly at our peril. We turn our bakcs on them at the risk of self-contempt. There is a sense in which we need to go home again – and can go home again. Not to recover home, no. But to sanctify memory.”
Robert Fulghum

I fail to recall whoever might have been the first person I casually had sex with at the Walls. Whoever he was, he certainly might have relieved himself, illicitly, with much hurried yet strange sense of physical pleasure. The same experience happened with me.

I remember someone wearing brand new denims I met just outside the Walls facing Lyceum near the underpass, very near the Revellin del Parian. It was past 11 PM and there were many others cruising. Also, there were many who were just passing by, I guess. I felt the urge to really be able to make it soon, as I needed to be home soon. This one just jutted out of nowhere while I was studying the numerous vehicles passing by where I positioned myself. The streetlights beyond somehow supported to cast an eerie combination of dirt, bodily longing, and darkness. Streetlights were off then that night, particularly in that circle where I placed myself.

The Walls stood at the distance. I happened to pass by this friendly stranger. I saw an athletic man with a fresh short haircut wearing a clean white round neck shirt. Looking more like a college student than myself who was then in college, I realize I was meeting someone very relishing that night. The urge surged itself - rushing like very strong waterfalls - beyond proportions in my mind. Knowingly, I acknowledged my attraction to this man who sent the proper signals.

“Dito tayo, gawin mo sa akin, gagawin ko rin sa ‘yo! (We're safe here...do it to me,.....and i'll do it you after you're done with me!)” as he approached me after we studied each other in barely three minutes.

I understood soon that we had to do it beside the dark portion of the underpass, near the bushes where curious passersby could easily see us. Cars continue passing by from Divisoria and Binondo. The man looked like he has just bought a fresh pair of denims, which fitted his size proportionately well. The smell of fresh, new denims just couldn’t get over me – such that I recall the night as well as the person todate with the same urgent desire to relieve myself. I zippered down his pants and proceeded to partake of the flesh before me, which looked meaty enough. His warm body just couldn’t cope with my hands as I submitted myself to his yearnings. Suddenly, the smell of the whole place brought forth memories of those whom I have met earlier. Tensely, I worked on whatever I could handle until he was over. I remember I was glad he did reciprocate my act. He did particularly well as I guided him to what really excited me then. Soon, we were both finished in 12 minutes. I never had the chance to ask anything of his identity. I just recall the freshness of it all, which todate I particularly remember. I have never met him again.

I knew I wanted more yet I couldn’t recall if I still went on cruising that night. Yet evenings like these became common for the past years. Such past evenings – the mixed pungent, salty and musky smell of which repeated even after our family has overcome the collective weariness of the thought of Mother’s near-total disability in Jordan – continue to unfold everytime I decide I have to get over myself. Mother and I have recently been able to talk on the near traumatic family event. I was just prayerful with many thanks most times. She has yet to be informed on the indirect result that her near death abroad has brought to me.

These days, there are nights when I have felt I needed divine intervention just as to be able to make it through the night. Nights when my longings just get as confused as my imaginings. Stoically, I have braved it out there in the Walls, or at times, just about anywhere. Nevertheless, I have realized that in the Walls, as in the other cruising grounds, there, indeed, are really many numbers of men who have been also in search just like me. We collectively search continuously for relatively freer grounds to just be ourselves, without the cloth of deception, practically to anyone. We search for the need to be accepted in our own terms, without the dangers and annoyances of disbelief, disgust, and bigotry, both on the surface and underneath the various levels in our society.

In retrospect, I have never been able to completely identify what I really wanted in the first place. Nor even come up with a fragment of the definitive meaning on what I have been doing. Nevertheless, I have partaken much, for which I have been thankful of what has been presented to me in return. I just want to tell my “stories” in their integral chapters that may at times will have no endings, just those others out there whose stories beg to be narrated (so to say), and be affirmed as good, honest persons with integrity in the process. Though, of course, this wanting “to tell stories” will have consequences forthcoming as well in the process.
* * * * * * *

Another among my earliest encounters has been this one with a former college athletic (soccer) scholar of Adamson University. Given my efforts in recollecting details about this guy, I guess, he must have asked me to do things on him, which I thought to be rather puking then.

I remember this guy, who must have been in his early thirties’ then, have been working in the warehouse section of a multinational pharmaceutical firm in Makati. He thought of cruising near along Manila Hotel one of those earliest evenings that I decided to cruise in the Walls. Very much naïve then, I realized I must have shown him signals that he thought could be very well be the hallmarks of someone in cruising. He was married with a child, and his wife then was visiting her parents in the province. He must have had felt the urge so much so that instead of proceeding to go to their house in Pasay City, he thought of cruising it actively out in the Walls.

He must have been one of the first of batches of men whom I have agreed to spend a night with in a motel somewhere in Sta Cruz. He got pretty disappointed, actually, when we were already in bed. I never wanted, then, to work on him orally. He kept on pleading on me to work on him practically the whole night.

“Yun dati kong roommate, minsan pinakelaman nya ako. Mula sa kama nya, ginapang nya ako, eh, marami kami sa kwarto noon. Natuwa yata sa nangyari sa amin. Nasarapan naman ako. Naulit pa iyon, hanggang sa naging madalas. Natapos lang nung grumaduate na kami (I had a former roommate who once fondled me one night. From his bed, he crawled slowly to get into mine, which was very daring of him, as there were others who were soundly sleeping that night in that same room. He must have extremely enjoyed himself that first night. I actually relish the experience myself, just like very good food. We did it again, until it became routine. We just parted ways when we graduated from college)” as he related one of his more significant physical and erotic encounters with men.

Back then, I was pretty much disgusted by engaging in such acts, although he was very much pretty well hung with a muscular body to boot, given that he’s only in his mid early 30s then. Just like the rest of us, I have had my share of sexual hang-ups, and quite unsure of what I like to engage and share in bed. I remember the two of us in that motel room just having our naked bodies pressed tightly together while in bed – the whole night. I remember him walking in the room naked, to show me his disappointment, while the lights were on, I saw how well built his body has been.

“Kung yung iba ang nandito ngayon, kanina pa ako nakaraos (If there was someone else with me here in this bed, I would have come by now)” I recall him remarking at me.

I remember having taken much rein in my urges then to simply do to him those activities from which I have gained much confidence to engage much, much graphically, sexually later on. I guess, we need to be guided step by step just as to fully enable ourselves to confidently engage in these sexual acts. These sets of behavior apparently do not come automatic especially when needed.
* * * * * * *

I met one certain fellow who could have easily turned out to be personification of dishonesty to one’s self. He was pretty confusing as soon as we got to agree that we were doing it that night.

Or I must have been very hard on him, as I try to comprehend his inconsistent behavior towards me. Although on second thought, admittedly, each one of us, in the whole place, has our individual bag of dishonesties, in trying to prevent others to see us in our bare, vulnerable selves, warts and all.

I made it with this man that night, thinking that I could have made it out with someone worthy, at the least, and gratifying at the most. A professional auditor, who works with Commission on Audit, he was rather edgy that night yet I could see through his eagerness, as he went out of his way to approach me at my seat at one of those concrete benches in the Walls.

Yet at the same time, he was rather uptight, like he couldn’t show his real self correctly to me. I just took everything as a learning process. He was rather tender and soft, and was rather uninhibited about kissing, hugging and all the works, which I found rather pretty exciting. I particularly recall exchanging such heated kisses with him, as I wondered how I got to land here as I tried to be as expressive as I could. I longed to have both of our bodied be tightly connected, at least physically for a few hours. Yet right after coming, I saw his face looking like in total disbelief and sorrow over what he had recently done, of the utter sinfulness of the whole act. His eyes showed the cowed displeasure he had after we come. Looking back, I realized I could see guilt-personified on his bright face. I remember his cute face, plus a nice naked, well-maintained body, as he shook me out the bed. I wondered why we weren’t joyously celebrating at all the blessing that we may have admitted, which normally we have, at least, after each coming. I couldn’t believe him as he showed me that face, with changing “characters” in a matter of second.

He made some sarcastic remarks, as were rushing to put on our clothes, like everything about our bodies are totally filthy beyond repair. I felt instantly like moving out as fast as I could, even like running the fastest run I could give away from the nightmare inside that cheap motel room. I thought I would be seeing no more of him, as I thought he was having grave difficulties accepting the other aspects of himself.

Yet, I saw this same guy again somewhere in a second run theatre, somewhere in Meycauayan, Bulacan. I saw him again in the deep recesses of another cheap theatre in Cubao. Both theatres are known todate to be cruising grounds for people like us, and those prostitutes hounding all of us, if given the chance. He still looks stoically cold, yet physically interesting person that challenges other cruisers. I supposed he must have been married by this time (I remember he told me his plans of getting married).

Soon, I’ve grown to realize I should be developing the expertise in recognizing the type. This type should be refused, at all costs, as he makes you go down the lower depths of possessing the ill traits a poorly developed self-confidence level. Negative vibes hound you after you have realized you have met the “type.”

Actually, every now and then, I particularly remember having met another similar fellow, of the similar variety, although belonging to the same species, who seems to merely finds enjoyments in the details of seducing guys who would get to think of him as someone with such a superb body, as he actually is physically……….yet there is the persistent disdain in his face, as one goes about working in him. The type simply makes me shake my head in disbelief.