6. More Engaging Figures

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"Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan photos"

Index:
The first male teller of FEBTC
The PE Instructor
My friend who’s a doctor
His wife is in Japan
A MIT college student
He does hotel front desk work
a member of the underground movement?
Nice hat
Someone chinese
Looking through the glass window of the Met Theatre
The perimeter steel fence
Waiting for the Bus Driver
Seeing a Renown Short-Film Director
The Dentist from LA
Just finished playing basketball

I must admit that by this time, I must have gained quite a number of experiences in engaging in casual sex with practically strangers. I recognize many others, even among straights, have the same set of experiences, with differences stemming mainly from the variety of partners we get to encounter. Too bad, my own set of experiences has to be mainly gained from these cruising activities. The whole process of engaging in casual sex has gone quite mechanical, rather, more procedural most of the time, as I’ve proceeded with this adventure. Others who may get to know this observation usually are flabbergasted, and they keep the notion of themselves being saved from such an existence. And they keep on being satisfied from learning vicariously from the others, like myself. Being mindful of these events, my feelings towards the act have grown very predictable in time, similar to what others may have when they often get drunk. And I persist, and attempt to find some kind of a meaning from all these. Just how I am going to do this, baffles me up to now, as I attempt to recall some more mindful events to be continuously described more closely in the following sections.

Also, at this point in time, details of some encounters will have to be deleted. These encounters have actually become so ordinary; I have felt that it’s not even worthwhile repeating the descriptions, as doing so will not serve the direction of this journal.

In shorts, and a short sleeve shirt, this next stranger whom I saw first in front of the Main Post Office (as it always happen, it seems) readily caught my attention as I was then already preparing myself on my way home. I thought of him as someone who much has had difficulty in sleeping that night. I figured out that it must have the heat that made him leave his bed, and come out here to be relieved of his longing, which I thought I could provide (as what was true with the others before him). We just decided to make it at the grounds outside the Main Post Office Extension, where he just easily took off his shorts in one second while he let me work on him. He turned out to be one of the first male bank tellers of a major universal bank’s branch in Escolta. Moreso, this event led to a few meetings wherein we got the chance to know each other better. The eldest child among three sons of a retired Army major, he told me he was in search for a prospective long-term partner. Opting to retire early from his long time bank employer, he then sought to establish himself in a trading business of local quality marble from the Visayas, but he explained his subsequent failure due to limited capital. He reminisced as he described his business of trading of quality marble as something that requires the handling of fragile food items, just like eggs. One broken slab, and there goes his profit, as he further described. Quitting this trading business, he has since then been working with a small firm engaged in escort and security services based in a southern city of Metro Manila from his residence in the northern end.

He gave me calls in the office. A few meetings followed and we never made it again, at least sexually. In our next meetings, I soon learned more about the crowd that he has, as well as the fact that he still helps out in sending his youngest brother to college. I could see that he is the typical fellow you get to meet in sing along bars, one of those in the crowd whose voice stands out. He even informed me about the few times that he got to be picked up by some other guys, one after the other, who have found him attractive, at least for the night. In retrospect, we could have turned out to be long-term partners, yet certain limitations cropped out. I simply couldn’t cope with the idea of limiting myself to only one partner on an exclusive basis. Perhaps, among others reasons, I haven’t really been quite honest in my need to settle in a long term partnership.
* * * * * * *

One cruising evening, I encountered a PE instructor of an exclusive boys’ school in Pasay City. He took one very serious look at me from head to foot, as if very surprised at seeing me in the place. Having decided by then that we could actually get together for something very exciting, I approached him to ask for someplace, which he may have in mind. He didn’t actually reply. I walked towards the Post Office, where I figured out that we may be safe even for some short minutes. He just followed me as I walked towards the left side of the humongous structure, which was then closed as expected, where the stairs lead towards the door where the many, many Post Office boxes are housed. In between the stairs, and the wall is located a space wide enough for even three couples. There is a wide window with stationary closed wooden panes with the light of a bright bulb coming out, creating horizontal lines on the object in front of the window. On one side, vehicles continue to lead fast towards and coming from Lawton / Pier. My partner and I opted to stand, just in the side of this window. He was very hesitant in making it with me in that seemingly dangerous yet very mind disturbing space. He stood there in front of me, not making any move at all. I thought, I might as well take the chance, as I recall I’ve seen couples in past evenings cavorting in the small space. But this time, I became very daring, as I opted to remove all my clothing as he watched me undress myself in front of him. I moved swiftly, as I feared someone’s coming anytime now, and I thought I heard a voice coming from the window. In a moment, he was out of himself already as he grabbed every inch of my bared skin that I gladly shared forward to him as I undress him at the same time. Fortunately, nobody got caught as we rushed through the works that evening. I can’t help ponder now in disbelief that we could have caught literally barefooted, and thus putting an end to all this instantaneously.

I saw the same guy after two weeks, perhaps at the crossing amidst a garden leading towards the underpass to Lawton and the Walls. The Andres Bonifacio Monument serves as a backdrop including the Main Post Office Building that flickers abnormally due to some error in the configuration of its lighting. That particular subsequent night, I was wearing glasses, and he simply couldn’t recognize me. I thought I might have looked different and unrecognizable by some. He thought I became smaller in bulk, than the first time we encountered each other. This night, thankfully, nothing happened. This just merely indicates how men who cruise try to maintain an idea of a preferred partner. Perhaps, everything seems to be just physical; it’s actually more of a gift that an encounter repeatedly described in this work may lead to something more stable and long term. Simply, this notion of trying to get more good, or benefit from what is basically physical is quite far from ever taking place when one often goes on cruising.
* * * * * * *

Friends really are found just about anywhere. One night after Christmas Day, I cruised in front of the National Museum. I remembered many people had been walking to and from the Luneta. At past 12 midnight, the place looked like it was 7 PM. I looked around, and walked round and round until I decided to seat near the Gomburza Monument. Frankly, and without any offense meant, the poor priests’ metallic statues have the typical silhouette of three men in an erotic act. The water in the encircling man made pond with inner steps around the monument kept on rippling – the mosquitoes and some other insects must have been busy that night swirling round and round while waiting for unknowing prospects to cheat on. While pondering on these details, a man whose small frame precedes his engaging presence soon approached me.

“Ang daming tao, walang mangyari tuloy sa akin…(Too many people....nothing's happening with me),” as he murmured to me and proceeded into a long conversation. We talked about the haunting loneliness of seasons like this. He described his loving family the previous day where they had a slide show of their family’s activities. Then, he talked about his efforts to put into video the family gathering.

“Bakit ka nandito? (Why have you been here?)” I first hesitantly refused to ask yet I blurted out eventually. I don’t remember his answer yet we suddenly recognized each other in our efforts to work on our own individual solitary confinements. He soon graduated from the premier medical school, got his license, and afterwhich went to the US where he now works and stays. Recently, we talked about his troubles of keeping two lovers at the same time at the same house. Situations, I told myself, which I recall have been very familiar when he was here as well. Actually, some other interesting developments have followed through as we try to communicate these days in cyberspace.
* * * * * * *

The Gomburza Monument witnessed productive evenings mutely every now and then. Once I met a man in blue bike with passenger sidecar. Sitting on one of the benches while I was studying my strategy for the night, I noticed him looking soulfully at me. Approaching me, we started to talk right away as he parked his bike beside the bench. In shorts, leather slippers and sandos, he looked like he had difficult time sleeping. I noticed he’s the untypical man in search.

“May misis ka na? (You got a wife?),” I asked.

Nodding, he said “Nasa Japan sya. Naiwan yung isang anak namin sa akin (She's in Japan. I'm the one taking care of our only child).”

Paying more close attention, “Saan ka nakatira? (Where are you staying?)”

“Sa may Tondo (Somewhere in Tondo),” as he slipped his palm inside my crotch.

“Kumustang baby mo? (How's your baby?)” I asked while helping him get hold of me.

“Nasa bahay, tulog na (I left him in the house; he's now asleep).”

“Si misis, kumusta? (What about your wife? How's she doing?)” I asked as I gladly allowed him to unzip my pants.
Taking the freedom to engulf what he could cope as he pulled down my shorts,

“Nagpapadala naman ng pera (I'm glad she still sends me money),” as he headed towards finishing his motions.

I stopped talking for a while.

“Dati kong di ginagawa ito. Nagkaroon lang ako ng barkadang bagets, marami sila, mula nang umalis si Misis. Palagi kaming gumagawa, humahanap ng happening. Nalasing kaming barkada minsan, tulad nang dati. Yung isa, dinala ako sa kwarto. Hinubaran nya ako, naghubad din sya. Tapos, pinasubo nya yung kanya. Ginawa ulit namin. Kaya pala panay ang himas nya sa akin, iba ang bagsak ng kamay nya sa akin kahit kami nasa barkada namin. Di na ako pumalag. (I didn't use to do this before. I got myself involved with really young people; there's a big number of them, since my wife left for Japan. We'd always be on the lookout for something, for something exciting. Once, everyone got so badly drunk, as usual. One of them led me to the room. He pulled down my pants; he also took off his pants. Then, he made me put his cock in my mouth. That first time led to another. Now I understand why. That was why he was always that gentle with me, the soft touch he'd give me, even when we're with our friends. I remember now, I didn't make things difficult for him).”
* * * * * * *

One of those nights cast its silvery shadow quite wonderfully when I met one college student near below the LRT Central Station. The space was open enough as it is the parking area for the nearby Metropolitan Theatre clients. Sounding crickety, the LRT repair train has been passing directly over our heads. Yet, we met each other as I recognized someone who was also in search. I guess he knew the place quite well. Wearing shorts, dark colored shirt, looking slim yet tall, he was aggressively passing himself off as he kept on touching his crotch. The bulged just couldn’t be ignored as I signaled him to approach me who was sitting near a tree.

“Saan ka galling? Mukhang okay ka, hush (Where did you come from? I think you're looking great!)…” as I soon pulled down his shorts to his knees.

“Sige, sige Lang…Ituloy tuloy mo…(Go, do what you gotta do!)” as I went on working on while grabbing anything that I could hold on to in the heat of the moment.

We were pretty oblivious to whoever might have been watching us or passing by. “Galing kami kanina sa swimming kasama yung barkada ko….Sa Los Banos…Dala ko pa nga ang gamit ko. Mas masaya ka siguro kung kasama ka kanina, okay rin yung mga kasama ko, (We just came from swimming with my friends. Somewhere in Los Banos.....I still have my bag with me. You would have been happier if you joined us; my friends are also OK),” smiling widely as he kept his shorts down in order for me to relish the whole scene longer.

He just couldn’t contain himself even after coming just a while earlier. Later, I found out he had a twin brother and was then studying to become an Engineer at Mapua inside the Intramuros. Looking back, this event signalled my foray beyond my usual excuse in cruising in the Walls.

That night never seemed to have been lodged in the deep recesses of my mind. I have been since then on the lookout, for something similar, for something more outrageous, and dangerous.
* * * * * * *

Mehan Garden used to be made up of varying profiles and silhouettes all evenings then. You get to find the oldest trees in the vicinity in this section. The Garden actually was a mere semblance of the famed Botanical Gardens, which perished during the Great War. Thankfully, Ming Ramos resurrected it recently in the early 90s by placing a well-tended garden in it through the pooled contributions of certain politicians and individuals. Moreso, a recent rendition of Andres Bonifacio’s monument now stands in front of the justice halls near Mehan Garden. It brings about a bright façade in the area where there used to be cruisers abounding. Many events took place within the confines of this simple Garden. Events, which have been jarred beyond recognition due to, weathered time. Once I happened to meet someone engaged in “commercial sex” and who is usually based in Makati (as what he told me soon). Looking so butch in his leather jacket and possessing such a strong look in his eyes, with a body like that of a well practiced dancer, he offered himself to me for a fee. Although quite familiar with the type, I sincerely just couldn’t fathom what he meant then – I could easily have sex if ever I want it if I just sought it myself (in the vicinity). Also, Mehan Garden looks so invitingly well-endowed that evening. The option could have been quite good yet some better options were around me then. I opted out.
* * * * * * *

The next one I recall to have encountered turned out to be someone who works in the hotel industry, specifically someone who works as a front desk clerk. Living in Sampaloc, (as he later revealed) he was already somewhat in sweat, and in shorts and slippers, plus white sleeveless shirt. Although medium built, he looked outstanding in his haircut and face contour. His light skin simply glowed in the dark. Obviously, many had been seeking him out in the Garden. I followed him until we found ourselves together finally at the back of a building where many old, junk cars were parked. Whatever frightened notions I may have had then, all these turned out to be baseless. In an instant, his shorts were down his legs as I worked on him. He smelled of baby oil combined with his natural muskiness. Yet, those who were following us were persistent. Some just really want to watch, and not be engaged in their own thing. I offered to have this whole act be settled in a cheap motel. Thankfully he agreed.
* * * * * * *

I once met someone who told me he was from a section of the underground movement. I never really got to know the truth behind his claim. Possessing an interesting style of curly hair, he was wearing a well-proportioned mustache, which makes him look very dignified and neat. I recall he always speaks in a low voice, with many unfinished sentences meant for me to add whatever ending I may have in mind.

Althroughout in the period of our several encounters, I felt I just needed to overcome my longing for his lean and muscular body - a state which made me think seriously about a personally formulated notion that those who are in the underground movement must have been leading healthy, active, though dangerous lives. In a matter to months, I lost contact of him. Yet, during our conversations, I remembered him telling me about his plans to become an overseas contract worker, (now called OFW, overseas Filipino worker) somewhere in Manama, Bahrain.

From him, I got to better understand that there are certain places in the Middle East that are libertarian in its treatment of its citizens and guests. I even thought of finding out a job in Bahrain, as I got convinced I could very well improve on my lot in life if I got to work on stabilizing a more steady source of good income than the usual. Yet, I particularly remember him as we went out several times with some other friends. He was the ever faithful part time lover based on what I could sense then, yet there was something rather upsetting about him. He had this special style of exhibiting his brand of jealousy, that I found funny and intriguing at the same time. Why would he fell for me, he hasn’t yen known be that well, as I remarked once to myself. Actually, at this point in time, I simply couldn’t sustain any kind of a loving relationship, even a semblance of it, whatsoever - there have been so many distractions on hand.

Yet I remember that he took advantage of me one night one I was dead drunk. The next day, I felt all the pain as my extreme hangover subsided in the afternoon. I woke late in the morning and I saw him smiling and gently caressing my face. I had to puke out the sickness that I had that morning. Inside the safety of the comfort room, I felt severe pain in my anus, I got the clear ideas that he must have had enjoyed himself immensely in fucking me while I was helplessly drunk the previous night. In previous nights when we joined together to drink, we have had arrangements that no fucking will take place between us unless both of us are aware of it - this would ensure that we’ll enjoy the act. But this time, he took the liberty to get into it without myself agreeing in it.

Since then, I have never acquired any liking in the thought of getting into sex whenever I’m drunk. It’s simply sick for me. On some other recollections that I still have about him, he tried, though in a very subtle manner, to make me finance his efforts to work abroad. Still earning a minuscule of a net income monthly then, I just couldn’t figure out how to support him. He must have realized early enough that I couldn’t provide the needed help, and he was soon gone. Or if I recall wrongly, it was I, most probably who quit the relationship as soon as it was starting to flourish into something very memorable and hurting when goodbye time comes.

After a few years, in one recent meeting inside one of those third rate theaters in Sta Cruz with another fellow who were among those guys whom I got to meet via my other friends I met as well at the Walls, I was informed about the present status of this curly haired guy I described earlier. I was told that he has turned very thin and sickly as he was seen walking inside Harrison Plaza. The other fellow was with another companion who has observed that the two knew each other, but this other fellow simply denied upon being verified about the observation. The other fellow simply couldn’t believe how things must have turned out to be that bad for this curly-haired guy. In addition, I remembered having been given details on the past on how I got to jealously enraged over the thought that this curly haired guy could be doing it as well with this other fellow. They were together when they arrived at the house where my other group of friends were gathered for the evening. Intrigues flew from all eyes that I saw that night. I actually thought that they could very well be a good pair to look at. Nevertheless, I just asked aloud how come they’re together (thinking that they had not been that extra careful in keeping me from not observing the whole set up this way). This time, I got to know that this other fellow has brought this curly haired guy in other cruising areas as he really wanted to know these areas where I could possibly cruise myself (as I admitted that I actually cruise in other areas where he has yet to visit nor acknowledge).
* * * * * * *

Another man remains to be very vivid in my mind. Wearing a brown hat, denims with sando shirts, he looked as if he could really be able to fulfill just about anything in my mind. Medium built yet lean, he had chest hair, plus a glimmering dark glowing face. He kept on standing in a particular section in the Garden, where many casual strangers were around talking, laughing over some inaudible topic. I saw him take a leak somewhere, yet he was surprised when he noticed I was eyeing him intently.

I continued walking to other sections in the hope that I would get to meet someone new as usual. When I was back to that section where many were grouped before a makeshift foodshop, I opted to ask for coffee. I noticed him again. Our eyes met. I showed my keen interest. After coffee, I saw him walking towards the LRT Central Station. I approached him, and said "hi."

With a rough voice, “Kumusta ka? Kanina pa tayo nagkita pero di mo ako pinapansin. Akala ko lalapit ka….(How are you? We've been here for sometime now, but you kept on ignoring me. I thought you'd approach me...).”

“Saan ka pupunta? (Where are you going/0” I attempted to continue with the talk.

“Dyan ka lang, sesenyas ako sa iyo (Just over there; I'll give you a signal),” while I saw him walk towards the Fire Station. He entered and I waited patiently. Emerging fast enough, he motioned me over to follow him. I saw a man lying on an improvised bed, sleeping. My acquaintance motioned me to remain silent. He signaled me to go up inside the fire truck. I willingly went up and soon found myself inside. He soon followed, then already in his yellow shorts and sando shirts.

Removing his shirts, he guided my hands in probing his body. Soon, his black briefs appeared. We were kissing and hugging each other, engulfing each other with such warmth and sweaty motions. Brown nipples got licked as what’s done to a bunch of seedless grapes. Hairy body all over with the framed strength pulsating against mine. His body longed for more. I just kept on doing what’s expected to be done.

“Kaya nga di ako nag palabas agad, para masiyahan ka. Napansin mo ba? (That's precisely why I tried not to come at once; I wanted you to enjoy it more. Didn't you notice that?)” as he was dressing himself up again. I gave him some amount of money in the thought that he might want some food, as I felt hungry myself. I knew, as he told me as well that he was from Cavite, married, with two kids and with an elementary school teacher for a wife. They don’t get to see each other often, based on what I understood from his stories.
* * * * * * *

Inside the Mehan Garden is a concrete elevated platform in circle. Plants are placed at the periphery of this circle. You can see some details of the local library and a mural where some houseless people get to sleep. They have turned the place lately into a place of silence in the evening. I guess, not that many events take place in the area, nowadays. There is the continuing sound of droplets coming from an assembled water source directly beneath the circle, as it serves as an open tank from which to source the water for some portions of the garden. One night, I decided to explore again this elevated circle. The guard approached me as soon as I came. He was actually hesitant to talk to me, and just felt he had to do his job. I thought I must have quite unlikely from those he has accosted before. I found him to be quite attractive. Yet, I am not simply his type, I guess. I thought, he was looking for someone who will be more stylish in approach, unlike mine, which is rather straightforward and bare-all in one zip.

“Ba’t di ka pa umuwi? (Why haven't you gone home yet?)” he asked.

“Sarado na ang bahay namin. (I've been locked out by now; it's just too late for me to go home)”

“Alam mo bang bawal ang mag istambay dito ng ganitong oras? (Haven't you heard that it's bad to stay the night here?)” as if to warn me softly.

I kept on looking at him as a whole, still attempting to take my chances. A person came passing by but he was more a “she” as that person sashayed from nowhere at that second. I told myself, there’s a drought of interesting men tonight. I might as well have stayed in the house, instead.

“Baka iyan ang hanap mo? (Is he your type?)” pointing at the person. I smiled. Then he left me.
I set myself in one of the stone benches on top of the circle, which from where I was sitting is hidden, from the outside by the clinging and encircling vines. I thought of sleeping there again, just as to gain some strength. The stars are just so expansively above me. I felt unmolested. Some few moments and a guy went upstairs in the same circle. We just didn’t talk. Looking Chinese, not particularly striking, tall, lean, yet I thought untypical of those I have seen so far. He soon came in front of me as I was lying on the bench. He was soon over with his overtures after he encircled the place with his absorbing gait as he studied the view outside. Vehicles continue emitting the same choking and dirty air just a few meters from our cleft. We felt somehow shielded. He thought I must have been sending the signals. I supposed I have by this time have mastered to act the signals. He opened his fly and in an instant, we were over with the whole incident.
* * * * * * *

Near Mehan Garden is the Metropolitan Theater. Its stained glass façade bearing its name becomes more noticeable as one stands on the waiting shed on the road on the other side. Built during the early American period before the Great War, it still stands todate inspite of the many efforts to rehabilitate it to its former glory in the pre war days. One notices the design of this Theater belonging to the Art Deco period, with accompanying human like figures to emphasize some details in the facade. One gets to see one of the first flyovers built in the Philippines right in front of the Theatre. Like the Theatre, these flyovers have overcome earthquakes, and other earthly phenomenon – a tribute to the generations before on how they decide to build edifices at least 30 years ago (as a friend once gave me the technicalities of constructing flyovers before and after). Like the Theatre, this flyover leading towards Jones Bridge, has the feel of time that have advanced through several interesting personal and social eventful intervals.
* * * * * * *

I once saw a man in denim shorts waiting outside one of those shops selling antiques at the right side of the Theater’s façade, with the flyover just across the street. Furnished with a lighted bulb at the shop’s back, I could discern something very familiar from a comfortable distance. Jeepneys and private cars passed by. There were those who were waiting for the particularly right jeep or taxi to fetch them out of the whole scene. The man from the shop was actively in search, as many cruisers were passing by his place. Glances between common strangers were exchanged. Looks had been fastened to this man. Some approached the man in shorts and talked for awhile. Nothing sexual happened initially but one looking like he was from a private office eventually joined him inside the shop. From the shadows, I could clearly recognize figures engage the erotic. They could have turned off the bulb, but I guess they must have forgotten. I have seen the man do it several times. He must have been the owner, or the shopkeeper, but I could see he was definitely able to find a great way of relieving himself.
* * * * * * *

Some other nights took place uneventfully. I actually had nights with the alternative not to really engage with somebody with me put in gear the erotic. I thought I could handle situations like these quite well. Admittedly, I was successful on certain nights or in certain periods. Yet I realize I had been entangled in the intricate weaves of my personally designed web. Certainly, the quality of events each night depends largely on one’s looks, the weather, delightful thought projection as well the supply and demand of quality cruisers. Yet deep inside, I always told myself something had to happen, somewhat, as soon as I get to scare myself out of my longings.

Before they decided to put in place perimeter wrought steel fence with secure columns around the Intramuros walls facing the Manila City Hall, the whole area covering Colegio de Letran up to Mapua Institute of Technology near Bastion de Dilao was well chosen site as a spawning place for cruising. The Intramuros Walls along this side have withstood the ravages of time as they have the same effect of excluding those merely gazing and standing just outside the Walls. The canal still remains uncovered todate but now it is inside the perimeter fence. Gone perhaps are those days when this canal served as a wide gap from those who would like to merely watch from those who are engaged in action. This canal could easily separate those cruising vehicles by a few meters. Actually, this canal serves as a conduit, somehow as I figured it out, of the water that has been collected to create a semblance of a murky moat around certain portions of the Walls. Then, buses used to make illegal use of the space as a parking lot after they have come and gone to and from Batangas, Laguna, and Quezon. In contrast, cruisers take advantage of the relative freedom available to them in the evening in the space which had a certain silky hue of darkness as the hours moved forward up to early hours of the next day.

Before, practically every night that I happened to be there, even as early as 8 PM I remember having seen quite a big number of cruisers in earlier described section just outside the Intramuros Walls. They just go from one end to another, feigning the usual nonchalant pose and acting as if they’re just passing by, when in truth, they wanted to seek out some prospective partners. I must have seen and recognized some familiar and known faces in this area. This used to be the most convenient section then where cruisers could get away fast and safe whenever the police decide to poke in the area notoriously known where cruisers play their game, where likewise some creatures of the criminal were believed to have used to lurk. The gap, which is actually the canal, which separates the inner section from the section outside near the road, served quite a purpose. From time to time, some of those who have decided to reside in the area are seen making a toilet out of the canal, while oblivious to those of us cruising in the area. They must have thought that we’re the intruders in this place, which they call “home.” Or they must have thought “to each his own.” A fence used to separate the canal from the parking area of buses, and where real action takes place. I remember having seen guys who must have just opted to casually engage in oral sex, which they could easily get in the place from anyone willing and able. Hidden beneath the trees, or some protruding rocks, they opted to relieve each other while some others would opt to just gawk and watch. I figured out that there are a few losers in the place, excepting the types who thought of themselves as ultra selective, who couldn’t find out someone to their taste, who had the qualms about such a thing as casual sex, thus they end up disappointed and disgruntled.
* * * * * * *

Once I met a Bus Conductor who was sitting then on a big stone near the buses in the parking lot where now stand many feeble plant trees being tended for growth in the next five to fifteen years. He got the usual interesting looks as I noticed some had approached him and had talked with him for a while. Mustachioed clad in denims, and quite well built with no protruding tummy, he didn’t really go further in entertaining those who were approaching him, as I also noticed those walking around back and forth near him.

“Kumusta ka? (How are you?)” I asked.

“Eto, naghihintay sa kasama kong driver, hindi pa bumabalik – kanina pa sya nanood ng sine (Hmm, just waiting for my partner, the driver, he's not been back yet; been waiting for him to come back from the movies),” he answered impatiently. Our dialogue took some interesting turns until I asked about his job as well as himself.

“Ibig sabihin mo, gumagawa ka rin? (Don't tell me you're also into these things most guys do here at this time of the evening?)” as he asked me in disbelief. I just nodded.

Some silence took place and I offered something else which I thought could relieve whatever ails him them. He then invited me to join him in his bus, which was then parked at the lot. When we were inside the bus, he borrowed for a while my shoes which he wore as he went out to get something from his colleagues from a nearby foodstall. I got scared inside the bus, darkened and cold, and by the thought that this man had something sinister in mind. He certainly possessed that naughty yet playful look in him, typical of those whom you see as regulars of billiard games - traits which made him quite attractive as I noticed how he smoke listlessly with his eyes searching for something I couldn’t exactly name. At this moment, he was back inside the bus as he approached me who was seated and barefooted at the back. He took a look first at the possibility of others who might have followed us or those who were moving around to find some available space. From time to time, buses move in and out so that focus lights were highlighted at our direction. We kissed and hugged each other longingly and tightly. His strength somehow shaken me as I tried to cover much what I could handle with my sweaty palms. I took off his white shirt as he took off mine, as we attempted to grab each other closely. His pants were down soon as I stared at his lithe body clad only in white briefs. Grabbing me by the neck, he was discernibly nervous in his deep breathing as he watched me work on him. Bared and hands clasped together, I took note of his shiny brown skin and the very black strands of his pubic hair, which I discerned while lights from moving buses were focused towards our direction.

He simply liked to reciprocate, which surprised me, as I didn’t really expect him to do so. The bus was shaking somehow as we proceeded with our efforts to overcome our urges towards each other. We finished and dressed ourselves as we gave each other another moment of fervent kiss. Later, he told he was married with three children, and that his family is based in Batangas, which his bus serves. I recall he told me that he actually has not yet gained much exposure to this manner of coping with this type of sexual urges (which I guess, parallels to mine whenever I am at the Walls). Still, he wanted very much to explore whatever is in store for him as he explained why he chose me over the others. Still, he gave me some credit in my efforts to approach him.
* * * * * * *

I once saw an articulate director (at least based on his published interviews) of well known and culturally shocking alternative short films walk it out near the area where buses used to park to get passengers, quite near across the Manila City Hall. It was not yet pretty late that evening; I recall the many number of vehicles moving to and fro.

He was actually being kind of a snob, and I couldn’t figure out if he was out to do some research, or to just pour out some sense of emptiness. But bearing this kind of attitude simply couldn’t bring him any distance at all in the vicinity, even if he’s just doing this walk for research purposes. One simply can’t be a snob and expect to be approached by anyone, at least here. Or if this attitude is sustained, he simply couldn’t afford to make use of it while observing what’s ongoing in the place all along this time. I could just wonder how he could even land being cruised wearing such a mien, as if he’s different from the rest of the crowd. I realize, the same things happen to each of us in due time. It looks and feels very familiar, even particularly upon hearing Sting’s melody for his songs Fragile and The Hounds of Winter.
* * * * * * *

One night, I got the chance to talk and eventually make it out with an instructor of Dentistry in a college somewhere in Manila. He was particularly outstanding, given his pale looks and tall height. He was also attired differently. He initially remarked that he just wanted to check out for himself again how the cruising scene in Manila has progressed since his coming back from the United States. Something light was with his face, and he was being funny. I was concentrating on other prospects who might come my way that night. The area, which has since then closed, used to be full of cruisers who conveniently alight from nowhere at the nearby road and proceed with their own businesses in the area. One thing l liked about this Dentist-instructor was the facts he told me about his three years of stay in San Francisco and California. Other than the other materials I’ve read and collected, he was the first one to give me factual events in the said places. Indeed, more and similar heady events take place in those areas at the other areas of the globe. He gave me particular details of how some gaybars have refused him entrance, even if he looked Caucasian enough. He stated how he received discriminating treatment from certain establishments. From him, I got a better idea of how similar cruising events take place at least in known places in America. I guess, Manila will still take a long time before it eventually become typical of what’s happening in the States. Filipinos are yet to be possessed of that straightforward approach in life. We like to beat around the bush, without giving names to our emotional concerns. We’re still very much attached to our families who could easily provide us support during hard up times. Moreso, we possess such a commercial attitude towards our efforts to engage in sex with some others whom we find attractive or who find us attractive. This somehow relieves us of the enduring guilt feelings after engaging in illicit sex. My newly found friend-companion, nevertheless, didn’t exactly like staying and living for good in the America, as he couldn’t practice his profession there. He decided to come back and resettle himself in Manila.

He told me about his apprehension over the idea that his students might think lowly of him. Two of them, have so far fucked him, as he couldn’t resist making it out with them. I could sense the moral enigma that he has as we were engaged in sex yet the whole dilemma was beyond my competency. People judge you accordingly, based on their respective standards. He eventually gave me another person’s name, just in case I’d like to proceed with the efforts to better understand and appreciate this kind of lifestyle. I got to eventually meet the referral who turned out to be quite a good fellow, who looked and behaved as the next typical good-looking and clean-living young man I get to meet in my everyday life.
* * * * * * *

The Main Post Office almost always provided a good panoramic backdrop on a number of my encounters. This is particularly true when its front lights are still on, giving much brightness on the whole structure in the evening, as well as on those spending time outside the tall columns of the building. There was once a night, quite early then, when I got to meet a young looking fellow who was in his basketball outfit plus hi-cut Nikes as he lied languidly on the concrete steps of the Post Office. I thought, he must have gotten so dog tired from playing, that he figured that he could just spend some time in sleeping, even for a while.

I thought that it’s not actually a bad idea to come nearer the guy, for a better, assuring view of someone who looked like he was sleeping contented just outside the Main Post Office. I thought to myself, he was being very smart and convenient. I drew enough courage to approach him in the most silent manner that I could. I stood for a while in front of his body, as I studied him at close range. One instant, raging idea clicked in my mind. More courage. More scared heartbeats. And one serious decisive attempt. I sat by his side, and noticed that no one was with us. The view from the top step outside the Main Post Office included that of the lighted clock-tower of the Manila City Hall. Bonifacio just stood frozen at a distance as all vehicles continued speeding and flashing by outside the concrete enclosure surrounding the front of the Main Post Office. I slowly pulled down his shorts. And soon, his white, fresh briefs followed down. He was not waking up, at any case, as if playing with me my game.

He was completely neglecting my presence as he was giving me full rein of what he has to graciously offer. I saw how erect he was at this time. I took my chances and grabbed all the meat that I could handle, nonchalantly. He didn’t even care to wake up, even a bit, as if in complete ignorance of the whole event taking place in his body. Somewhat, I’ve found the idea quite mindblowing.

After coming, he deliberately woke up to put an end on the game. He stood up, and pulled up his undies and shorts. He started to prepare himself to walk away from the scene. Apparently, he was used to having strangers not talking to him, after they have just been over with seems to be just an easy to “scratch away one’s itching urges.”

We started talking, and we never talked about the whole episode earlier. I felt both relieved and amused at the kind of game that he has. I later learned that he just came from basketball practice in his school in Feati. I observed that he took note of my number as we continued walking towards the other side of the Pasig River, by crossing the McArthur Bridge to enter into Sta Cruz. Approaching one of the posts of the LRT Carriedo Station, he excused himself for a while to retrieve his big, red sportsbag that he left in the momentary care of the itinerant street vendor. I remarked at how he was able to afford giving the vendor his trust that his bag won’t get lost or stolen. He had known the vendor for a while, and he always asks for this same favor if he has the need for one.

We met a few times more. I learned he’s just in the city to finish a degree in Engineering. He just lives together with some classmates in an exclusive male dorm. He’s been leading a somewhat carefree, young bachelor’s life. For whatever it’s worth, I’ve learned that he has a mother who works as an influential administrative staff of a city somewhere north. They in fact have a house right in front of the city hall. He wanted me to see him more often but I figured that I should be going out of the whole set up, instead. I recall that I must have gotten exhausted of him just wanting me to provide for his sexual needs everytime he has the urge (at his young age then), which I simply couldn’t find time to sustain.