5. Some Nagging Personalities

The book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback & ebook formats, from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 

Index:
A CoastGuard Man
There were eight of us!?
First meeting at the Theatre
A Binondo based Ad Guy
Two college teachers
We had the same name
A cousin of an action star

One rainy night, I opted to be in search again of something familiar. Bringing with me an umbrella, I decided to park myself for a jumping start at the Central Post Office. Motivated largely by the past evenings when I had good chances of meeting interesting strangers, I looked at every face I got to face that night.

The rains fell softly at the start. Soon, the drops became furious and mad, I thought of thanking myself for being able to find cover under the tall columns of the Central Post Office. The bright golden lights were on, which helped highlighted those standing around. Men, mostly vagrant types, or simply those unable to find comfortable corners to sleep for the night were lying around. I pondered on the tall columns as I tried figuring out my status. I saw a man, medium in built, possessing such bright eyes, and looking cute in his short, curly haircut, who was in fatigues. He was smoking. Actually, I earlier saw him running from one of the jeepneys plying towards Pier and as he sought cover from the strong rains. I thought why he would have opted to alight a jeep at that point. Approaching him, I felt the urge to immediately seize my chance. Opening my umbrella, I stood beside him until he took note of me, looking at me intently. I couldn’t recall how we started to converse with each other. I felt relieved I was over with the preconditions then.

“Sama ka sa akin? (Would you like to come with me?)” as he took note of the use of my umbrella in negotiating the strong rains falling and making us wet somehow that moment.

“Saan? (Where are we going?)” as I asked though not really meaning what I wanted to say.

“Sa barko (To the ship),” as he explained that he had to be back to the Coast Guard ship at the Pier beside Manila Hotel where the Presidential Yacht was then docked. Without any hesitation, I jumped at the idea of joining him at the ship.

Actually, this man belonged to the command whose main job is to guard the Presidential Yacht (I guess, they must have sold this Yacht, as we never get to hear about it these days, except during the Marcos era). I recall that we just breezed through the security as we crossed the water to be on the ship, where I saw quite a number of the Coast Guard. I tried not to talk that moment. I didn’t want anybody to be noticing me then as I was figuring out what I was doing there then in the midst of those Coast Guards who kept on a face while the rest smiled slyly at me being around. I guess they knew somewhat. They were then ready for their dinner that night. Invited to share in their dinner, I scooped some freshly cooked rice, sardines, mackerel, and fried ordinary fish - medium rare, looking pale and presented in unappetizing style, which could have been caught underneath that very ship where we stood - from a wide brown flat pan as the other Coast Guards were also getting their share. I wasn’t hungry then, yet I felt the need to share in the dinner in the hope I was not being offensive to the crew.

That particular Coast Guard was then on duty, as he explained that he had to be back after a few hours. He made my lie on his cot at the sleeping quarters. I didn’t really feel comfortable with the thought that I would be alone in that corner of the cabin. Trying to get sleep, I saw several uniformed men who came in and out just to get something out of the cabin made up of around 12 pull down cots. I figured out that they were quite casual about anything. They didn’t really talk, and they just moved around. The corner felt cold and wet, as I heard rains falling and the water below splashing back and forth. The ship was in slow, slow motion just like the rhythm of my body.

Later, the Coast Guard came, and asked me how I was then. I just smiled and noted his heavy frame as we lay side by side. He took some clothes from his cabinet beside the bed where I was lying. We just continued to talk about his duties, his colleagues, the weather, and the seeming boredom of it all. He went to the shower where he I saw him undress. He didn’t close the sliding metal door. I saw him naked as the shower was on pouring strong current on his body. Soaping himself all over, he looked like the typical man you see on TV ads selling soaps. Looking wet and glorious, his brown nakedness was discernible, as the ceiling light in the shower was bright in focusing details of the scene. He was not mindful at all, as he took his time in the shower as both his hands grasped himself fully in my sight. Fearful that somebody might just come in anytime, I controlled my urge not to make it with the Coast Guard that moment. Feasting on the details which felt so much within four steps distance, I heaved so much sighs on seeing him have fun while being keenly watched by me at a safe distance.

The next morning, the Coast Guard woke me up. I refused to join in the breakfast. I just had hot coffee as we talked about how to get in touch with each other next time. I remember to have made several phone calls to him until we finally lost touch with each other after several months. I last saw him in the papers with his colleagues, all in frogsuit, who were then in search of some lost, drown bodies due to a ship which sunk somewhere in the borders of the Manila Bay, Corregidor and Cavite.
* * * * * * *

The Postal Bank head office used to be closed and unused then. The area looked abandoned particularly in the evening. Then, the extension office building of Main Post Office stood among tall grasses, and in a semblance of an unmaintained garden. An old medium sized truck used to park for a long time just right on the other side of the road of this unkempt building. The kind of men who gathered there in the evening simply represent those types whom everyone meet everyday.

There was an instance amidst the tall grasses where I made it together with about eight different men who came one after another, and who shared with me my cravings for the particular night. We were primarily jacking ourselves off in front of the rest of the men who were doing the same in the group. In the midst of it all, the heat could get to be very unbearably beyond control, as our collective murmured sighs could be heard as the rest of Manila continues with its business.

There were others who just couldn’t contain themselves from kissing the men of their desire in the group while the whole event was ongoing. I guess, we must have lasted for over an hour or so doing the same act until everybody decided that it was time to go on. Yet, while we were in the midst of physically sharing each other with the rest of the group, the whole place gets to be lighted by trucks, jeepneys, and private vehicles passing by towards Pier, in between 2 AM up to 4 AM perhaps.

I guess people must have seen us but they just couldn’t do anything but to move on with their own business. Plus, there was the constant nagging fear, as well as the source of excitement, of the Police catching us in the act as they surreptitiously patrol and appear from nowhere while we are in the middle of our disheveled act. Nevertheless, on Judgment Day, I realize, all of us in that crowd, as well as with the rest of humanity, our judgment will come as what we deserve. Most of us believe on this.
* * * * * * *

Just outside the vicinity, I particularly remember meeting again someone whom I first met in one of the theatres near the place. Being a tall man, he was instantly recognizable in his shorts and his serious dark eyes. I made it with him again in a nearby area where we repeated the same happening which took place earlier when we first met. This time, he was the passive one as I went on ramming myself into his body. I particularly remember his being very passive that night, that he kept on accommodating me. He still has the same style, same manner of approach, the same brooding silence as we were heavy serious into the works.

I remember the season then, being Halloween. I thought, and was correct in thinking so that I could easily make it again. At least, if this is actually a valid point of consolation, this time, it was with someone I met before. This is actually connected with my wrong belief that if I attempt to just limit my sexual encounters with those whom I have met before, my chances of catching the dreaded virus may turn out poor. Actually, this remains to be affirmed. Inspite of advances lately about the nature of the HIV, so much is still unknown about it, particularly, just how exactly it spreads from Zero Person to the next one, until it reaches, any one of us. I was brought back abruptly to the scene with this man. Thankfully, it was over. I walked towards the buses, and walked under the darkened portion of the bridge connecting Sta Cruz and Lawton. I saw the white ferryboats floating at the waiting shed where several young people who have that typical vagrant look who have settled in the space for the night.
* * * * * * *

There was also one rainy evening where I even made it with someone inside the truck which was parked just right outside on the other side of the road fronting the Main Post Office extension office. The antelobby where we saw each other was in the cavernous Main Post Office the columns of which provide cover to those inside this wide and rectangular space inside. He kept on touching himself in his shorts while giving me that dreamy look. Walking away from the antelobby as I saw him follow me, I thought of having both of us getting inside the truck, without even thinking that people could easily prey on us from nowhere. Given the heat, I was thankful it started to rain heavily. Standing in front of me as I sat in a makeshift chair, he was simply following all orders that I demanded from him, which made the whole experience rather so unnerving while the rains continued to pour strongly outside the truck. While in the act, I recalled having met the same guy someplace in the Walls. I think this must have been in the circular elevated stage in the former Mehan Garden. He must have been with someone else, whom I wanted to replace as I saw how passionately he behaved at him that night. We actually talked for a while then, many nights before, as we attempted to decide whether we actually like each other or not. I remember him telling me that he belonged to the underground movement, particularly those groups affiliated with the militant labor sector. I smiled and said to myself some possible reasons, why he saw the need to tell me that. Yet I remember, I was inquiring about our respective jobs. He was proud to be doing such kind of work. I actually felt good doing these things to him. I remember seeing him again a long time after our encounter, this time in a bus in Balintawak where he alighted right in front of the Cloverleaf Market.
* * * * * * *

Another event with much nerve took place at the same earlier mentioned area points to someone I met at the Post Office Main Building one early morning. I was standing at the left side of the Post Office with a huge planter covering me from the view of Lawton. The place smelled strongly of fresh urine. I just wonder why people wanted to turn this space into a loo. To exact revenge at the reeking smell around, I released my share on the wall nearly up my chest, and saw a couple doing their own thing down near the bushes. At one time, one of the guys kneeled down before the other, and at an instance, the other guy was then sinking himself into the guy who was earlier kneeling before him. Meanwhile, I soon learned I had company at the space where I was standing while watching the couple below. I actually saw him hours earlier as I noticed his shorts for an outfit with a tennis bag on his left arm. He was brooding all the time, with out even attempting to look at me into the eye. I thought he must have been very serious or tired. He approached me and took down his shorts, exposing himself for me to stare at while I turned panicky at the thought that we could easily be thought. I realized that as soon it was over that I have gained much confidence in myself in engaging in such activities without much concern on what may turn out possibly next. What took place next does not matter anymore; what matters is that I get to acquire the means to satisfy my temporary longing on the verge of being spilled outrageously in the open. People have turned to be mere outlets in an instance that I get to make it with anyone of them. I have lost count of the number of times when I just acted so programmed driven with my urges – with what I have learned in abling myself to overcome certain events in my existence.
* * * * * * *

One Saturday sundown, I happened to be around the vicinity to catch up with my mailings at the Post Office. I chance upon a chinky eyed, pale looking, mustachioed man who was then almost through with this smoke, and who must have talked to me at the instance that he sighted me coming from the Jones Bridge. The Post Office was then almost deserted, and I could behold the stretch of fiery red and orange hues of the sky above us, I felt all the urge that I could muster so suddenly (mainly perhaps due to wonderful sensuous scene). The whole Postal Office turned into picture perfect landscape, just like in several stylized TV advertisements of cellphones, slacks, or snackfood. The man and I were soon crossing the Binondo Bridge, leading towards an Office Building somewhere in the business enclave of Filipino Chinese. The whole experience, almost always reminds of one of those late afternoon walks I had while still a student when I chance upon a floating corpse of a man along the Pasig River, near Escolta. A crowd was soon gathering around the floating corpse that floated here and there in the murky waters of the river. He must have been one of those salvage victims that have been gleefully posted in most newspapers in Manila that hungers for the worst and macabre among the ordinary.

The guy that I was with that time looked so typical, in his T-shirt and slacks. We were then entering an old Binondo building along Paredes St that leads towards the center of the Binondo district of Manila. I noticed guards were milling together as we entered the office, while some other people were rushing to move out of the office building. There is something rather romantic about this kind of buildings, which evokes memories of old Hong Kong film rolls shown almost every now and then in the MTV channel. We reached the third floor, whereupon we entered an office, which turned out to be one of those ad agencies found in Binondo.

The minute we entered the room, we immediately shuffled all the papers and other paraphernalia on two tables. We were already kissing each other in the lips as he was trying to lock the door. It looked so invitingly private, and I could still see some glints of the colors of the sunset from the window. We simply rushed through the works.

This guy turned out to be indeed a family man who has had his first chance of sexually engaging in with men, when he was still a hardup tricycle driver in their small town somewhere in Laguna. Some of his passengers turned out to be some of his earliest experiences. I could just imagine his looks when he was younger as I took note of his huge, muscular legs while we were doing all the works. He needed to be very discreet these days, as every now and then, he had to relieve himself of the urge, the taste for which he had developed when he was younger.

Deciding to get married, he now (then) had two children whom he patiently brings to school in the National Teachers College, from where he also struggled to finish a bachelor’s degree in Education. He taught for a while, until he found and developed a talent that enabled him to write copies deemed to be well crafted and fetching in the ad agency business. He soon found a stable job in a Makati ad agency, soon got bored about corporate life, and shifted to Binondo for a less pretentious, yet more moneyed environment. I smile everytime I see samples of his works in the papers, particularly those on men’s underwear. His company likewise has huge billboards, announcing different brands of men’s undies somewhere in Recto, Cubao, or Makati. We could have sustained something as a partnership, perhaps starting as regular sex partners. I could sense his disappointment at me, when I called him up after two months. He wanted me to call him more regularly, that we move on to the other aspects of friendship. Yet, then, I still couldn’t figure out the means to separate shades of our friendships. I was rather indecisive.
* * * * * * *

There were instances in the earliest evenings that I’ve gone cruising in the Walls that I got to meet familiar faces. I actually have met some of them in the previous nights, yet some are quite particularly interesting enough, for one reason or another. I saw two fellows whom I have met first in the University. The first one was with another college that offered computer science course. He was an alumnus of the University, and had remained single throughout his life. He was a looker, and fairly well attractive even if he has thinning hair palate on his head. The last time I heard of him, his name was in the tabloid for having got himself killed by his young lover. I could sense the same typical treatment of the storyline that these tabloids seem to have as a bias for this type of story. The story detailed that of the young lover wanted some amount of money, which his lover couldn’t provide at once. There was a fight that ended in shooting match, and the former teacher-lover died in the process. The second one has got to be one of my teachers in the University. He’s a professor who has worked hard for his PH.D, and who has got a reputation of being difficult among the students. He never recognized me as he actually approached and smiled at me during one night of cruising in the Walls. He didn’t smile out of recognition, but out of his desire to make it with me, at least for the night. I never got the guts to inform him I was one of his former students. I have figured out these individuals tend to get to be ultra lonesome on certain nights. Such lonesome nights creep into one’s own being on certain periods of the year. It’s actually a maddening situation, especially if one’s caught up with this certain sense of loneliness that seeks out the loving presence of the beloved, even among strangers.
* * * * * * *

In the early evenings that I’ve pursued cruising in the Walls, when I have not yet counted that many number of encounters (as perhaps, judged relatively by others who fail to get their share), I remember with a certain affectionate fondness having met a tall, lanky and hirsute fellow the same age like mine. In fact, we share more than having the same age. And as they say, people are, almost always, not what they appear. Just like this fellow who appeared like he was waiting for a jeepney ride towards Pier. He was more into something else, just like what I was into that night. I was actually undecided whether I should first approach him, or should I just let him take good notice of me, and finally approach me. Having decided the former, I recall that I turned somewhat listless as I couldn’t think of a logical way to approach him. I noticed how he looked so stony silent possessing such impenetrable cold gaze as he stood in front of the Main Post Office that late evening.

Some short periods of time were spent further in fidgeting over actions that should have been rendered far more earlier that particular evening. He must have observed me looking longingly at him, as if I was waiting for something crazy to happen, like he and I, getting to eventually get to know each other. Inevitably, we did talk with each other, as I awkwardly started to give out the first familiar sentence.

“Kanina ka pa dito? (You've been here long?)” as I probed my eyes on his height and his dark colored long sleeves that looked so fit on him. I also noticed closely how he has allowed a beard to grow on him, which fits him to a T. This must have been one of my lucky nights, no matter how I such a disbelieving attitude towards luck, as I gave him a smile.

“Hindi nga makasakay (Darn it...I could not get a ride!),” as if he wanted me to believe him, after seeing him let several jeepneys passed him by. Or perhaps he might just be waiting for some kind of a vehicle to pass by, and perhaps, pick him up (I’ve observed such encounters like that in this place).

Soon, I got to learn that he had the same first name as mine, and I reached out my hand to touch his right shoulder as I got astonished beyond myself upon knowing the fact. On second thought, he must have been taking me for a ride, as he looked quite experienced on events like what we were progressing into that night.

In a few minutes, the usual sex act immediately took place between us that night. It was as casual as we could get. Yet I recall, I have grown quite fond of him as I felt something uniquely special for him. I told myself, I should have not allowed myself to get into sex with him, that first night.

From the start, he took me by surprise as he admitted having been meeting every now and then with his psychiatrist for a period prior to me meeting him in the Walls. Perhaps, he was taken aback as well by my straightforward approach in engaging him in a talk and fast casual sex. He told me the sessions usually took place periodically, just as to help him cope with himself. He took prescribed medicines in order to help manage his behavior; I thought the whole thing was downright stupid. Therapy, I felt, was what he needed, and not prescriptions. He must have been undergoing sessions to help him manage, perhaps, his depression, or perhaps, something more psychologically clinical to warrant prescribed medicines.

That night must have been one of his lucid nights. Yet being a believer in psychotherapy, rather than tablets for managed ideal behavior, I was biased and angry towards his psychiatrist. He meets the shrink at the Philippine General Hospital (PGH). I suppose my friend must have been one of the psychiatrist’s guinea pigs, or he was just being studied just like a specimen for additional residency credentials of the said medical doctor, who, chances are would just be one of those student-doctors at that hospital. PGH is known for this, being a medical learning institution, affiliated with the reputably best publicly funded Philippine institution of medical and allied studies. While my friend goes about discussing all the procedures he has to undergo, I could just imagine how he was being treated at the hospital.

Looking back, I had an inkling from the start of our meeting from his lovely, sad eyes that carry certain hallmarks of a person who has been drenched heavily by his mind boggling frame of psychological makeup, of a fellow working on a recent emotional breakdown.

We met several times, as he was one of the very few guys whom I have eagerly shared my contact phone number. I made use that we would have to meet again, as I grew very curious of him. This is one guy who nonchalantly tells just about anyone about his experiences with the shrink, which trait is untypically Asian. I was actually happier that he would want us to see other quite often, at any given the chance, even as I tried to find time for him inspite of my heavy workload in the office (as I have to develop a career, having just graduated from college two or three years earlier). In addition, I like to compliment him for not even seeking any financial help from me, considering that he didn’t work then, and had to quit his studies, in order to pursue his med sessions.

Actually, it takes me a certain level of effort in recalling deeply buried memories of this event in my life. It’s simply like breathing out with three fourths of my lungs already bloodied from suffocation. He simply contributed much in helping me evolve my general attitude towards loving, and being loved, being desired and desiring (and other parallel concerns). I couldn’t recall substantial remnants of any of our conversations yet I recall his presence from time to time. Actually, he could have been one of those ghosts who have been haunting me of late. He always had his enduring presence in my mind that I’ve physically seen quite rarely for a while lately. Also, from him, I’ve learned how to actually confront the theories I’ve worked on for a degree, on just how practical they can get, if the situation warrants it.

It’s only now that I’ve realized that there’s nobody particularly like him from the all those whom I’ve met, even outside the Walls. From him, I’ve simply learned the ironies of affectionate emotions for someone who needs all the emotional support that I could provide for him. And from him, I’ve grown to be pessimist for a long while. My views have grown negative on the prospect of ever getting to meet someone for a long-term partnership, at least emotional, or better, loving setup, if this could ever be worked out, by both partners (unless, of course, if the setup allows one to play submissively, the other, more actively).

I soon found out of his continuing emotionally draining struggle for his father’s acceptance of him. His father considered him psychologically deviant from the rest of his children who happened to be all boys. He told me how his Father related how he hated him for being what he is (without uttering any despicable and descriptive term, whatsoever). I could just see how my friend has managed to cope with a range of emotions brought forward by a situation like might provide him, at any point in time. I got my chances to talk with his father over the phone, and he has such a cool, baritone voice, being a professional radio announcer. Indeed, I was relieved at hearing that he sounded friendly to me. I recall that my friend spends much of his time with his paternal grandmother in Quezon City. He receives a special allowance from his grandmother, so as to support his fees for his regular meetings with his therapist.

We once met one night at the front steps of the Finance Building in Luneta, near the skating rink. I was late by over an hour that night as I had a difficult time commuting from our place to Luneta due to the sudden heavy rain pour. I saw him waiting patiently, drenched wet by the rain; I saw his lovely wet face. I was surprised as he kissed me on the lips for a long while, just right the minute I emerged from the steps of the Burnham-designed Finance Building.

His family lives in Sta Ana, and I used to wait for him somewhere in the patio of the Sta Ana Church. He told me that he was taking his chances as he wanted to introduce me to his family, particularly to his father. He expressed surprised at hearing that his father actually handed him the phone, whenever I call him in their house in Sta Ana. My friend remembers previously, his father almost always refused to receive phone calls for him. Or even take messages for him. His Father simply hated the kind of friends that he keeps. In making such a remark, he reminded me again of his Father who thought of him awkwardly different from the rest of the brood.

He waiting for me to get a jeepney-ride back home. He pointed at another tall guy, better looking than him. He told me the guy’s his brother, who’s actually a healthier version of my friend. They never talked that moment, yet somehow, they took cognizance of each other’s presence, by simple nods. The guy soon rushed to get a taxi ride, and away from our probing eyes. He must have seen the admiration that I had for his brother’s looks from my eyes. He then went on to explain that his brother actually has a rich Chinese lover, who lives in Binondo. I inquired for how long has the set up been like that. My friend didn’t answer. In reply, he related instead on how his brother’s actually a kept guy, yet their Father has yet to know this (or must have refused to recognize the meaning behind this situation of one of his other sons).

I simply couldn’t figure out the discrimination (or just how do you describe this?). Perhaps my friend has been the more outspoken, the more sensitive, and the more self accepting, than the rest of his brood. He must have been certainly the most rebellious among his siblings. He was the one who would rather be honest with himself, who accepts stupid judgments from the family (who’s supposed to understand and accept him for who he is). Perhaps to put a check on my behavior further that particular night, he even continued by pointing out that he has got another good looking brother. I just don’t know exactly why he has to tell me this. Or why he has to give me his calling card, only to give me strict instructions not to get in touch with this particular brother of his. My friend described him as one who own such matinee idol looks that he was being sought out actually by several producers to appear in their run of the mill movies. Yet he opted, instead to lead a corporate life with the Philippine Gaming Corporation. From my friend’s very eloquent eyes, I’ve seen the depth of complexity of the life that he leads. I got somehow scared over the hopeful prospects as our relationship as it progressed into an area that was beyond the familiar to me, then. Now, I could just say to myself that it could have a hell of a relationship. But then, I like to add as well that my friend has been lucid all the time that we’ve been together, as I recall him now. And if only my friend’s Father knew and understood all about these.
* * * * * * *

There were nights then when I could see groups who get to huddle together just as to talk, or engage in something inane, or simply make fun out of the situation that all of us there are into. I got to get involved in a good-looking younger fellow who happened to be a first cousin of a relatively well known movie action star. He even informed me that he’s a stowaway from his family for more than three years already. He simply had to run away from the clutches of his family, particularly his father who works with the Bureau of Internal Revenue. From then on, he accumulated that much experiences as he had to send himself to finish highschool, in Bicol, where he had to stay for a while with the family of one of his friends.

One thing with this fellow has been very charming looks such that practically anyone who gets to know him, gets to quite fond of him, particularly of his having that helpless charisma around him. People tend to like to help him, as I’ve observed as we got to know each other pretty well. We met one late November evening, and we heard some Christmas songs, which must have prodded me to go out of my way to offer something more stable for him, just like the two of us getting into a serious relationship.

Now I recall him everytime I see his friend who was essential representation of a fellow who has had difficulties in accepting himself. He studied in one of those well known boys’ schools in Quezon City, and he once regularly played polo with some rich young fellows whom he has met in highschool. I’ve seen him lately. He dropped out of school, turned to shabu, got more confused, got more angrier, remained unemployed even given his connections with established big business, as expected from someone like him with a fairly well known set of family and relatives. I always recall in him my friend as I always wonder about the prospects of a long term relationship if I only went out of my to be really serious about what I’ve wanted with my chance encounters then. Yet, then, I felt, it has no good long term prospects as I couldn’t cope with someone very pretty looking yet daring enough to make use of these goodlooks in order to penetrate deeply other people’s lives, including my own.

6. More Engaging Figures

The book is now available, in hardcover, paperback & ebook formats, from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 

"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.

7. On the Confines of the Past and Present

The book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback & ebook formats from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 

"Curt Urbanozo pictures"
Index:
An American with a PhD
Bastion de San Andres
A bunch of four
A Roving Salesman
An Architecture graduate who works as a druggist
A guy from Cebu
He makes Senator Enrile laugh
A male hairdresser

Until now, I still summon the memory of a certain outsider in the midst of strangers. Someone who was from the USA got somehow involved with me after we met in this section where provincial buses used to pull over almost all days then. Lanky and somewhat noticeable as he was a foreigner, he began our conversation right away after we recognized each other’s presence. Somehow uncertain with myself whether to proceed with the conversation, I felt the attraction was mainly due to a certain kind of outstanding difference that I was always yearning for from those I get to encounter in the area. I’ve read somewhere these people just get to hang you down for fun purposes. Still, I attempted to overcome the stereotype, an idea, which I didn’t, really understand completely before.

“How do I get in touch with you?” as he asked me in order for us to focus more with the then ongoing conversation.

He was particularly charming that evening. I remember we eventually settled down in his unit at one of those apartment buildings in Remedios where we did virtually all at the balcony with the CCP as a lucid backdrop. A performance had then been ongoing, as the CCP fountains were on and lighted brightly enough from that distance. Roxas Boulevard looked very cosmopolitan, with the volume of vehicles passing, and the big yet dark expanse of water at the other side. The apartment unit was tastefully designed, sparsely decorated, with much available space for someone who is solo-living, and with us naked outside with Ms Dietrich singing a strange German song in the background.

I later learned he was from the US Navy. I asked if he was a writer, but he replied that only got to write for his dissertation material. With a Ph.D. in Literature from a university in the US (he taught in De La Salle University, but he found his students to be “generally below average”), he had lived for a long while in Morocco, where he had quite a collection of art objects that he sold when he decided to leave and go someplace to proceed with his lifestyle. He mentioned that he often goes back and forth from Hongkong and the Philippines mainly to check on his stockmarket investments. I didn’t know how exactly to deal with him, as he was rather unassuming. Looking back, he could have provided me the means to get away from my limiting background. Among several possibilities, I could have gone out of my way to simply make good use of myself in taking advantage of his wealth. But of course, he was far more wiser than myself. He mentioned about his recent past lover whom he thought was merely taking advantage of his “wealth” - this could be easily relative, though.

I recall that we never really got far with whatever we have attempted to work on due mainly to personal differences in beliefs towards our respective families, handling my own money, political outlook, places to visit as well as general lifestyle. More meetings between us followed. I dreaded about him picking me up from my work in Makati, but he still insisted. My lady officemate, who was rather sophisticated herself on worldly setups like this (I later learned from another source that she had gone of her way, more than once, to pick up from the road her type-of-a guy using her personal car, if she had strongly felt the urge to engage in casual sex), acted somewhat suspicious about my ongoing meetings with him. Of all places, we even had to be meeting somewhere in Greenbelt, just in front of National Bookstore. I recall that he wanted us to be going out on dates. Yet, I simply didn’t have that much drive nor interest in pursuing something far more long term.

Somehow I felt the presence of the soul yet I was in disbelief that he would fall seriously for me, considering that we just met each other in the Walls (a notion which even todate has prevented me from considering serious options from certainly interesting and startling individuals).

The times then were heating on the issue whether the Americans should be kicked out of the Bases in Central Luzon or just maintain the status quo then (I agree with the earlier choice). We had arguments on these related matters while we were in bed. In essence, I just couldn’t contend with (I was younger then) a foreigner who was subtlety mercurial in his views to whatever stand I had then on life in general. He was even nudging me to keep myself away from financially supporting my family, an unusual idea in the usual Philippine extended family support system which, by the way, is one reason why our social system is still intact todate, inspite of the intrusions through the decades. I felt he just couldn’t even stand someone who kept on arguing against his beliefs, particularly someone imposing like me who hails from the Third World.

In the end, he got extremely disappointed with me. He disliked the fact that I had to entice him into seriously getting again in another relationship, which I never thought of telling him anyway. He was far, far older than me and he despised my playing naïve yet I felt sophisticated enough in dealing with him. Remarkably, I remember that we practically had the same size - it actually felt weird holding him, I thought I was holding mine - yet I never told him about this fact.

He shut the door strongly at the last time I went to his apartment. Acting rather cold and indifferent, he got extremely mad at me, for I had to courage to dump him, when I felt like doing it the previous night. Today, I was thinking if I could still take my chances again (he must have thought it over). Well, obviously, I was wrong.

“Why do you have to come back? I should have not allowed myself to open up again, you simply hurt me,” as I remember him blurting hurt emotions in one of our last meets. By this time, I have learned to be more guarded with my emotions. Much as I’d like to pursue something long term with him, I felt, I won’t be able to stand the whole thing out, I have not been that prepared yet (so I believe).
* * * * * * *

Recently, the walking areas on top of the Walls facing the Manila Bulletin’s Offices along Muralla St served as backdrop to an array of adventures whenever three or more men get bodily together. I had been tired by then due to walking back and forth on the Walls as I had been out since the last evening from a drinking session with some fellows. This was simply one of those nights when there were not that many options moving around. That portion of the Walls renders a vast stage for anything that can be executed with practically the wide horizon of playful clouds above anyone else. From where one stands, one can see the Puerta Real at a very near distance. I guess they call the place Bastion de San Andres. There stands an unusual arsenal like building built in the space hidden by the Walls, with complete tiled roofing, wooden heavy doors, with deep crevices on its three sides that cautiously give one an eerie plunging feeling. It could actually be developed into a very lovely garden if vines, blooming wild flowers, scented blossoms are placed according to a peculiar pattern among those rocky walls.

Recently, some small minded developer has started building some structures in this area near the Puerta Real and the Bastion de San Andres, the portion of the Walls fronting Manila Bulletin Publishing Offices. The Philippine Daily Inquirer has reported that these are supposed to be used as low cost housing projects, if I recall it correctly. Should we be bothered by such recent developments? Yet, I just couldn’t figure out how these can even meet the needs of those poverty stricken families? I mean, perhaps, they wanted to make more appropriate use of available space for the poverty alleviation programs of the Estrada Administration. I guess, they’re thinking of making the whole place more livable as it used to be during the Spanish times. Or perhaps, they’re making the housing spaces for the squatters who are still living in some streets inside Intramuros. I can just imagine how this can even provide for at least a semblance of normalcy in the Walls. Recently, I went in the area one rainy afternoon. Practically nobody was in the area, except for some uninteresting fellows who might just be around in the area to ponder on some past moments in their respective lives. Some have taken the task to do some fishing at the ponds below the Walls. I could see that they were harvesting some quite number of kilos of fishes, mostly tilapia. The greens are in such terrific hues, and the soft rain has started to drizzle. I can see the mountains from Rizal province from the distance. I was delighted to have seen so many swiftlets hovering in a corner of the Walls along Burgos Street leading towards the Manila Hotel. I thought, I couldn’t be able to make it with someone, as I thought no one was particularly interesting. I told myself, days like this happen, as I proceeded to walk. Until I reached Bastion de San Andres, where I saw some enclosures signaling “no trespassing allowed” to any intruders. I saw the state of construction that was taking place and I attempted to cross over. A guard stopped from continuing to do so, as he used his whistle at me. I decided this was not a good day, indeed to proceed with what I have in mind. As I persisted to cruise by walking along the path below the Walls inside, I met someone. He was just taking his chances as he sighted me from a distance. I thought he was okay, but he wanted something more swiftly, just like me doing it with him there and then, in full view of those construction men in a site near Letran. I just smiled and moved on.
* * * * * * *

I heard mass one Sunday morning in the Cathedral. This time, I couldn’t recall if this has been one of those Sunday mornings when I found myself cruising in the Walls. Perhaps, I must have decided to start cruising at the Walls at an early morning hour, just like the rest in the pack.

At this point in time, I have garnered many similar experiences when I found myself hearing the mass, either in San Agustin, or at the Manila Cathedral. I must have gone out of a cheap motel recently. I must have spent some few hours with someone who just wanted himself to be fucked as I reminded him of his former lover who worked in Pizza Hut in Baclaran. I felt amused by it all. Or this Sunday could have been one of those in the past when I just have spent the previous night without sleeping. I felt ridiculous and I thought of myself evolving into the imagined sick person that I could easily be, without being completely aware of the situation. Yet, I seek more engagements after this mass, as I promised myself, I’d be in search for more.

The mass in the Church has been always one of the simplest celebrations I’ve attended so far in memory. Yet, there was something about its stark simplicity that easily has caught me offguard away from my usual defenses. Guilt feelings slowly crept into being. I saw the poor children in rags offering flowers that they could have gathered in the Walls, themselves. San Agustin’s altar, with its pure red velvety cloth as a background of the Crucified Christ on the Cross, somehow has always made me nudge a bit from the center of my own self. I needed to confront myself, and work on seething conscience that hounds me every now and then. Some of the masses I’ve attended here in Intramuros featured some variety of a wedding in combination with the mass. I felt angry, at my failure to get into a marriage myself. But straights themselves feel apprehensive about the prospects of their own respective marriages, as well. I have my own set of style of departure from this usual setup, as I view the wedding ceremony. At the end, I felt happier, I have watched another wedding. I don’t want to engage myself in empty intellectual discussions of the same sort that attempts to explain why I am into these types of activities. Indeed, my attendance in the Church almost always makes me get into this type of brooding. There were times, I just simply have observed myself weeping, just alone by myself amidst the small crowd that characterize Sunday masses in Intramuros churches.

It was daybreak then, a Sunday actually when many usually decide to take a walk along the Walls. Most have reasons other than to cruise, I suppose. Some just get there to be with others who have similar interests and longings. Some go there merely to watch. The rest may just get there to toil with their bodies by just walking, running, or perhaps angling for fishes that live in the man made lagoons dotting the golf course down the Walls. In fact, there are those who are just around to gather their friends to get into a funny version of a beauty contest – where one gets to see beautiful looking adolescent men participate in a spoof of the typical variety.

I was amidst these individuals who were into a variety of reasons why they were around the area. Up until I met two couples who were largely bounded with each other because of their strong looking and domineering presence, when I finally realized I was already becoming deficient in action. I instantly got attracted to the bunch. Praise God, someone from the group talked to me immediately after I approached them to take a better look on what’s happening. The others in the area were rather making curious glances at what they’re doing. They just couldn’t help but touch each other without restraint whatsoever. I felt, however, like a violating outsider. The ongoing free wheeling conversation dealt on how they behave when they’re within the usual borders of their daily respective lives. I soon realized they must have met each other a few hours earlier. And then, one even pointed out the prevalence of the stereotype from a certain province in the South. He, then shifted, to his unexpressed fear which his colleagues may have eventually affirmed by the way they treat him on how he was handling his fear of his inner desires. He’s into public engineering works, as he shyly informed us then. Someone commented a stupid remark for all to hear; not exactly to express any similarity of a sympathetic concerns whatsoever. He then pointed out that there are really many like us around. Too many, they abound the perimeters and beyond the Walls. When pressed for some details, he nonchalantly told us about his previous work as a callboy. Spending more than two years as a commercial sex worker to the clients of Club 690 (he told us, the place used to be the place to be when one’s looking for fun and service way back in the mid 70s up to the late 80s then), he easily had interesting partners. There was even one Major from the military with whom he had spent more than three years in a relationship.

“Gusto ko yung hindi maarte. Basta ba nagkakaintindihan kami ng gusto namin sa isa’t isa, tuloy tuloy na kami. Yun bang hawakan ko lang ang braso, alam na nya. Wala nga kaming pinaguusapan tungkol sa kabadingan. Ewan ko nga ba? Basta ba, okay sa kanya, okay rin sa akin. Nagtagal kami nang isang iyon, ibinahay nya ako for more than two years, nagselos lang kasi dahil sa nadiskubre nyang mga tumatawag sa akin” ("I want someone who's got no qualms. As long as we know, and agree on what we want from each other, we'll pursue what's on hand. Example: I'll just his arms, he'll know what I want. We wouldn't talk about being gay. I don't know why? As long as it's OK with him, it's gonna be the same with me. We lasted as lovers for some time; he asked me to live with him for over two years...he just got so jealous when he discovered some guys had been calling me on the phone").

The succeeding details I heard sounded both hilarious and sad at the same time as they brought forward certain real concerns on the variations of the kind of lifestyle we similarly lead. Yet amidst all these, I sensed the kind of liberation from the repression they were enduring while in the middle of that entrapped period of time in the Walls. Soon, one couple was engaged in very wet kissing.

Nevertheless, the ensuing conversation continued to flow to all directions. I soon got to learn that the silent fellow is a Muslim, and that he works with a government agency that deals with the cultural minorities. He seemingly just didn’t want to talk. I just coached him to answer either in the affirmative or the negative. Initially, I just really wanted to know whether he was Muslim or not. I was aware I was threading on volatile grounds that time. The attraction I had towards this man who silently confirmed that he’s a Muslim became stronger as I saw him kissed his lover for the moment on the lips.

The other couple followed. Soon the first couple stopped for a while, and one of them motioned me to make it with one of those three or more who were hovering around them. I just resisted the idea, I never felt any attraction whatsoever towards any of those who were then around and just merely watching. He was then being fondled by one of those who were fluttering down us. One couldn’t help but be somewhat startled by the physical dimensions he possessed as he displayed himself amply to us, considering his small yet well framed built. Soon the scene become sweltering in the events that followed. They kept on kissing and the other couple before long followed – I was stuck into just viewing. I decided not to participate actually, I felt bad I couldn’t really engage as I just wanted to make it with the man who told me he’s a Muslim. Nevertheless, a chance soon showed up as his lover was then being worked on by one of those who persevered to participate in the whole scene. I got to talk for while with this Muslim as I caressed his nipples and we suddenly kissed each other. His mouth savored like healthy herbs and spices. Meanwhile, the other couple just followed what the first couple was accomplishing. Every now and then, we had to freeze the whole scene. Some cruisers still persevered in approaching our group. But soon they moved out after they recognized that they’re not invited in the inner circle, and we just carried through with the whole spectacle. They could view us from a safe distance, anyway. After a while we paused and decided we had to move to a more secure corner as I noticed all the bright white clouds hovering around us.

“May naninilip ("There's a peeping tom up there"),” as one pointed to the wide glass windows of the Manila Bulletin Offices at the other side of the section of the Walls. I actually couldn’t discern who were those keeping keen eyes on us from that distance. But I figured out that those construction workers, or some security personnel got interested at what we’re doing with our selves, physically.

“Nakikita mo yung bintanang iyon. Di ba may tao? ("Look at that window. I see someone in there.")” as I soon discerned a brown human face seemingly gazing at us.

Pausing for a while, we soon realized that nothing actually will stop these peeping toms from watching us. In addition, the sun by then got more scorching in its heat above our heads. Nevertheless, we had to make certain adjustments with the arrangements of our bodies every now and then.

The first couple then decided that they couldn’t control themselves anymore. Parting away with their pants to further provide space for each other’s closer examination, they continued to kiss and lick each other. With the sight on hand, I helped myself as well. One of them leaned over the side of the wall covering at least half his body, and he was as if discerning those figures who were watching from the windows of the building on the other side. Safely hidden from that side and directly seating down him was his partner, who was then busy in actively outfitting him what he sought for at the Walls. On the side, the other couple lied down in newspaper matting, as they provided each other full comforting hugs, kisses, and tight bodily search and hone outs. In a few moments, the five of us went on a binge of staving off our passionate cravings.

I recall meeting the same characters in the succeeding cruises that I did in the area. This process has been endlessly repeated practically everytime I am in the area. This never fails to amuse me to the extent that I realize that it’s actually a crowded place after all, even if there’s so much space surrounding us in the darkness. Basically, we just turn to each other to acknowledge each other’s presence in the darkness. A glance will actually do. Some smile back if I smile at first. Some are surprised. Most will try to ignore me. Some even will dare go towards different paths, as if they could actually go away. Anyway, everybody’s misguided in the area in the first place. At most instances, I was sure these were the same persons I’ve met in past evenings. We just tend to be less excited of each other as good prospective sex partners in the meantime of current evening. Simply, the excitement has been gone, and we move on to some new prospects that can meet those unidentifiable qualities we actually sought out.
* * * * * * *

One recent encounter recalls of someone whom I have met earlier in another area in the Walls. I remember we even had some snacks together, but then, nothing exciting happened between us. I actually thought of him as a good prospect for a long-term partnership. I remember that we must have met each other at least three times. Once, he simply was avoiding my presence. There was even another chance that I noticed some others who were actively cruising after him, as he has this certain physical presence. I remember he told me of his girlfriend who knows his situation. This girlfriend even extends much of herself in implying that she understands him, by telling him she knows what he has been doing, without him admitting anything. I have also gathered that she even knows this guy has had encounters with some other men who live with him in the dormitory.

I recall, he even related to me that he’s an Elementary Education degree graduate and he’s in town doing saleswork for a consumer products retail company. He tells me he drives around sections of Metro Manila, selling various items to sari sari stores. Looking cute in his imposing built, with two rabbit like front teeth, he has remained to be a looker, particularly in that area. He refused my company, actually, then, for I supposed he could see much of himself in me. But this time, when we saw each other near in front of Andres Bonifacio monument, our recognition of each other had to go beyond the usual exchange of hellos. He was on the other side walking towards the short underpass towards Letran College, as he gave me that interesting look. He glanced back at me and I just thought we could get together even for a short while. I didn’t recognize him actually as I followed him in the underpass. We immediately did the works, with him wanting to penetrate me. I was thankful I bought some condoms, but we just failed in making much use of them. He just couldn’t get through me, so we just simulated the act, while he jacked me off. All the while our encounter was twice interrupted by passersby. He was looking at me intently, as I saw him give me the quizzical look of recognition, as he soon realized we have actually met before. I never talked to him about it, as I worked on him. I recall with thanks that I might have come, but sadly, I knew well that he never did. It must have been the alcohol in him, as both of us smelt of alcohol that early, early morning.
* * * * * * *

I try to move on, and not be bothered anymore with these cruising evenings. Yet, after each periodic effort, my attempts fail. Perhaps, I need to be back every now and then, just as to be reaffirmed of my being. I now cover the grounds along the Manila Hotel, as the view along this section offers much more in many aspects.

One encounter refers to someone who sprouted out of the darkness, one late evening, as I was already preparing myself to wait for better prospects. Those who came earlier seemed to look quite uninteresting. I simply couldn’t get going until I saw this one who looked as if he was merely passing by. He appeared in his late twenties, quite big in his frame of 170 pounds, and very typical of those men I see in Cavite or in Batangas. There were many attempts for the two of us to finally get to talk with each other, but at the onset, we kept from talking by settling ourselves to study each other’s presence. He had this tabloid with him, as he tried to show to me that he was reading its contents. Somehow, we overcome the first thirty minutes. This procedure of merely studying each other closely continued until, I went out of myself to speak the first word. He simply couldn’t control himself from showing me what he has, as I noticed the bulge. He was then, very much willing, and we settled to look for a place outside the Puerta del Postigo. The ruins of Fr Blanco’s garden can be seen from a distance. He led me to a space behind some plants. He neatly laid down the pages of the tabloid to serve as our instant groundsheet. I thought we could easily be caught barefooted, in case, someone decides to be there that second just with a goal to catch men like us. He felt free in lying down on what he prepared. It looked so convenient. I felt panicky, as I was unwilling to engage with him at he guided me towards his body. He has then removed down his pants up to his feet, plus his shirt rolled up to his nipples. Soon, this shirt was removed completely as I groped with his body.


We thought we were not satisfied with what took place – he simply couldn’t believe himself doing those things there. I just wanted to believe him, anyway, as the prospect of something new rather excites me. This could easily be a repeat yet I recognize some obvious differences. We proceeded to get into a conversation. We were oblivious from the gazing and surprised presence of those who came passing by as we sat intimately on a bench. Among other information he shared and I got to learn was that he was soon to be married to his long time girlfriend (they were already planning the wedding details), who knows nothing, it seems, about his other activities. He just couldn’t offer any explanation why he is into cruising as well. He offered that it could have been to the extreme excitement that he gets into every time he engages in this. He continues to offer me some info: he’s a roving supervisor with a fairly stable, nationwide company; that he has helped himself get an architecture degree while working with the same firm; that he values his family so much so that he likes to build his own family as well. He told me he dislikes effeminate men. I realize that he is also challenged by the thought that he’s making it with another man who supposedly possesses the stereotype physical attributes. He told me about some men in his work that have accosted him with the prospect of becoming discreetly attached to any one of them. Soon I found out that he gave me a different name, as in the next meetings, he felt the need to protect his own identity from a complete stranger. That same night, we proceeded to engage again with each other in a more private room nearby.

He called me several times at work, as he must have wondered why I haven’t been calling his cell phone. He informed me of his longing at certain nights to receive a call from me. I tried to call, but simply, his cell phone was unreachable by our landline phone. Something was wrong with the connection. We met again and repeated what we did the first time. We could have progressed into something more concrete and stable. I figured this just couldn’t be so as it’s basically an illicit one (though very exciting). I thought I couldn’t be sharing someone very close to me with someone else.
* * * * * * *

As I walked on one night, I got so tired with all the ensuing tiresome small talk and empty silences I got from some prospects. I decided to just allow myself to be cruised by hopefully some interesting fellows. I decided I would just sit for a while along the unlit pathway of Burgos Street. They have just turned off the lights inside the golf range, as it was way past midnight. It was pretty black all throughout except from lights coming from the vehicles and trucks moving towards South Pier. One lanky guy came by walking from the opposite direction of the lights coming from the road. I could see that he looked interesting, though not exactly good looking. Something was within the range of his looks that remind of some naughty events that may yet to come, if I allow myself to get his attention. Somebody was following him, as I get to see him more clearly in his youthful outfit. He sat beside me, I felt relieved. Soon, we were talking.

“Mukhang okay ka naman, sama ka sa akin? ("You seem to be OK....would you like to come with me?),” as I heard him invite me to his place.

I suggested that we just take the taxi, as I understood that he lived quite nearby, which apparently turned out to along the Remedios Circle in Malate. I saw a number of other men who were also in the lookout for some kind of a event, yet they were definitely in a different galaxy of a cruising area, where some different rules of the game are played. Things were turning okay, as I felt proud that I was in for a seemly different night. I almost chickened out when I saw an office colleague of mine standing in a sari sari store, where he was drinking gin with some other three fellows. They were a bit drunk. I felt paranoid. I could sense he knew what I was into, yet I felt, I had to proceed as normal as I could. I just introduced the lanky guy to my officemate, and I thought of buying Coke, just to create some kind of effect. So I just proceeded and followed my companion, just at least for the night, as I supposed.

He showed a cube of a room upstairs, where practically all our sound might get to be heard outside. He motioned me to just keep silent as he turned on the 50 watts bulb above our heads. He showed me some photos from a man to man magazine, which he must have thought could provoke something of the sexual in both of us. I told myself, I didn’t need any of these, as I felt aroused anyway, at any rate. He even showed my some fancy photos of himself, which I was sure was taken from the studio, to make him look good, at least the most correct manner possible that the photographer could create into the given limits.

He got a big cache of other photos from a big black portfolio, as were working on ourselves already, already lying naked in the small mat and two big pillows that smelled of big men’s perspiration. He soon revealed to me that he has a lover, who’s away for the next three nights, as he’s abroad, somewhere in Singapore, doing some manpower recruitment business. I soon got so eager to find out who his lover was. I got to befuddled by what he showed me in the photos – his lover possessed such angelic face in a hunk of a man. I took a long, serious at my partner tonight. His lover has one of the best looking faces I’ve seen in along while, as I saw his pictures depicting him almost naked, inside the same room where I lay naked for tonight. Moreso, he’s got such well-toned skin. I was tempted to ask for a copy that I’d like to keep myself. He just smiled and continued with the works that started with the usual tight hugs and kisses all over my face.

As we were working ourselves to eventually come, I kept thinking of his lover. I kept on asking about his partner. My partner told me they got to first meet each other in Cebu City, where they used to work together in SM Cebu, and where both had serious girlfriends. They eventually got to be closed buddies in a gym, where they got to assist each other in the weights, until my partner for the night went back to Manila. Two years ago, they got to bumped into each other in Robinsons Manila and my partner even failed to recognize his present lover. The friendship blossomed, until one night; my partner got himself enough courage to propose into something more serious. They have been lovers since then. One setback though, as my partner, moaned about his lover’s disinterest to explore other areas in their sex lives. My partner apparently wanted more. He could get himself satisfied enough with what his lover was able to provide him. He knew his lover was faithful to him, and he felt proud of their loving friendship. The night was over in a few hours. I felt like telling him to work on the aspect of faithfulness, as I got wake up beside him in preparation for my trip back home.
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One evening could have turned out to be among the ordinary ones had I not got the chance to meet one big fellow who’s also into drugs, particularly shabu. The minute I saw him along the dark pathway near the Manila City Hall, I realized that he was very much for the taking. Wearing a short polo shirts, he had this cute mustache, and sweet smile, and a slowly balding head. In a second, I actually got to fuck him among the bushes, while no one was coming from the visible distance. He was relieved but he wanted to fuck me as well. I thought against the idea, as we could easily be caught with our pants down. Barangay voluntary security personnel have been doing the rounds in the vicinity lately. He walked and we just talked. I asked how he has managed to keep away from getting caught. He smiled and showed me some money bills, and noted that “everything’s just a matter of money,” in his cute Ilonggo accent. We continued walking until we reached the space where an old white Toyota Corolla was parked. He showed me, and I noticed that the car’s back seat have been removed from its place. We could have easily made headway in this space actually.

He lived somewhere in San Antonio Village near Vito Cruz in Makati City. His bed is beside a wide mirror where we could practically watch ourselves while in the bedroom. With the cold blow of air coming from the airconditioner, I felt sexy and free as my mind went out of its own order. We started watching a number of man to man VHS tapes, that showed everything imaginable, without any recognizable stories at all. This was actually my first chance to watch these kinds of tapes in all their glory without fear of being caught by someone who would come out of nowhere. Looking more closely, the actors looked very mechanical in their approach in the given situation, yet the actors possessed such good and well toned bodies. Most didn’t possess that typical passionate outlook that we expect them to get into, at least, in their efforts to portray this whole business of pornographic sex. Soon as the night progressed into a lull, he eventually succeeded in fucking me in the bathroom as we started having sex again upon entering the house that smelled of a particular dried herb. He actually talked very well, even among other people whom I get to meet in my ordinary life. We were completely engaged in a conversation, about the costs of maintaining his lifestyle, as I went about fucking him again as he moaned and moaned up to coming. Very witty and sexual, he remarked that even Senator Juan Ponce Enrile laughs at his effortless witticisms. That evening ended the next day, when I woke up from the voice outside the window. I saw him got up to open the door from the other room. They were talking. I was soon introduced to another tall guy. They’re friends, and they were then involved in advertising needs of the Philippine Airlines (PAL). These were the ads of PAL which showed the “beauty of the Philippines is shining through,” at scenes after scenes of the exquisitely photographed Philippines are shown. We went out and ate in a Japanese restaurant nearby, as both of them continued talking about their meeting with another close friend, who’s a excellent middle aged, sexy actress who also sings well and whom you get to see performing in TV movies once in a while.

We met several times after that initial midnight to breakfast meeting. I soon found out that he possessed the same first and surname, with the Spanish connective “de” in between. He lived with his old mother on the other half of the house that is separated by an undetectable door smartly place among the décor. He also had a doberman dog, that stood almost as tall as myself, that’s quite friendly yet scary to be with, even if he is around. I simply fail to forget this fellow who told me startling things about this kind of lifestyle that we lead.

He told me about his previous job as a General Manager of an overseas recruitment agency that supplies Filipino workers for assignments abroad. He related to me how he had made it with many applicants who willingly have sex with him at any instance, even inside his office. He remarked about the number of good-looking Filipinos who were just very much willing to offer themselves just as to get employment abroad. I guess, this must have true as well in some other agencies.

Another of notable stories includes that of his encounters with some other young, cool and tall men whom he get to meet in the malls. They usually get enthralled by his smart talking approach, as each of them get to follow his usual details of his ritual. He smiles and appears ultra friendly. He appears helpless and longing. They talk. They drink. He brings the catch to his car. They may get into taking some drugs. And he usually ends up fucking each of them. It gives him extreme pleasure to get to fuck the type of man who has never even thought nor invited the idea of getting fucked in his whole life, earlier. This type usually ends up crying, after realizing the kind of experience he has gone through, as if losing his innocence.
* * * * * * *

The first time I got to meet this chap, he was in complete black attire, from top to bottom, to include an expensive pair of black shoes. He wears the latest cut in hairstyle then, which helped make him looked considerably younger. I’ve noticed that his facial skin must have been treated regularly by a dermatologist, as it looked rosy and tender. He confirmed this to me later. There is an air of over confidence around him yet he was not at all condescending in attitude (unlike some typical fellows who carry that poor attitude on their sleeves when dealing with guys not of their social kind). That first time, he immediately dropped down his woolen pants, as he allowed me to fuck him, right there and then, among the bushes just after the Manila City Hall across the street. It took as a while to get over the act, as he wanted more and more of what I could provide him.

We were talking about his arrival from abroad a few hours earlier prior to his cruise in the Walls. Growing curious, I asked him about the kind of business that he has, but he refused to give me additional details. Yet he willingly volunteered to inform me that he lived somewhere in one of those townhouse units in Valle Verde. He was worried as his old, nagging mother, come breakfast time, would then be asking him again as to his whereabouts the night before. He needed again to work on the security guard of the association, just as to silence the guard from ever telling his mother as to what time he arrived the night before.

He gave me his number, which I actually used to get in touch with him. He was almost always panicky whenever he receives a call from me, typically unlike when he’s the one who gets in touch with me. In fact, we met several times. I even recall agreeing to meeting with him at an SM Cinema outlet in Quezon City, where he gave me a blow job, while I was intently watching a serious foreign film amidst the darkness of an almost empty theatre.

We saw each other somewhere near the Metropolitan Theatre, just across the flyover leading towards Quiapo. He was with another friend whom he introduced to me, as he was delighted to see me again. We had sex, right there and then, in front of his friend, as the strong rains were falling, as were doing out thing underneath a covered space in the space-for-rent of the Theatre.