The Body Breaks

After consuming two beer towers at Mooon Cafe, my college batchmates and I went some place louder and wilder. We ended up in this new club in the city's notorious party district.

And then in the darkness filled with intoxicated people, someone says, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. What's your name?" I don't like it if I can't put a name to a face. I find it insulting to others who can actually profile me.

"_______." A pause. The noise and the alcohol weren't much help in trying to locate a memory.

"Umm . . . Doesn't ring a bell. Where are you from?"

"Butuan."

"Butuan? Oh, right!" One of those people. It was so awkward. But it would've been a lot worse if I had not drunk beforehand. It's moments like his when you know that alcohol is, in fact, essential in the affairs of men. "I remember now! I had no idea you were so tall!" Tall people have always fascinated me. I'm really curious about what they see up there.

My hand was held and I was led towards the bar. We talked, the way drunken people do: with half-thought-of words, random touching, and some kissing. Like most people, I fall for face value. Like most people, I lose myself in another person's kisses. Like most people, I don't think before I act. And like most people, I blame it all on alcohol, when in fact, I was still sober enough to walk away and worry about being seen by my students who were also in the same club that night. So I did the only human thing possible: I merely reacted to stimuli. I did not initiate anything. I have always relegated myself to the role of being the one who responds. I just let myself get drowned in the moment. It was the only reasonable thing to do.

"Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"To your place."

"What??" Alarmed. "We can't. My brother's there. And it's a really small apartment."

"I don't care. Let's go."

"What about your place?"

"No, we can't. Let's goooo."

And I let myself get dragged along. I left my friends (and my cousin) behind. They'd understand. Friends should never stand in the way of a comrade who's about to get lucky.

We rode a taxi. There was much heat. And then a brilliant idea: "I know a  good place where we can go." I surprised myself. Why was I acting as if I've done it all before? Why was I acting like such a pro? I kept ignoring the voice in my head saying, "You are not ready for this. You will never be. Remember what happened the last time? You are never emotionally suited for things like this." But I was defiant. Maybe this time I'd be able to handle it. I'm a lot older now. Feeling assured, I shrugged off the thought that this was going to be one of those kinky one-nights that I'm gonna be obsessing about the morning after.

And I was right.

But in toto, yo it wuz uh pimp-tight night you know das right!