My Blog

the itinerary was to enter the busy quiapo neighboorhood and into pilar hidalgo street to pick up the underwater camera casing i ordered the previous week. the place was a shoppers tale for the camera buff as an array of related equipment and supplies were sold venti-slice less than their mall counterparts.

now a cheap, quick and relatively safe passage into manila's haven of notoreity needed to be drawn, so i perused that the connecting train system would fit the criteria. i knew my way into the tracks as i've used this before to carry myself in and out of school and then in and out of my first work. it would be a leisure trip to memory lane.

going down from carriedo station, i was eager to blend into the human traffic as i carried a sum of money to pay the tab. as a form of camouflage, i wore an old white printed shirt, semi faded jeans and my trustful sanuk to cushion the long walk. a folded umbrella doubled as a handy batuta just in case someone had the idea of amassing the money from my pocket. i made sure the rosary my wife gave was in my pocket. carrying it was a school habit that continued on religious grounds.

the pick-up was effortless and i was soon traversing back to the mrt station from the lrt line. i got down into a parked mrt coach half-sweaty and half-smelly from the mid-afternoon walk. as i enter the train, i grabbed the nearest pole near the exit and leaned my side to rest. i was now gleaming to take this new acquisition to a test.

the train was beginning to pack up with the rest of the commuters. just before the train door began sliding to a close, two boys inched their way inside. they look like they came from a school along vito cruz station with the way they dress and from the looks of their faces. they crammed their way just beside me, and we were now elbow to elbow as the train began to move. i overheard them chatting and the lingo used definitely came from that green university.

now trying to mind my own business, i noticed the taller one reached for his nokia and began texting away. curiousity got into me as his phone screen came into my view. i saw him making a quick tap on his phone keypad which read,

"sex tau. game ka?"

the vulgarity was a shocker. for this boys age and stature, his libido was something, well, un-natural. and then he typed another text.

"cge na kahit blow job lang ok na"

he was about 5'7", a bit slim, smooth and fair, trying to grow a short goatee. he didn't even looked (or trying to look) metrosexual unlike most of his peers from his school, but appeared the average boy next door who just graduated from high school. he looked very innocent. and he was cute. and he didn't look anything gay.

then a passing thought... could he be directing his text to me? a heartbeat skipped then accelerated at the thought. my eyes dilated in a split second. would this proposition even be remotely possible in real life? was i even throwing an inviting stare at him? how could he have smelled this hidden blood in me? this was all too good, err to bad to be true.

"magallanes station."

the PA system went out to signal the first stop. and this was my final stop.

i let a long sigh to calm the excitement, then closed my eyes. my hands reached the right leg pocket and the rosary was first to make its presence. oh my, the heavens are surely giving me a sign.

i quickly avoided the distraction and took out my phone. beeping sounds now began to resonate signaling the closing of doors. i was still inside the train, motionless. instead of stepping out, i made a fake call over my celfone, making sure the voice would be audible in two arms length.

"oy, musta? just read your text man. sige, game ako kung game ka. ano, kita tayo sa guadalupe station? north bound. dun ako baba."

guadalupe as this was a familiar stop that can accomodate a couples carnal desire.

more short talk and then i pretended to hang up the call. i observed for any obvious reaction but he was not looking or making any gesture of approval. he was half-busy talking to his buddy. i tried to close my eyes, now guilt starting to invade me. i was already then, a married man.

"ayala station."

the mass of people began to build up as soon as the doors opened. with the external pressure toiling inside, i felt his slight push. i was facing him and his back was in front of me. by this time, his back was casually brushing my hands at each short motion.

and then a passing thought. i repositioned my arms and the plastic bag it carries so that my chest and pelvis would now be in potential contact with his behind. as the train began to accelerate, the inertia kicked in and a momentary push ensued. i felt the semi firm bulge of his buns. and it fiddled its way throughout the next stop. my little junior now began to make its presence felt.

"buendia station."

a short commotion followed at the stop as the arrangement changed shape to accomodate the inbound and outbound passengers. i could not continue to follow his back so we ended up lining almost side to side. amidst the packed setup, he managed to bring up his hand and typed two letters,

"c u"

i didn't see him sending the message to any of his contacts. a short pause after it was constructed, the draft was then deleted. now i noticed him glance into my periphery. the next step clouded inside my mind as the train began to slope into a stop my angels hoped would never come.