Badge of Honor

One dreary Monday evening while walking along the sidewalks of C.M. Recto Avenue a man bullying a frail-looking teen-age boy of about 13 caught my attention.

I caught the boy’s eyes looking at me as if trying to ask me for help. I looked around but noticed that nobody was paying much attention on what is going on right in front of their very eyes.

I am very familiar with most Filipinos behavior; they do not care at all as long as they are not the ones in trouble. They will pretend like they are all just too busy with their business but in reality, they are just indifferent. Some were actually too damn afraid and be dragged into somebody’s business.

I stepped into the alley and slowly made my way towards them. The man, aware that I was heading their way let the frightened boy loose and face me with his right hand in his pocket and contempt written all over his dirty and ugly pockmarked face.

I studied his features--

The man was a mess with blood-shot eyes, broken teeth and a perpetual sneer on his lips that you could tell that he‘s the real thing and not just a lowlife trying to bully his way. His breathe reeked of alcohol as I came face to face with him and I noticed the Sigue Sigue Sputnik tattoo on his right arm.

He accosted me and now brandishing a fan knife that he got from his pocket and warned me to mind "my business."

Suddenly, he lunged at me with the bladed weapon but I was able to fend it off with my right hand and socked him with a right straight smacked into the kisser knocking him down to the ground in the process.

He got up gingerly and lunged at me again but I was faster than him and planted a roundhouse kick that caught him square in the jaw that sent him sprawling down into the pavement writhing in agony.

I figured out that he’s got enough and wishing not to attract any more attention, I turned my back to leave…

Then suddenly I heard a high-pitched shrieked behind me and in the corner of my eye I saw the man leaping back to his feet like a wounded hyena, with the fan-knife in hand and murder in his eyes.

I was able to sidestep his thrust causing him to miss. But on the second try, the knife was able to slice a part of my forearm.

Seeing the blood gushing from my forearm, he tried to stab me one more time but got careless and I was able to grab and locked his hand.

In one clean sweep, I broke his arm, planted a solid frontal kick right into his solar plexus followed by a left karate chop into his left temple.

His face turned ashen as he collapsed in the dirt with a stunned look on his face. I then got hold of his head and twisted his neck for the coup de grâce.

I looked around and saw several people looking at me in horror but did nothing.

They stepped aside in silence as I made my way back into the busy street and disappeared among the crowds.

Looking back now and seeing the scars on my left forearm, I couldn’t help but smile and beam with pride on what I consider as my "badge of honor."

Sweet Painted Lady

One night my office mates asked me to join them to watch a bold show in one of the girlie joints that dotted the stretch of Roxas Boulevard in Pasay City.

Having nothing else to do that night, I relented.

So I went with them and I ordered a round of Budweiser as soon as I became comfortable in the red leatherette sofa and watched the young and nubile girls dancing in the stage.

The Mama-san soon came to our table and asked us if we wanted to have some girls. After a brief haggling for the price, our group was then ushered into the viewing room wherein we can look and pick out the girl of our choice while looking through a one-way mirror.

And boy, they were dime a dozen of the most beautiful girls that one could ever lay their eyes on in this side of the planet, or at least here in this dark smoky place.

After a minute or two of scanning the scantily clad girls all in a row, I picked up number 43; A voluptuous young woman with a shoulder length black hair and porcelain skin who goes by the name of Jane which is I am, sure an alias. In the whorehouse or whatever you may want to call it, all the girls there are using names of every known celebrity that resembles them or so they think resembles them.

But nobody really gives a damn for the men who frequent those places are only after the quick lay that only money can buy. But it adds a bit to the mystery that most men prefer when dealing with girls for fun in so short a time. We were then led into separate VIP rooms and did our thing. We stayed there until the wee hours of the morning and went straight to bed and slept with the smell of Jane’s cheap perfume on my body.

That night I went back I went by my lonesome to that joint and invited Jane to go out with me. After paying the Mama-san with customary bar fee and the “take-out” fee, I took Jane to that cheap motel along Ermita.

And there we did all the really kinky stuffs; the Kama Sutra plus all the things that we know of to satisfy our carnal pleasure until we both fall asleep due to sheer exhaustion.

When we woke up late I the afternoon the next day, I phoned for a room service but the food is not that good so we decided to check out and ordered Buffalo Wings and Pasta in Don Henrico’s along Pedro Gil Street.

By this time, it is now getting dark and Jane must return to the club before 7:00 pm but I prevailed on her to stay with me for a couple of hours more. We drove around the streets of Manila and headed to Isetann Department Store in Recto.

After parking my car at the car park, I passed by the Mercury Drug Store outlet on the ground floor, brought out a fake prescription and bought 3 tablets of Ativan from the unsuspecting saleslady. Afterwards, we walked along the side streets of Quiapo and checked-in in another motel in Avenida.

There I managed to slip the tablets in the beer that she’s drinking without her noticing it and a couple of minutes later she was snoring to high heavens.

I stripped her of her fake Calvin Klein undies, spread her legs and climb on top of her until I climaxed inside her. I reached for her shoulder bag on the side table, put out her beauty kit and proceeded to paint her face with it.

I then untied my shoelaces, got a plastic bag from my pocket and put over her head awhile at the same time I rolled the laces around her neck; not too tightly but enough for her to asphyxiate in her sleep. I watched her gasped a little, until she stopped breathing with nary a struggle in minutes.

I picked her frail body, got the white sheets, circled it around her neck and hanged her by the showers and marveled at the beauty of my masterpiece.

I plucked three pubic hairs from her and kissed her ruby lips before I sneaked out of the motel uncontested.

I went home I a jiffy, took a hot shower and gone to bed with the sweet smell and nice thoughts of my 'sweet painted lady' still fresh in my weary head.

Trick or Treat?

11:50 pm on the eve of Halloween, the stretch of M.Y. Orosa St. in Malate is temporarily closed to vehicular traffic to make way for the street party sponsored by several establishments there to celebrate Halloween- Philippine style.

The place is full of people, young and old alike complete with costumes dancing to rave and techno music coming from the 4 huge Pioneer speakers strategically located on the sides of the streets. The place is one chaotic scene with people soaked in a weird concoction of drugs, booze and sweat while gyrating to the beat of the strobes and music in wild abandon!

On the corner of my eye I saw Medusa the Gorgon nibbling on cheese sticks and hotdog while holding a bottle of Corona and swaying to the noise of Limp Bizkit. I puffed on my last stick of cigarette and flipped the stub on the ground as I made my way to the sea of sweaty bodies with a bottle of San Miguel Super Dry in hand.

I said hi to Medusa and she reciprocated with a mysterious and mischievous smile.

The music was very loud that makes any formal conversation impossible. So, we contented ourselves with just looking into each other’s eyes while dancing and shouting at the top of our lungs with the angry Eminem, this time.

After what it seems like an eternal orgy of loud music, crooked limbs and frowning faces, she gestured for me to buy her a drink. So I went to the bartender and ordered a Margarita and snaked my way back to where I left her and slipping 3 colored pills and 2 E pills into the Margarita in the process.

I gave her the drink and watch her eyes and body as she metamorphosed into a wild and deadly Gorgon as the effects of the pills suddenly flushed all her inhibitions into the wayside.

She gyrates and twirls and turns to the sound and beat of techno music like a maniac throwing whatever cautions that left in her systems to the wind!

Right there in the middle of the sea of human flesh I unhooked her bra and began to lick her nipples. Then I managed to rip her undies with my right hand and finger-fucked her under her skirt while my eyes started to look around to see if anybody was aware of what we were doing. Seeing that nobody’s ogling on us, I unzipped my pants and slid my dong behind her and fucked her wet pussy.

The whole world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors as I climaxed inside her right in the middle of the street with nobody among the hundreds or so of warm and sweaty bodies giving us any particular attention.

We then made our way to the bartender and bought another round of Margarita. I managed to slip another 5 colored pills into her drink without her noticing it.

As she put the lip of the glass into her red-hot and luscious lips I excused myself to go to the john. Instead I went back to the dance floor and watch her collapse into the hands of the startled bartender.

Trick or treat?

Police Bloater

It was already midnight on a boring Sunday when I reached the nearest 7-11 convenience store for some cans of cold beer. I had burned the midnight oil recently in preparation for the scheduled oral examinations three days from now in business management and other academic blah- blahs, a requirement I needed to pass to get my Masters in Business Administration degree from a prestigious institution in Makati.

When my eyes got tired from all the readings, I decided that I need some time on my hands to relax before watching the exciting games of the UEFA Cup at 2 o’clock in the morning on Star TV. The fifteen-minute drive from my flat to the nearest 7-11 branch was uneventful.

I parked my car and alighted from the black Mazda Miata that I borrowed from my sister for the night. The blue-uniformed security guard at the door greeted me as I went straight for the cold beers and grab a six- packed inside the huge refrigerators. I then look around the store for some things to munch on to go with the amber-colored drinks.

I scanned the shelves and zeroed in on the can of imported Planters mixed nuts when I was suddenly interrupted by a commanding voice coming from a plump man in hip-hop clothes and a six- shooter in hand standing behind the glass door panel and announcing a heist!

His other companions who were also armed hurriedly disarmed the lone guard of his firearm and scoops the cash register of the day’s earnings. I stood in silence, surprised at the sudden turn of events together with several other stunned customers just watching the men do their thing.

In less than three minutes, the heist was quickly done and they fled on foot towards a blue metallic Honda Civic parked on the other side of the road and sped away towards Roxas Boulevard.

On instinct, I drop all my stuffs and hurriedly went to my car and decided to tail them just for kicks but they were speeding like hell that I lost sight of the getaway vehicle when I got stuck by the traffic lights on Taft Avenue..

I took a chance and drove off to the sprawling CCP Complex and leisurely cruised at the minimum speed of 35 kph. In one of the dark and unlit part of the huge complex near the condemned Film Center, I chance upon the men, all three of them while the blue Honda conveniently parked on the side street. They were in a happy mood; smoking pot, downing alcohols, laughing and exchanging high fives with each other. One was even lying down on top of the hood smoking in obvious demonstration of elation over their successful score.

It made me smile to think that their happiness will be short-lived as I reached for my Czech-made CZ-75 machine pistol fitted with infrared scopes and silencer from the custom-built compartment under the driver’s seat as I decelerated to a slow stopped…

I pushed down the button of the power window and slowly aimed for the head of one of the unsuspecting punks and gently squeezed the trigger. I saw his head snapped as crimson blood splattered into the windshield. The other two assholes did not know what hit them as they jump and scamper away into the back of their car and pull out their firearms and fired wildly into the darkness.

Their bravado proved useless as they were already on my crosshairs as I again squeezed the trigger of the weapon repeatedly. I can hear the soft spit of the gun in rapid succession and the thuds of the bullets as they hit pay dirt. Their bodies hurled into the air as the force of the hollow- point bullets exploded on their chest upon impact and fell lifeless to the ground several seconds later, a testament to the deadly power of the dumdums!

I left the scene nonchalantly and headed towards the deserted Diosdado Macapagal Highway. I step on the gas like crazy and watch the speedometer reach over 120 kph in seconds as the sudden surge of adrenaline bombarded my entire being.

I drove around for an hour around Paranaque, then Makati, to Manila to Pasay and back to Paranaque like mad. When the rush finally subsided, I quietly returned to my flat and watch Real Madrid beat Manchester United in the game on cable TV.

I fell asleep in the comforts of the sofa bed in the living room and was rudely awakened by the sound of GMA- 7’s Unang Hirit. The hyperactive reporter reported that three suspected robbers believed responsible for a series of crimes in the metropolis engaged the police in a shootout and after a brief car-chase that ended in the CPP Complex resulted in their deaths at the hands of the responding policemen.

They also interviewed the security guard and other 7-11 staff who identified them as the men who robbed them at gunpoint of the store’s earnings earlier. As the face of the supposed Team Leader of the policemen flashed on the screen, I reach for the remote control and switched off the TV.

I just smiled and shook my head at the policemen’s tall tale of the incident.

Speed Demon

I have submitted my irrevocable resignation in the office this morning.

My boss wants me to stay but I already made up my mind. Still, she keeps on pestering me to reconsider my decision to no avail.

So, I packed up my things and went straight to the parking lot and drove off.

I soon found myself traversing the Maharlika highway south of Metro Manila.

When I reach Sto. Tomas, Batangas I decided to eat lunch at a restaurant the name of which escapes me but it is near the gasoline station on the side of the road.

I ordered Bulalo and boy was it good!

After paying the bill, I decided to go to Tagaytay City in Cavite but when I reached Malvar town I changed my mind and so I went back to Manila for some unfinished business.

I am a speed demon. I am the king of the road - a highway star.

In fact, I really want to become like Mike. Not His Airness, though. That's Michael Schumacher for you, the Ferrari world champ.

I was cruising the South Super Highway running at about 170 kph when this flaming red Mitsubishi Eclipse overtook and passed me with the driver raising his left hand doing the finger in the air as if to mock me.

I smiled and pushed on the accelerator and watched the speedometer rise until it could go on no further.

"Heck, my car was no match for this son of a gun", I whispered to myself.

My car a Honda Civic though still in good running condition was no match for a sports car like the Eclipse.

Just when I decided to give up the futile race, I saw him slowing down and when I was about to catch up with him he would accelerate and I saw his face mocking and laughing at me with contempt.

This went on for as far as I remember until we reach the tool gate. I followed him as he reached Magallanes and turn towards Manila and stopped at the red light on Zobel- Roxas intersection in Makati.

I got my 9mm Glock pistol from the dashboard and walked out of the car towards the side of the driver of the red car.
I knocked at his window and as he turned his head to look, I shot him right between the eyes and slumped into his seat.

I got back to my car and sped off before the startled bystanders and other drivers could react.

"Woohoo, its payback time!"

Radio Ga-ga

I was abruptly aroused from deep sleep by the sound of music coming from a radio somewhere--

It was Jim Morrison of The Doors belting out Light My Fire! I looked into the alarm clock and saw 5:45 in the morning. I got up and took a hot shower and gulped down a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee.

But still feeling drowsy, I decided to go back to bed.

“Baby, come on light my fire! “

“Baby come on light my fire!”

The song keeps on playing inside my head until I decided that I had enough of it. I reached for the dial and switched on to another FM station and this time I had The Beatles’ Let It Be.

Then came Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven followed by Hotel California by The Eagles. Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana came next and another by Metallica the title of which escapes me. Aerosmith’s version of Come Together made me get out of bed.

So I put on my sweat suit and went out for the gym to pump some irons. The piped-in music is playing The Rollingstones’ Jumpin’ Jack Flash as I tried my hand on the Nordic Track and the Elliptical Machine. Deep Purple’s Highway Star was playing while I was running on the Treadmill. I was on my way to the shower room when Prince showered me with Purple Rain.

I went home and decided to just lay on my bed and read. I was halfway through The Temple Of Dawn, a novel by the Japanese author Yukio Mishima when it was Eric Clapton’s turn to sing Tears In Heaven that lulled me again back to sleep…

I woke up with a gnawing pain in my belly that I decided to order food from Jollibee for delivery. I was on the telephone when Axel Rose started to wail Welcome to the Jungle and it was already high noon and Dire Straits’ Money For Nothing was on the airwaves when the delivery boy arrived. I had 2 pieces of Chicken Joy and a glass of Coke for Lunch.

Burrp.

I switched on the channel and put the hapless radio on a station playing nothing but Original Pilipino Music...

First on the list was The Eraserheads’ Ligaya from the album Ultraelectromagneticpop! Then I heard Dong Abay of Yano preaching in his now familiar style the song, Banal Na Aso, Santong Kabayo screaming at the top of his lungs. I was a bit amused when I heard Yoyoy Villame’s Philippine Geography and noted that the guy really knows how to tickle his listeners.

I turned sentimental when the DJ finally played Gary V’s Sana’y Maulit Muli...

I again fell asleep when Joey Pepe Smith’s guitar playing the opening notes of the greatest Filipino Rock Anthem Ang Himig Natin…

The sudden burst of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 suddenly woke me up. It was past 5 o’ clock in the afternoon and I think I have been down and out for almost 4 hours.

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed just as the beautiful tune of Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini by Rachmaninoff was softly being played on a piano followed by the Air Sonata of Johann Sebastian Bach and Felix Mendelsohn’s Violin Concertos.

This got my blood flowing as I floated to the beat of the strings in my brain.

It was already dark on a full moon when I heard the familiar tune of Claude Debussy’s Claire de Lune.

I was having dinner of fried Tilapia and Kare-Kare with my landlord when it was Mozart’s turn to mesmerize me with his Magic Flute. Chopin’s Nocturnes made my chain- smoking flowed with ease into the humid tropical haze. I was getting pumped up for the night.

I got my car key’s and turned on the engine and drove out of the garage for a spin into my usual hangouts in the city while the great tenor Luciano Pavarotti belting O Sole Mio as I drive deep into the neon- infested streets of Ermita while i felt the cool breeze caressed my face that makes me really high.

Jose Carreras joined the fray with Maria from West Side Story while Placido Domingo tried not out done with his rendition of a song from La Traviata!

And then I saw my prey in the sparsely- lit sidewalks of Pedro Gil and M. H. Del Pilar standing forlornly and obviously waiting for somebody to pick her up for a night-cap. Well, what can I say but she was quite damn lucky for eventually choosing me.

And the rest they say is history.

The One That Got Away

Watching the Manila Bay Sunset one Saturday afternoon, I noticed a young woman probably in her late teens with rivulets of tears cascading from her unmade-up cheeks sitting on the sea wall at the back of the Folk Arts Theater.

My interest and curiosity suddenly aroused by her presence, I next found myself observing and looking at her in the corner of my eye while pretending to enjoy the sight of the world’s most beautiful sunset.

Thoughts started circling in my mind as to the reasons behind those tears. Nevertheless, my eyes started to dart on her whole being- analyzing and figuring out the reason of her lonesome presence in this supposedly known stamping ground for trysting lovers and gay people alike.

Time passes quickly. It was now 15 minutes to six o’clock in the evening and darkness is beginning to envelope the place when she stood up and headed for one of the stalls selling sodas and ordered diet Coke in can, opened the aluminum lid and gulped down a mouthful of the ice-cold beverage.

I looked in her direction and our eyes met and found myself staring awkwardly into those beautiful brown eyes!

I felt my face flushed and a bit embarrassed and sheepishly my eyes darted from her to the stray cat scavenging for food in a fallen thrash bin by the side of the stall.

But from the corner of my eye I saw a trace of a smile from her lips.

In a flash, I found myself face to face with the young woman and introduced myself that she reciprocated by telling me her name and offering me her hand for a firm handshake.

As we shook hands, a feeling of ecstasy was all over me. We decided to take a stroll down at the end of the seawall while talking with whatever silly things that comes to mind.

I made her laugh with my jokes and in return was genuinely amused with her antics.

Then a slight drizzle began to fall and so we headed to the car park and went inside my car for shelter. I turned on the radio and Salbakuta was on mouthing their hit Stupid on the airwaves.

The drizzle turned into an ugly storm as I hold her hand and put it into my crotch and was quite surprised when she squeezed it real hard.

I kissed her luscious and wet lips as I unzipped my fly. She grabbed my cock and gave me a head while I slipped my hand into her already wet pussy and finger-fucked her and would jolt up in her seat every time my fingers stroked her clit.

She then pulled down her satin undie and sat on me while I caressed and licked her big and full tits. We were doing it for what it seems an eternity when I felt her body quivered and her breath shortened as she moaned and slammed her soft body into me while in the process squeezing me with her juicy pussy really hard down there until I felt my senses going wild and numbed as I exploded into her!

The rain has now stopped as she quietly slipped out of the car and disappeared into the darkness before I was able to regain my bearings.

I never saw her again.

It has been seven months and seven days since and what remains are just memories and a piece of satin memento left in a car one rainy September night of what I considered as one of the best thing that ever happened to me brought about by the one that got away.

#011302

Peeping Time

The day is ending…

I got my binoculars and started to scan the horizon. Then I see her, all alone sitting on top of the ledge in one of the skyscrapers in Makati. I thought it strange to see this lovely girl there all by herself.

Then darkness finally caught up with the sun. Thus, my “peeping time” is over.

I pulled down the blinds of my condo unit and took a shower and went out to watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in nearby Glorietta.

But my thoughts are still filled with the girl sitting on top of the building.

The next day, as is my ritual I again picked up my binoculars and then again I saw here there. And she really fascinates me; I can’t take my eyes off her even from a distance.

What was she thinking about?

Is she a lonely soul hoping to find the answer to her life’s questions by sitting there and looking
at the horizon?

Is she talking to her God?

So, one day I made a promise to myself that one day I will be there with her.

Two weeks after the end of Halloween I decided to pay her a surprise visit.

I was able to enter the elevator without the guard noticing me and landed at the top of the building and find her sitting there.

Slowly I tread the lonely path that would help her ease her miseries.

The next thing I saw was her falling like a scarecrow into the ground below.

Amid the commotion downstairs, I sneaked myself away from the crowd and proceeded to Glorietta 4 food court to have a meal of chicken and pasta.

The next day, I brought out my binoculars and scanned the horizon and the skyscrapers until my eyes darted into the building where the nameless girl used to sit in her solitude.

She’s gone.

Funny I kinda missed her presence in that building and my afternoons will never be the same again.

That night, I decided to get rid of my binoculars for good.

A day or two later, my fond memories of her faded into the jaded Makati sunset.

Just like that.

Playing with Fire

Upon arriving into my bachelor’s pad, I took a quick shower.

Afterwards, I got a bottle of San Miguel beer from the fridge, went into the living room and dropped lazily into the leather seat and switched on the TV by remote control and on came the breaking news - “a raging fire is consuming the notorious Pacifica Hotel in the seedy district of Manila!”

I sat there, gulping my beer and eyes fixed on the plasma screen as the hyperactive field reporter gave an animated blow-by-blow account of the unfolding event on live TV!

The place is a picture of chaos with firefighters, policemen and the usual kibitzers jockeying for positions as the camera rolled into the sweaty face of the reporter, highly- strung for the scoop in his hands while in the process of interviewing the one in- charge of the ongoing rescue operation.

The fire was so damn big and the summer wind is blowing really hard further fanning the blaze. The smoke was so thick you could hardly see the façade of the building. The undermanned and underpaid firefighters gallantly fought the blaze but their obsolete equipment and mediocre method of fire fighting proved no match to the raging hell!

Many good Samaritans with water buckets and pails in their hands tried to splash water with minimal results. The fire proved too big and too hot to handle for everyone around though.

You could hear the wails and shrieks of agony of the people being roasted alive inside the decrepit motel while the people outside could only stare into the flaming cauldron of wood, paper and human flesh blankly.

You could tell helplessness and resignation of their sorry state from the body language of the rescuers and kibitzers alike.

For hours, the place burn incessantly and without let up until there was nothing left to burn...

The death toll was 86; many bodies irreversibly charred and burned beyond recognition. The scope of the tragedy stunned the nation that even if it is so used to tragedy whether it is man- made or natural, it still leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

Politicians seized the opportunity and rode in the publicity as they call for investigation of the disaster. The fact- finding body finally ruled that arson was the cause but could find no suspect to apprehend.

Days passed into weeks and weeks turned into months. The fiery end of the luckless people was soon pushed into the deep recesses of the nations’ memory. The circus and spectacle that followed finally came to an end.

Hmmm, why do I smell smoke and burning rubber?

Monologue

Maybe you will think that I am insane but I am not.
You can say whatever you want to say about me but I do not care.
You can think whatever you want to think about me but it will not matter.
I am no copycat.
I am my 'own' man.
I do not have to convince you that I am the be(a)st.
For I know that I am.
I do not believe in anything.
I am what I am.
I am the master of my fate and destiny.
How many times do I have to dare you people--
Come and get me?
Hehehehehehehehe...
Now, If I happen to cross your path one day.
Well, don't blame me if you get lucky.
For sure you will end up just like the rest- Dead.
I am as ordinary as you people are.
I am young and happy and having the time of my life.
I do what I do best and very good at it.
There is nothing wrong with me.
I neither smell burning rubbers nor hear voices.
The DSM- IV R Classification in Psychiatry does not fit me.
I am as healthy as can anyone be.
My shrink will better bet her life on
Because she is next on my list...
Now let him who has understanding reckon the number of the beast...

--For it is a human number...
It's number is ....

Text Mate

“hu u?” was the reply I got when I first texted Jenny randomly one desperately wet day in December almost two years ago today.

I happened to jumble around the numbers of my cell phone, came up with a working combination of numbers that I liked that turned out into the lucky number, her cp number.

It was my lucky day!

I told her about the circumstances about 'accidentally' finding her number and she accepted my apologies and long story short, we became text mates.

I started sending her messages via Short Messaging System (SMS) from my old and trusty Nokia 3210 cell phone everyday.I was usually the first one to greet her every morning and the last one to bid her goodnight. Soon, she began to reciprocate my 'feelings' through the magic that is SMS and we hit it off from then on.

She was a Communication Arts freshman in UP- Diliman while I told her that I have a bachelor’s degree in Interdisciplinary Studies from Ateneo de Manila University and taking up Law at San Beda College in Mendiola.

I could tell from her messages to me that she was a bright girl with a promising and bright future in her field. She confided in me everything- her dreams, her feelings, her anger, her fears, her views, everything. She bared her soul to me even if I am only a stranger without a face.

And I was always there for her, an eager ear albeit through SMS to listen to her endless messages about anything and everything. I became her emotional punching bag so to speak.

Our exchange of views and ideas on any topic lasted for a time until one day when she asked me if it’s ok for us to finally meet and see each other in the flesh.

For two years, I have evaded the topic but it was her sincerity and persuasiveness that triumphed in the end that I finally relented with reservations knowing fully well the consequences that may arise from the situation.

We agreed to meet at the UP Sunken Garden between 5:30 in the afternoon up to 6 o’clock in the evening.

“I wil b wering a red top 2morow. Hoping 2 finali mit u at lst. Gudnyt”, was her last text messages to me.

I arrived at my apartment at 10 in the evening and took a hot shower.

Afterwards, I went to the bar, took out a glass and grabbed some ice from the bucket. I poured myself bourbon from the bottle. I took a swig while looking outside the window contemplating in silence while Jim Beam’s spirit burned my chest.

I reached for the remote control and switched on the Television to ABS-CBN’s Headlines…

In one of the news report reads, “UP Coed found dead near Kalayaan.”

I got my CP from the drawer and replaced my old sim card with a new one as I lie down in the couch while trying to meditate that was suddenly interrupted when my CP beeped; I got up and pushed down the message pad while at the same time a sheepish grin flashed across my face.

“hu u?”.

Mr. Cool

Whoever says that I don’t know what goes on in my mind is a fool. I am very much aware and in control of my senses and emotions.

In fact I am such a control- freak that whatever I do involves a lot of studying, careful planning and calculations before undergoing a particular undertaking.

And I am very good at it. I seldom make mistakes and err in my judgments and decisions.
That’s why I was never caught and never will be.

I tell you, in a country like the Philippines where most law enforcers are corrupt, inefficient or ignorant about the basics on the proper procedures in investigation and gathering pieces of evidence, I can say that I will remain scot-free for the rest of my life.

You can bet your life on it.

I’ll tell you a story about this girl whom I happened to befriend while attending a disco party in Alabang. She came from a well-to-do family and drives her own car- a black Mazda 323.

We became close friends and became intimate in so short a time. We both discovered that we were both the adventurous type and then would drive around the streets of Metro Manila until the wee hours of the morning.

We would then pass the night in the sea walls of the Cultural Center of the Philippines Complex and had our breakfast in one of the food stalls there. This goes on for about 3 months until I decided that I had enough of her presence.

During one of our adventures, this happened around one cold December morning in the year of the Dog- I decided to finally push through with my plans.

We checked-in inside one of those drive-in motels in Paranaque and ordered some food and beer, had rough sex and fell asleep due to sheer exhaustion.

At 2:30 am I woke up, got my Marlboro Classics leather belt and strangled her with it.

It was so fast that all I can remember was her eyes!

Those big black eyes gouged, that stared and looked at you in blank horror as she finally succumbed to her death.

I then sat on the edge of the bed and lighted a stick of Lucky while contemplating what course of action is best under this particular circumstance.

After a couple of puffs, I flipped the butt into the toilet and flushed it down the drain. I wiped all the things inside the room with the towel erasing whatever fingerprints and other telltale signs that the police might find.

I then plucked three pubic hairs to add to my growing collection, dressed her up and carried her limp body to the garage and inside the car.

I called the motel attendant, handed him a 1000 peso bill told him to keep the change and handed me the gate pass.

I then drove to Coastal road and stopped in an isolated bridge to dump her lifeless body into the murky waters of the creek. I then sped away in her Mazda 323 and proceeded to Bangkal in Makati City where I cleaned the car of whatever traces that police would lead them to me and leave it in one of the streets there.

It was already 5:00 am so I hailed a cab and told the driver to take me to Chowking- Padre Faura in Malate where I have my breakfast of sweet ham and hot coffee while admiring the beautiful hookers who were flocking to the Chinese Fats Food chain to satiate their appetite after a night‘s work.

Then I went home, took a hot shower and slept the day away…

Kung Hei Fat Choi

Tears rolled down on my cheeks as I butchered bulbs and bulbs of Onions in succession.

Just several minutes ago, I sliced the belly of the Green Bell Peppers to minuscule proportions.

The Big Red Tomatoes lying perfectly still on the rattan baskets are waiting for their turn to face the grim ripper.

My chopping board was the silent witness of the fury and sharpness of my blades.

I have labored and worked my butt out since 10 o’clock in the morning.

I have prayed to the gods and summoned all of my culinary skills and talent for this. The occasion was in preparation for the coming of the Chinese New Year.

My Boss told me yesterday in his trademark baritone voice that I will be the host for this year’s celebration.

The timing was really great- I had just paid off all my bills and I only have a few hundred bucks left in my pocket. I don’t even have a credit card in the first place. I am really in a tight fix.

But you can’t tell that to your Boss. So I accepted the challenge albeit grudgingly.

Aah, with a little help from a friend and a touch of Pinoy ingenuity I know I can breeze through it without much problem.

At a little past 9 in the evening, the doorbell rang and I dashed to open the huge Molave door of my Bachelors pad in New Manila.

In came rushing my balding fifty-something, pot-bellied Boss strutting like a Chinese General of yore followed by his foot soldiers- my giggling and boisterous officemates!

I told them to help themselves in the bar as I excused myself to prepare the table.

I popped a bottle of Moet et Chandon and proposed a toast for luck and prosperity in the coming year.

They complimented my cooking and marveled at my vast knowledge on the intricacies of culinary art and fine dining.

We were really having a grand time when the cacophony of sounds coming from the exploding firecrackers outside and the sight of bright and psychedelic colors of firecrackers that illuminated Manilas dark and polluted skies caught our attention.

We all rushed to the window and watched the grand display punctuated with wild merry-making as the effect of the booze began to set in.

Laughter and a staccato of voices filled every nook and crannies of the pad.

I glanced at the old grandfather’s clock in the corner and noted just 5 minutes to the big bang, so to speak.

The Snake was making his graceful exit making way for the coming of the galloping Horse when the final countdown began.10..9..8..7..6.. -when it finally came down to zero, the place exploded with shouts of "Kung Hei Fat Choi" as we hugged, kissed and patted each others back to welcome the New Year while outside the sounds of the firecrackers and colorful bright lights of the fireworks were at a crescendo!

When it was all over, they thanked me for the sumptuous feast and for being the gracious host that I am while at the back of my mind I could not help but thank my friend whose head was being cooled or whatever that remains of himself inside the freezer in the basement for helping me in my predicament.

A true friend indeed, ‘til the end.

Gay Life

One late Saturday evening, after downing several bottles of Miller Lite beer in a local bar somewhere in Makati City, I decided to go for a spin.

So, after paying the tab, I took the wheel of my restored flaming red Mustang 1967 and drove off to a nearby nightspot in Pasay City known for its girlie shows and other seedy stuffs.

“What’s up?” said the man in white cheap suit with a lighted cigarette in his left hand and a glass of brandy in his right obviously a pimp as he rose from his seat and greeted me across the hallway.

I ignored him and went directly to an empty table in the corner and ordered a bottle of San Mig this time and watch the girlie show featuring a girl, no more than 20 years old by my estimate, doing extra ordinary stuff on the floor fit for a circus!

So, I watched her perform and finished her 'acrobatic' set with an amused expression on my face until I got bored. I called the waiter for my bill, paid and left the place.

I climbed into my car, started the engine and for a minute or two just stayed there and pondered what to do…

Then a thought that brought a smile on my face occurred as I floored the accelerator and sped off at 110 kph heading west to Manila and then turned right at Quirino Avenue and drove slowly until I reached the corner of Adriatico where I saw my target in his favorite "hunting ground," so to speak.

I reached out for the Beretta under my seat, put on the silencer, cocked, aimed and squeezed the trigger twice at the heavily made- up transvestite standing on the side of the street while at the same time pushing the button of my power windows down as the car slowly halted to a stop in one smooth motion.

In the corner of my eye I saw a crimson red flower burst from his neck as the dumdum bullet hit him in succession followed by the unmistakable low shriek of a dying man followed by a loud thud as his body fell on the concrete sidewalk face down.

A few motorists saw the man gasping for his life but did nothing. Maybe they’re just being indifferent or just afraid to get involved as is the usual case in a big city like Manila where people just simply don’t care.

And so, there goes the life of the once famous or notorious “Gay” man on this side of the city lying in a pool of his own blood in the dark and deserted sidewalks of Adriatico.

Another dead man on the streets but nobody seems to care as he will surely end up just like the rest as another entry into the unsolved crime police logbook.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

#042302