No. 51 | Bad Date

Manila, June 2018

I did not see this day coming, I thought to myself while waiting for my luggage to come out on the baggage carousel. Somehow, I forgot to think about how I would go on with my life after coming home from Australia. All throughout the year, I had never thought of post-vacation, not since I booked my flight to see him again. I hated myself. Sometime between today and booking my flight to Melbourne, Astrid had already told me to apply to university so I wouldn’t need to go back home after summer vacation. I kept delaying it, and now, it was too late. My mom had already texted me, asking me which airport gate I would be coming out of.

It was a bit of a surprise that my mom was picking me up. She hadn’t done so in the last three years. It was always just my driver dropping me off at the airport and me DM-ing him on Viber the night before my return flight so he could come pick me up. My mom wasn’t specifically in Manila to for me, though. While I was having brunch at the Grounds the previous day, she called me with news. The first was that a pipe burst in the condo I was leasing near school, and that it had caused a flood on my entire floor. The reason she was in town was to assess the damage with my landlord. The second was that my grandparents had bought me my own condo.

I should have been happy. I was grateful, of course, but it felt like I was being chained in the Philippines when I had plans to leave. That was always the part I never understood about them, about my family. They insisted that it was too expensive for me to study abroad, that there were good law schools back home, and that my life here was great. Yet they buy me a condo that cost more than three years of uni even after I told them that I wanted to move. They don’t even like me—my mother, especially. More so when she finally realised that I was gay.

Even my Melbourne trip was an issue for her because I was going alone. Days before my departure, she kept dropping hints that she wanted to come with me. She insisted that she wanted to because she enjoyed how relaxed she felt when she visited last May, how she would enjoy just going grocery shopping and cooking at Tita Vera’s. I played along with it, telling her to come with me if she could still book a flight, all with a smile plastered on my face. It would mean that I wouldn’t have to pay for my own meals anymore, I teased. But it was obvious why she wanted to go—so she could make sure that I wouldn’t go out with boys.

I guess that’s why my mom and I hadn’t had a real conversation since she sent me those emails last year, the emails telling me that she knew that I was gay but that she couldn’t accept that I had a boyfriend. She said she was disappointed, to the point where she’s ashamed of me, because I was paying someone to be in a relationship with me. Since those emails, I hadn’t been able to go out to dinner, even with Astrid, without a look of disapproval from her. I hadn’t been able to host classmates for cram sessions either because apparently, my classmates were more boys I paid to date me. I no longer felt that I was her son. I felt dirty when I was with her, when she hinted that I was disgusting for being gay. I felt the same way I felt that summer when I first realised that I was gay, that there was nothing I could do about something apparently so shameful. It made me want to kill myself.

So it was sad to be back in the Philippines… because for the last three weeks, I felt nothing but love and acceptance. I got the role model who advised me what I should and should not do without making me inferior and irrelevant. I found someone who wasn’t ashamed to hold my hand while we walked down the street. And I allowed myself to walk away from it and to walk into my own cage, as if handing the key to my prison guard on my way in.

July 2018

I was pretty non-functional in the last week of June. I barely got myself out of bed, not only because I was jet-lagged,¹ but also because there was nothing to do. I was no longer part of a morning rush that involved having two kids getting ready for school and at least two adults catching an 8am train to the CBD. There were no more white girl brunches at cafes dressed in flowers, nor were there museums to visit in the afternoon. There was no more seeing Andrés when he got off from work for dinner and two desserts, and no more telling Tita Vera about what a fun day I had. I was right about thinking that something bad was going to happen when I couldn’t sleep in Melbourne because I was too happy. This was it.

Luckily, I had a brunch planned with the girls. Astrid had just gotten back from Tokyo and was staying in Manila for a few days before heading back to work in Davao. I invited Leo to brunch so I could introduce him to them. I was also dying to tell a human being about what a great time I had with Andrés, and I figured that having all three of them sit at one table would save me a few gallons of saliva from repeated story-telling.

“What’s your status now?” Audrey asked.

I just shrugged my shoulders.

“This isn’t like when I left Sydney. Then, I knew I was coming back. Now, I don’t know if I am coming back… ever.” I eventually said after a bit of gateau.

“But you will, though,” Astrid said. “You’ll have to visit me eventually.”

“But you’re moving to Sydney. He lives in Melbourne.”

“Bitch, as if you can’t fly from Sydney to Melbourne. You literally just did that,” Leo said.

“Fine, but what are the rules?” I asked them. I explained that I didn’t break up with him. There was silence across the table.

“Okay, just tell me if I’m allowed to see this boy,” I said, getting my iPhone from my pocket and pulling out Carlo’s Tinder page. Carlo was a guy I started talking to online a few days after I got back home. It was strictly platonic, no hints of romance at all, from my side, at least, while I spent the next months trying to figure out how I felt about what it was with Andrés.

“Eww, no,” Leo said.

“What?” I asked, not really meaning to. “Don’t you think he’s cute?”

The girls shook their heads.

“Okay, do you say that because I dated Andrés or because he isn’t cute?”

“Honey, really?” Astrid said, clearly disappointed. “Why do you want to see him?”

“Because I miss Andrés already. I miss being open to someone, going out to dinner with someone. I had that for two and a half weeks. I get on a plane, and suddenly, I can’t have that anymore?

“Audrey, help me out here. You have a secret boyfriend you didn’t tell us about. You know how it feels to want what I want.”

“I still vote no.” she said. “You know why I kept it a secret from you. You said he was ugly and that I could do better. Well, I’m telling you what you told me. You can do better.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, retreating when I realised that the girls and I had had our first argument. We never had one in the six years we knew each other.

“Am I allowed to say something?” Leo asked, breaking the silence. The three of us said yes in our own ways.

“You should start learning how to be patient,” he told me directly. “Exactly,” agreed Astrid.

“Come on, he’s six feet tall,” I said, trying to sound cute. Everyone else groaned. 

“Fine,” Audrey said. “We just want you to be happy.”

“But Andrés was good for you, and I’m saying you always find a way to get back,” Astrid said.

“He started going cold when I got back here. Our chats aren’t what they used to be,” I said. It was true. I didn’t expect anything different.

“It gets lonely. You’re always working, and I don’t want to take away your free time from your boyfriend,” I told Audrey.

“We barely see each other,” I told Leo.

“And you’re moving to another country,” I told Astrid. “I can’t keep depending on the three of you when I can’t depend on myself.”

Leo put his hand on top of mine. I bit my lower lip, waiting for anyone to say something.

“We know how you feel,” Astrid said. “But go out with literally anyone else.” My face lit up. I opened my mouth to speak, but she caught me and interjected, “Before you say you’re going to call Walt, go out with literally anyone else who’s on your level.” We all laughed.

July 21^st

I had spent the last three weeks since brunch with the girls talking to Carlo. I couldn’t stop. Having a good morning message waiting for me when I woke up was a nice feeling, and I certainly wasn’t getting any from Andrés anymore. This was Diego all over again, but because I was never good at following anyone’s advice, not even my own, I found myself getting ready for dinner with Carlo. It wasn’t supposed to be a date. It was more of making a new friend because I was still confused about the whole thing with Andrés, and I didn’t want anyone to get caught in the middle of me not being over someone. It would be unfair.

Because Carlo lived way out east, he couldn’t travel to my usual first date spot: the mall beside my condo.² Instead, we agreed to meet at the Podium in Ortigas, one of the snootiest, old money places in Manila. I dressed up, not wanting to embarrass myself. He suddenly didn’t seem to be worth the effort when he was an hour late and appeared in a T-shirt and shorts in a hideous shade of brown cut below the knee. Be nice, I reminded myself, It’s you versus everyone else. Make this friend date worth it.

“Carlo?” I asked before extending a hand to shake his.

“Yeah,” he said, going in for a hug. While I was stuck in his arms he said, “you’re much cuter in person.”

“Thank you,” I replied in an awkward tone. “Ready for dinner?” He nodded, finally letting me go.

“I’m sorry for being late,” he started while taking in a spoonful of pho. “I had to wait for my dad to get home before I could leave the house.”

“It’s fine, but you made me go shopping while waiting for you,” I teased. “I got a copy of Call Me By Your Name.”

“I’ve never seen the movie… nor have I read the book,” said Carlo. “But I’ve heard about it. What made you buy the book?”

“I’ve seen the movie thrice, and the way I felt while watching it hasn’t changed even after the first time. I figured I could read the book to crush my heart into even tinier pieces.”

“Masochist, huh?”

“Oh you have no idea,” I said with a wink.

The conversation then took us to him being a masters student in psychology, which was going to let him do a semester abroad starting next month. Normally, I would have had a hard on for guys as smart as he was, but I felt no attraction to Carlo at all, not even a skipped heartbeat at the least when I saw how tall he was, or when he offered me a bite of his ban mhi the way Andrés used to offer me his food. Nothing. I didn’t want to describe him as ugly, but he was definitely not my type, not even as a friend. I understood why the girls said no when I asked if Carlo was cute and not just because the last guy I dated was Andrés. I could see Astrid giving me a look that said, I told you so! in my head. I wanted to leave, but he invited me to a party.

“It’s for Love Yourself.³ I’m a volunteer counselor there. The new batch of counselors are being officially welcomed tonight. It’s free alcohol and a good time with a bunch of other gays.”

“I’d love to go,” I said, not being able to restrain myself from free alcohol even though that night was already starting to feel like a pending disaster.

“Are you sure you want to?” He asked, probably sensing that I didn’t like him at all. “And how do I introduce you to everyone?”

I nodded and smiled at him, then said, “you can introduce me as your date. We’re on one anyway. What’s the harm in letting other people know?” Was I playing with fire?

“I need a coffee before we go,” I said. I didn’t. It was a delaying tactic to reevaluate how I really felt about going to the party. It was late, and I wasn’t attracted to my date, but at the same time, I didn’t want to go home with absolutely nothing happening. Out of distraction, I asked for a hot Americano instead of an iced one, the consequence of which Carlo pointed out when we were walking out on the streets of Ortigas on our way to the party.

“Isn’t it a bit hot for a hot coffee?” He asked, looking at me with a concerned face.

“I don’t know why I didn’t ask for an iced one,” I said, starting to sweat. I unbuttoned my top two buttons to air myself out. I didn’t want to throw it away because I had already spent too much money on it, so I tried drinking it all in one go just to get rid of the cup… one dumb mistake after another. I started sweating through my shirt.

“Are you okay?” Carlo asked, noticing how drenched I was. I nodded my head while shrugging my shoulders.

“We’re about to climb stairs,” he added. I let out a sigh.

Before getting on the first step, an alarm went off on my phone. It was a reminder: Andrés’s Birthday

Did he know that I was on a date? Why did it suddenly feel like I betrayed him? Was Kulas right? Was I a cheater? Was this why this date was so shitty?

Three flights of stairs later, with my entire upper-body soaked in sweat, I could hear loud music trying to escape from a closed room. Carlo smiled at me and took my hand. I defensively and probably too quickly took it back. I smiled at him apologetically.

The heat inside the clinic was worse than the heat outside because it was packed with people—gays in Love Yourself t-shirts, gays in drag, gays in relationships, and gays that looked at Carlo with curiosity: Who was this boy Carlo was dragging along? they were thinking.

I didn’t expect Carlo to know so many people. It took us a while to get to the other side of the room because he kept bumping into people he knew, people to whom I was introduced as his date, as I had suggested earlier. Then, I got the curious looks, coupled with sly smiles. When we did get to the other side of the room, Carlo then disclosed that it was so we can have our picture taken. “Look here, lovebirds!” the photographer shouted over the music, as Carlo put his arm around my sweaty shoulder. I was cringing hard inside.

The rest of the night wasn’t exactly date-y. The music was too loud for me to talk to Carlo. The drinks were cheap liquor served in red plastic cups. The heat was starting to irritate me because I was allergic to my sweat, and I was developing a bad reaction. All the while, Carlo was busy talking to everyone else but me. I couldn’t blame him. He did take time to have dinner with me, and he was nice enough to invite me to an event for something so important to him. I figured that it was best for me to call it a night, as disappointing as it was a waste of a good outfit and one of my last free weekends before school started.

I stood from the porn audition couch I was chilling in while Carlo made his rounds through the clinic, greeting and catching up with everyone. I tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to meet me at the balcony outside.

“I think I should go home. I feel like I’m holding you back from having a good time, and as much as I want to get to know you better, this doesn’t feel like the right place to do it. Can we reschedule our first date?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Please don’t think that I didn’t enjoy this. I did, and thank you for inviting me,” I added to my lies.

“I’ll stay with you until you get a Grab,” he said. I shook my head. “It’s the least I can do,” he added.

Luckily, it didn’t take too long for the Grab to arrive. Standing at the car door, I said, “Thanks for tonight, Carlo.”

“Good night,” he said, with his face leaning into mine. He tried to kiss me, but I didn’t want him to. Because I didn’t avoid it in time, his kiss landed on my eye. I got into the car without giving him another look. Bad date! Call me, I texted Leo. 

1. Yes, even with a two-hour time difference, I felt jet-lagged when I came home. Waking up at 4am every day for a week wasn’t a great feeling.
2. I have a bad reputation for being late to everything, so dating in the mall beside my condo minimised casualties, and if I got lucky, my place isn’t too far away for a fun time. 
3. Love Yourself was the Philippines’ version of the free clinic.