Last weekend turned out to be more interesting than I thought it would be. I totally blame the sudden onset of sugar high which is weird because I only drank about two glasses of Coke that day. If you know me then you would know that two glasses of Coke is way too low of an intake compared to the amount I drank before so therefore such a piffle amount would doubtfully cause me to have sugar high. I am currently trying to cut back on the Coke but during the weekend I drink about two and a half to three glasses a day. But I digress.

Last Saturday night, or more like Sunday morning, I was part of a business proposal brainstorming session, kissed a gay starlet and stormed the guy's bathroom to get rid of a clingy dance partner. And here I thought that the most exciting thing I was going to do was buy a bootleg box set of House M.D. Season 1 (Yes, I know for a fact that this is actually not exciting. I am living a very saaaaaaaaad life.)

Things perked up when JD and I met up that night. He had some sort of art attack earlier that week and covered his cell phone with crystals. I saw the fruit of his boredom and got all excited because I had been thinking of doing that as a business last November when I saw some guy do some sort of craft demo in the third floor of G4. I am not a business oriented person and I certainly have no idea how to even start one but for some reason I did entertain that thought of starting a business and then here's JD and he's thinking of the same thing. Then lo and behold, when we met up with Raver she mentioned that she needed to do a business proposal for her M.B.A. course. Talk about synergy. So we started throwing ideas around as we did the yuppie thing and hung out at Starbucks and before I knew it, we had set up to meet this coming Saturday to go to Divisoria to scope out materials we could use for our project.

We had to cut our brainstorming short since Raver was dog tired from skating practice and whatnot and still has to get up bright and early the next day. However JD still wanted to go out to Government but since I only signed up for just meeting up with him and hanging out, I did not bring any club worthy clothes. Not that it actually mattered since I don't really have club worthy clothes anyway and Raver always ends up lending me a blouse of hers when we go out which what happened that night. Except she didn't lend a blouse. She lent me a wrap around, flowing skirt that JD used as a blouse for me.

JD's agenda for the rest of the night was to go to Government, with me and JZ, who also met up with us at Starbucks just before we drove Raver home. Government is not a shabby place. I know it as a gay hangout but straight people do go there. There won't be a lot of them but hey, it's a lot compared to the straight people who do wander into Bed in Malate which we also frequent. Not to mention, the guy at the door is good looking. A grunt but a good looking grunt.

Not too long in the place JD pointed someone out to me. I thought it was going to be some random cute guy he's scoping out but no, it wasn't a random guy, it was Rustom Padilla. Now, it has long been speculated that the reason that he and his former wife, Carmina Villaroel, broke up was because he's gay. I haven't heard anything that might substantiate such a claim so I just chalked that up as mere hearsay. Yet there was the proof in front of me. And the proof was cute, albeit frighteningly skinny compared to before and gay but, hey, still cute.

At first we just looked at him and appreciated him for what he was, eye candy. But two drinks later, I was feeling a little bold and jokingly told JD that I would go up to Rustom and ask if I could kiss him. JD of course didn't believe me.

I was actually being serious and to muster of the courage to do what I set out to do, I went to the CR which is, not surprisingly, also occupied by guys even though they have their own CR. After the bathroom break, I have gathered my wits and had a game plan. The game plan was simple. I would go up to him and just ask and hope that he's not insulted enough to have me thrown out. Fortunately he wasn't on the dance floor anymore and was just talking to guy who was part of the group he came in with. Glancing back at JD for some support I marched up to him and tugged at his sleeve. Very childish, I know. When he turned around I smiled and said, "Hi, I think you're beautiful. Would you mind it if I kiss you?"

I have to give him credit for fast recovery. It only took him a few seconds to have the question sink in his brain and for him to give a congenial smile at me, giving me the go signal.

So I did. Kiss him, I mean. Not a big deal. It was just a peck on the cheek, nothing more. But yeah, I did make sure to get a hug as well. Too bad I'm still a good girl and did not push my luck by trying for the lips or slipping a grope. *SIGH*

Had the night ended there I would have been happy. But it did not and I made the mistake of agreeing to dance with this guy. I'm not picky with dance partners. If someone asks me to dance, I will, more often than not, agree. I mean, it's just a dance. We dance, exchange pleasantries during and after the dance and then go back to our respective groups. I don't want phone numbers. I don't want to know where they live. I don't really care to know their surname, their nickname would suffice.

This guy did not respect this code. But then, I guess he didn't catch on that there was a code to go by, but that's not the point. The point is that he hung around me after the dance. Started sharing things about him and expected that I share back.

Screw that! The dance is over. GO AWAY!

I probably would have been more accommodating if he wasn't a grunt. I don't mind shooting the breeze with a stranger. As long as the topic is interesting and the person doesn't sound like a complete asshole or idiot, I'm good. But the guy, whose name I don't remember because I didn't care to know it in the first place, was a grunt. I know it seems very judgmental but whenever I talk to someone who sounds like they are butchering the language I just get this urge to correct each and every word they say, which is rude, I know, but I can't help it. Anyway, this guy was so bad at English I started wondering why he just didn't switch to talking to Tagalog. I then started to get a headache from his yammering and excused myself to go sit down and to get rid of him. This didn't work because like an annoying gnat, he followed me.

I looked around for JD and JZ so that I can dance with them and finally ditch the guy but I saw them slip into the guys' CR. Without the protection of my friends and the guy hovering a little too close for comfort, I made a mad dash for the guys' CR without as much as a goodbye to the creepo ex-dance partner.

I didn't plan on just bursting into the guys' CR but I was so creeped out by that dude that I practically ran in there. The second I laid my eyes on JD, I wailed on him by landing a few good smacks on his left arm. He was surprised, of course. And so were JZ and the other people who were in the CR. Apparently, though it is common for boys to be in the girls' bathroom, a girl in the boys' bathroom is not.

Agitated as I was, I didn't care that I shouldn't be there and started flailing around as I ranted, raved and scolded JD for leaving me in the company of some creepy dude. He quickly finished doing no. 1 and told me that I should just go wait outside the CR and that he'll be out shortly. Thankfully he and JZ did finish up in record time. We decided that I should just go outside the club for some fresh air and to hide out from Mr. Creepy. It worked. I alternated going in and out of the club, making sure to leave discreetly when I spot the guy.

Yeech!!

Note to self: Start to screen dance partners.

We left Government around 3:30 a.m. and slept over at JD's. Okay we didn't sleep immediately. We tossed back a few. Actually breakfast rolled in and we were still making a dent on a bottle of wine after we finished off some other drink. So we were shit-faced by the time we turned in at 8:00 a.m. It was great.

Author's Note:

Grunt: A person who I won't be able to talk to about books, music, movies, plays and other pop culture references because they don't know what they are and have no inclination to learn them. They are not witty and their English language skills are horrible, more accentuated by the fact that they keep on trying to speak it even though they are butchering it.