San Mig Brewery at Dusit is about to close down and Kath decided to round up her people to properly say goodbye to it. So last night, I popped through the double glass doors and was immediately greeted (or assaulted - it depends on which station in life you come from, really) by a painfully familiar sound: "Kapag Tumibok Ang Puso (I think)" being covered by some show band. However, and it's a good thing, that was in no way any indication of how the night went.
Three litters of overpriced beer does have spectacular effect on things, doesn't it? I was surprised to be able to hold that much stuff in me without rushing to the CR and sticking my finger down my throat. Though i do remember taking a piss more than twice. But we could pretty much assume that my memory doesn't really hold much credibility given said alcohol consumption.
By the end of the night, we were playing darts by the bar and it was quite surprising how I turned out to be the best player among us - people who don't even know how to hold the damn thing properly. Like I said, alcohol is the serum for my super powers.
* * *
Kath's people, I first met two years ago during her surprise birthday party. The real surprise that night, however, was the inexhaustible supply of Sambuca that gave me a heartburn that lasted until the next time I went out for drinks. (Yeah, I'm guessing it was specifically the night after.)
Last night, it was kind of surprising that seeing them again had no awkwardness about it. It felt like I really knew them and that they really wanted to hear what I have been up to. "Yeah, I'm working for an advertising agency. (I think I was still with a magazine when we all saw each other last.) Only this industry would be insane enough to hire this," I said while pointing to myself.
It also felt good that I have stopped wanting to talk about the mess that HAD become of my personal life. In between shuffles between the smoking area and the bar, I kept on making loaded statements which while amused them, only I fully understood. Karina wanted to hear the full story but I was only interested in sharing the fool version. Lovely.
* * *
I'm damning all men and building my empire.
* * *
Before hitting Dusit, I was with the Adfor Brats (otherwise known as Ex-Adformaticians or Ex-A.X.). There was a gallery opening and it was all Leo Burnett people. At first, I was asking myself what the hell I was doing there. Good thing, I eventally realized that the people there didn't really care about me as they were there for the featured artists. That and the fact that I was also there to appreciate the artwork, not to be adored like one. I fell in love with a painting called "Self Esteem" which Angel Guerrero of Adobo Magazine bought before i could even start to convince myself that it would be perfect for my room.
There were also homemade toys and we spent the longest time oggling the "Malabanan Monster." It was bloody brilliant. A clump of brown goo made hard and shaped to resemble a super-villain mud-man - it's like "Nardong Putik gets even nastier." I want to buy a Malabanan Monster. But then I noticed that Tanya wasn't really seeing the full brilliance in the art piece so I asked her if she knew what "Malabanan" was. I was only too happy to add to her library of useless knowledge.
Me: It's the siphoning company that empties our septic tank.
Tanya bought a painting and that's when it got comfortable for us to gobble down the free booze like anything. She got wasted and cancelled our supposed dinner at 1521 toningt. Product placememt here: you must try the wickedly wonderful "bad banana chips" there. It's nothing like I've ever tasted, and I think I'm in love! These days, I only fall in love with inanimate objects, mainly because I can forgive them for not loving me back.
* * *
Speaking of Adfor Brats, Grace Feliciano, the bestest buddy every depressed and depressing person should have, is giving me a godson. I'm so happy.
* * *
On my way home from Dusit, I suddenly noticed a red car with people in it waving and screaming at me. It was Em and Earnie and their posse! The odds of hobnobbing in the middle of EDSA. I don't rememeber what we talked about as we sped through the avenue in separate cars but just before I started typing this long and burdensome read, she told me that I drove well. But only after I told her how much alcohol I was on. (KIDS, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I AM A BAD PERSON. YOU ARE NOT.)
And then I explained to her that it's an aqcuired skill every partyboy has to learn. Well, us who were deprived of drivers as soon as we got our licences. But make no mistake about it, it's a skill that I still am working on. The only thing that gets me through is the fact that I am not afraid to die. I just don't want the physical pain that might come with the process of it.
* * *
The gutter along CP Garcia hit Montgomerry, my car. I was hurt for my car. Just like a real lover, Montgomerry takes me to where I need to be and he just waits for me patiently until I'm ready to be with him again. I love riding Montgomerry and he likes it when I work his stickshift. No one has the right to hit Montgomerry.
The damn gutter came out of nowhere and suddenly woke me up just as I was about to hit the intersection. Damnit damnit damnit. I wanted to report the gutter to the police.