Whatever happened in Bora and CDO?

When in Bora expect them. Shutanginamels.

 

But I didn’t get to meet one. I was one shy lass. Kuping sa foreigner sa Bora. FAIL.

I remember, I was told to spend some time by the shore at ungodly hours because, as they say, the mermaids and mermen would land and touch base. Of course I knew there weren’t any of its kind, only sex for money or the forlorn, the elegiacs.

I had reservations, I can’t walk late into the night. But I was hoping to catch the morning breeze of Boracay after downing some three bottles of Red Horse at Club Paraw in Station 1. My attempt at picking some random men at that bar was futile. So before the sun shines on me, I inched my way out of the bar and looked at the outside environs.

By the isaw stand a few steps away from Paraw was a local police officer on short shorts (read: pekpek) sitting comfortably on a monoblock. I did small talk and treated him a piece of the innard just to start a conversation. Sure I had the hots for him (the sexy shorts did it for him) but he said he was on duty and won’t retire until about four. That was three or two hours more had I waited.  So I whispered he helped me get a money boy, the local kind so I could just hit the sack and put the night to a perfect close.

He did just that. He gestured to the barangay tanod (barangay police) from not too far away and spoke on local speak it was beyond my comprehension. And in just under five minutes, a motorcycle stopped in front of the isaw stand. The boy is dark-skinned.

He said he’d bring me to my hotel some 10 minutes away from the White Beach. I winked at Kuya Pulis. Pimping much.

His name is Marvin, six years younger than I. Marvin doesn’t know how to wear his coat—I said it was Frenzy, banana flavor. He innocently smiled.

We still text. He uses his brother’s phone because he doesn’t have one.

* * *

In CDO, there wasn’t any lays for me. But I’ve swirled into their gay bar, the only one in the city, named Club Hallo. The bar is your usual Timog-like strip bar, only localized and the music sounds more lata. The Hallo boys won’t make for a good viewing except for this particular guy I tabled named Paulo. he used to work for Big Papa in Tramo, at least he told me.

Tangina ka Paulo, he didn’t show up in my hotel after giving him P200 cab fare.

I was duped.

But I must say, CDO boys those on the streets are a lovely lot. Only I had neck-deep work I didn’t get to strut my butt around.