Ponti Punishment
Went to Ponti last night for a dinner / inuman hosted by our very appreciative Unilever clients. The usual Thursday band, Overtones, was of course there to perform along with their loyal Thursday patrons.
But last night, Ponti was unusually packed with good-looking guys. Left, right, up, down, there was a “gwapo” in sight. As pointed out by my officemates Cha and Rio and our GAD Berns. Of course there were hot girls as well, but I didn’t really notice them. I already had too much to feast on anyway.
There was an acquaintance’s friend Mike B., who was my crush and who happens to look like RT, on the table beside us. On the same table was Ian Dy, who thank God does not resemble RT (I’m trying to break pattern) and was with Chesca Garcia. There was this Chinito guy in white who looks like a Korean matinee idol and who occupied half our table when our clients left. There was this guys from Nestle, this guy who went to the same college as I did, this guy from this TV commercial, this hot geek, etc.. In other words a whole spectrum of cute guys was present last night.
You would think that given the scenario, I would be ecstatic. But on the contrary, a wave of sadness and frustration suddenly washed over me. Right before me were my ideal guys. The type of guys I’d love to end up with and be loyal to until the end. The type of guys who will finally be the death of my single hood. The type of guys who will finally put an end to my seemingly endless search for contentment. The types of guys who I can finally be still with.
But in reality, these are the type of guys I can never and will never have. “Of course JC, their straight!!!!” I can already hear my friends screaming this at me. Although that’s true, I’m actually talking about the physical. Whether straight, “pumapatol”, or gay, these good-looking guys will never ever fall for the likes of me.
You can call me cynical, jaded, or pessimistic, but in my opinion, I am just being realistic.
“Awwwww, JC, don’t worry. It’s just a phase.”
Two, three, four times - -yes, possibly a phase. But I’ve been rejected, and worse, ignored for almost 10 years. That’s not a phase, it’s a lifestyle.
So as these guys walked pass me, looking damn good, and my self-esteem started to plummet downwards, in a never ending spiral to hell.
Even the alcohol I drank was not enough to comfort my bruised ego. I just really felt bad. So when it was time to leave, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Some of my friends stayed to enjoy the rest of the evening. I decided to get home as fast as I can. My night was already ruined by these good-looking chaps.
As soon as I got home, I opened a bottle of vodka, mixed it with grapefruit juice, and poured myself a drink while I smoked a few sticks - -at 2AM.
Now this is more like it- - alone, drinking and smoking in my room, listening to my favorite songs and not a good-looking guy in sight to burst my bubble. Just me, the perfect guy in my head, Vodka, and a few cigarette sticks.
P.S. When people ask me why I drink too much,
I always say you can’t blame us “alcoholics”
for drowning ourselves in alcohol when life is so painful.
I drink because the truth is, I’d rather be numb.
But last night, Ponti was unusually packed with good-looking guys. Left, right, up, down, there was a “gwapo” in sight. As pointed out by my officemates Cha and Rio and our GAD Berns. Of course there were hot girls as well, but I didn’t really notice them. I already had too much to feast on anyway.
There was an acquaintance’s friend Mike B., who was my crush and who happens to look like RT, on the table beside us. On the same table was Ian Dy, who thank God does not resemble RT (I’m trying to break pattern) and was with Chesca Garcia. There was this Chinito guy in white who looks like a Korean matinee idol and who occupied half our table when our clients left. There was this guys from Nestle, this guy who went to the same college as I did, this guy from this TV commercial, this hot geek, etc.. In other words a whole spectrum of cute guys was present last night.
You would think that given the scenario, I would be ecstatic. But on the contrary, a wave of sadness and frustration suddenly washed over me. Right before me were my ideal guys. The type of guys I’d love to end up with and be loyal to until the end. The type of guys who will finally be the death of my single hood. The type of guys who will finally put an end to my seemingly endless search for contentment. The types of guys who I can finally be still with.
But in reality, these are the type of guys I can never and will never have. “Of course JC, their straight!!!!” I can already hear my friends screaming this at me. Although that’s true, I’m actually talking about the physical. Whether straight, “pumapatol”, or gay, these good-looking guys will never ever fall for the likes of me.
You can call me cynical, jaded, or pessimistic, but in my opinion, I am just being realistic.
“Awwwww, JC, don’t worry. It’s just a phase.”
Two, three, four times - -yes, possibly a phase. But I’ve been rejected, and worse, ignored for almost 10 years. That’s not a phase, it’s a lifestyle.
So as these guys walked pass me, looking damn good, and my self-esteem started to plummet downwards, in a never ending spiral to hell.
Even the alcohol I drank was not enough to comfort my bruised ego. I just really felt bad. So when it was time to leave, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Some of my friends stayed to enjoy the rest of the evening. I decided to get home as fast as I can. My night was already ruined by these good-looking chaps.
As soon as I got home, I opened a bottle of vodka, mixed it with grapefruit juice, and poured myself a drink while I smoked a few sticks - -at 2AM.
Now this is more like it- - alone, drinking and smoking in my room, listening to my favorite songs and not a good-looking guy in sight to burst my bubble. Just me, the perfect guy in my head, Vodka, and a few cigarette sticks.
P.S. When people ask me why I drink too much,
I always say you can’t blame us “alcoholics”
for drowning ourselves in alcohol when life is so painful.
I drink because the truth is, I’d rather be numb.