You're just pulling our leg, right, Bots? Right, Bots?" Raul could not believe his friend could be that naive. Paulie, the third guy in the group did not say anything. He was, at least at first, a silent observer.
The Embassy Hotel dining room was empty except for the three and an older balding expatriate with a date young enough to be his grandchild.
"Caretaker?" Paulie thought.
Tuesday night was always a slow night in most restaurants in Butuan. The sluggish economy was not helping any. The hotel used to be a hospital and this was where Fr. Robert was born thirty-two years ago. Dinner consisted of crispy fried chicken, curry-flavored mixed vegetables, kare-kare, and a bowl of steaming miswa soup, the restaurant specialties.
Robert Lopez, Pablo Alvarez, and Raul Castillo were a triumvirate. They were the best of friends. They had been close friends since childhood. The strangest thing was that they had entirely different personalities.
Botoy was shy, a romantic, who was scared of the opposite sex. He would stutter whenever he encountered a girl he liked and when forced into a conversation with her in the hallways of the Urios High School. Religious, timid to a fault, he always avoided confrontation. The school bullies enjoyed harassing him but always ended up frustrated because he would only smile back at them.
Paulie was the debonair extraordinaire. Tall, handsome, articulate, a born politician, he could talk a baby out of his pacifier. Always speaking in a soft voice, just a decibel above a whisper, the lasses could not help but be helpless victims. He was always surrounded by pretty fans straining to hear him and he never ran out of dates, always the center of attention. Even the other guys liked to hang around with him. He tolerated alcohol like a sponge and never misbehaved while drunk, always the guy who drove everybody home after a drinking spree.
The third side of the equilateral triangle was Raul. Several of his elementary school teachers used to complain about him. Suspected to have been suffering from Attention Deficiency Hyperactive Disorder during his younger days, Raul was fidgety, impulsive, and inattentive, prone to indulging in fantasies and day dreams, seemingly in a different planet, a world of his own. He was tough and he always ended up the protector of his two friends. Nobody would dare mess with them when he was around. And everybody was completely taken by surprise, when, during their sophomore year, he was found to have an IQ bordering on genius during a city-wide high school IQ examination. He topped the exam with an intelligence quotient of 162.
"Really guys, I don't know what to do."
Paul could see how bothered his friend was. "Bots, just tell me truthfully, do you even like this woman?"
"I...I...I really don't know!"
"Great! You don't know?" Raul was playing with the rubber-band that held his unruly hair in a pigtail fashion. "Well, if you don't know if you like her, does she at least turn you on? You know what I mean?" Raul was moving both his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
"Yes."
"Yes what? That you know what I mean or that she turns you on?"
"I'm having fantasies about her." Father Robert sighed helplessly.
"Oh, crap!" Raul murmured sourly. He saw that his friend was suffering.
"Okay, let me see that note again." Paulie extended his hand and arm across the table over the plate that contained the remains of their order of fried rice.
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"PPA at eight o'clock Thursday night. I'll be alone."
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The Philippine Port Authority office is located at the end of G. Flores Avenue, near the Post Office. It has a long span of concrete walk and a lot of the senior citizens would go there in the early morning for walking or jogging. It is also where the public pumpboats from Magallanes dock to discharge and to take on new passengers. It is almost completely devoid of people at night except for occasional lovers or disoriented drunks.
"Are you going?"
"I don't know."
"It's only two days away."
"Yeah."
"Did you tell your boss yet?" Raul butted in.
"Boss? Oh, you mean my religious superior? Nah, I'll do that when I go to confession."
"Confession? Why can't you just confess to yourself?"
"It doesn't work that way."
There was a long awkward silence.
Paulie burped a loud one. "Aaargh! I'm so full! I think we need to wash the food down with a couple of beers." It was obvious to him that Fr. Robert was getting pensive, just sitting there, staring at the chicken bones. He always knew when the young priest's mood was turning dark, even when they were still in short pants.
Raul caught on immediately. "Yeah, let's go to the Dungeon. Geez, we have not been there forever. Hmmm, I wonder if my "pinangga" Carmelita's still around."
Carmelita was everybody's favorite. She would have been an executive, given the chance. She had this air of sophistication and an aura of confidence such that the other girls looked up to her. In her early thirty's, one would think she was still 25 years old just by looking at her. When she talked, she had a peculiar accent, French or Germanic, and everyone wondered where she came from. She looked like a Filipina with some other race mixed in. And she was the "matrona" of the karaoke bar, in charge of keeping the entertainers, the GROs, in line.
The Dungeon was not really a dungeon but the boys called it that because it was always dark there. Located at the bottom floor of the Caraga Hotel, it was the favorite karaoke bar of the well-to-do locals, the balikbayans, and the PNP. It was not just a bar in the real sense of the word because it had enough seating room for fifty guests. There is a big screen and the acoustics left nothing to be desired. An attempt at levity, there was a sign in big bold red letters "SINGING MY WAY IS HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH."
Up the staircase are several rooms for private affairs, each room air-conditioned, each room equipped with the latest sing-along e technology, each room with its own comfort room, a tempting sofa, a cozy loveseat and a utilitarian coffee table.
That night, there were more female entertainers than patrons, some of the Guest Relations Officers drowsing on chairs or sofas. The younger ones were all made up, all looking luscious in their tight fitting attires, all ready for business, although the manager, Ramon Varias, insisted on propriety - no fighting, foul language, no yelling, and absolutely no hanky-panky.
Paulie flashed his famous smile at everyone as they went in. He discreetly pressed a hundred peso tip on the palm of Bob Rosal, the head bouncer, and waved a hand at Carmelita who immediately smiled back and came forward to meet him.
"Good evening, gentlemen. What is your pleasure tonight? Your favorites are all here." She smiled with friendly reservation as she pointed the girls out to the threesome -
Desi (the desirable), Lolita, (the voice), Erlinda, (the doll), Emelita and Marie Juana, (the exotic sisters), Alfreda with the laughing eyes.
"Paulie, did you bring the dogs?" Raul whispered to his friend. (Dog was their own term for condom.)
Paulie did not answer him directly but instead spoke to Carmelita, "I think we'll just go stag tonight. Just have someone start the air-con and adjust the sing-along machine."
Botoy looked away from Alfreda's hypnotizing eyes, thinking as he took the first steps up to the second floor, "Oh, the good old days."
"Oh, well, just bring us a dozen San Migs. And if you have any siete viernes, send up a jug." Raul's face was a picture of disappointment.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or places is entirely coincidental.
Featured Image: Route 6 Iowa
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The Way to Paradise - Part 1
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