“My Nightcap – The Story of Us”
I was never an advocate of a romance made in cyberspace. As a youngster I have always been a believer of meeting people the old fashioned ways; through proper introduction, then a smile followed by a handshake, which may later lead to a well-treasured friendship or luckily blossom into a romantic partnership. Of course we could still name hundreds or even thousands of other possibilities. Nonetheless, for me, relationship powered by internet server and linked by fiber optics sounds too “tecky” and unimaginable.
Love is just around each of us. All we have to do is exert a little patience and wait for that magical moment to appear. This has been my mantra ever since with my love life and so far it has not failed me. However, a good friend, Mark, believes in something else. I remember him saying while he was in front of his desktop, “The guy whom I will spend the rest of my life is just in this room (internet room). All I have to do is click his name and the rest will be history for us”. I pretended deaf with his statement. Instead, I intently of watched what was on the TV – a Korean show that I fully did not understand. My whole system was not in the mood to be involved with any argument that night, thus, my reason for being hushed - my complete opposite so to speak.
A few months later I was surprised to meet Tim who flew the thousand miles to Manila just to spend time with Mark. They invited me for dinner which I gladly accepted. The moment I joined the table, I saw love in their eyes and felt the heat of their burning lust radiating around me. Now I am starting to believe that love nowadays is only one click away. I was ready to raise my white flag and admit to my good friend that I viewed his so-called relationship with Tim as – a dead ringer of a person having an affair with an extra terrestrial being. I made that phone call but surprisingly did not manage to relay my apology piece. Instead, I was confronted by the sickening truth. Tim has been married for five years and has a two-year old son.
So I thought, after all, I am still right with these cyber relationships.
***
My previous work allowed me to travel to Asia. And because of my unusually friendly and talkative nature, I luckily met and earned friends as far as Europe and the Americas. I made it a habit to correspond with them whenever my schedule will permit me. Topping the list of my weekend activities is writing to my overseas friends that somehow rewarded me with: free accommodation, endless pig-out meals and coffee sessions – morning, noon and night time. It spared me from opening my wallet most of the time. Shame on me! But humor aside, this worthwhile experience has nurtured me and opened opportunities I have never really imagined.
One of my constant email friends is Jean, who I met during my first trip to Singapore in 1999. It started with friendship, turned crazily romantic, then back to friendship where it is best to stay. Most if his letters were simply “Hi” and “How are you” theme and nothing more stimulating nor complicated, this enabled me to reply in a matter of minutes. However, there was one particular email I received January of 2003 that changed my insight and standpoint towards cyber relationships forever.
This is the story of us and this is my nightcap!
***
It was another ordinary Monday night for me having to leave office exhausted - while I headed straight home where my undone bed from last night awaits me. I went online to check my emails as routine. Another forwarded email from Jean, I thought. However his email was different. Jean favored me to meet a cyber friend of his and show him around tinsel town. His name is Beau and he is from London. I have some apprehensions with the request but agreed eventually. Anyway I have full trust that Jean will not bait me with a man-devouring-man sort of company. Later that night, I found myself sending a friendly email note to Beau in a rather business type composition, which is a familiar habit whenever I write to strangers.
“Message Sent.”
I stared at this email notification for a good thirty seconds. I got worried for saying, ”Yes” and go out with a stranger. How careless could I be? More worries tickled my head: Is he decent? Or is he a giveaway queen wearing a projectile bra and stilettos all complete with the ensembles of a true dignified transgender. May be not I guessed, trying to control my paranoia building up in me. More images appeared before my fictitious mind. A guy dressed in black expensive suit carrying an orca-sized belly is waving at me. This image made me smile and wonder how he can possibly view his member without facing the mirror. Then I saw myself having a dinner with a toothless guy struggling to chew his stake with his coffee-stained dentures. What a lovely sight! No way will I last until dessert. My fear of all fears, the person is colored. He is black. I’m sorry; I know my last two lines sounded racist. Nevertheless… I have my reasons that I intend to write on a separate avenue when a muse inspired me, hopefully.
“Knock it off, Mickey and better eat dinner!” I followed what my stomach has wanted me to do three hours ago. But what do I eat? Another one of my instant-food night, I suppose.
It was already past midnight. I cannot sleep. I need a good excuse to withdraw from my commitment with Jean and Beau. Something was not right the moment I sent that email. I’ll do it tomorrow to end my misery.
That tomorrow never came and I am thankful it did not.
***
Beau turned out to be a friend after a few email exchanges. Don’t ask me what happened. May be divine providence interfered during our compositions which made us feel as relaxed and comfortable during the entire getting-to-know-you stage. Suddenly he was a friend I have known for as long as I can recall. Every single word he wrote spelled magic which lead to anticipation which made me longed for more. We were already making perfect harmony before I had the time to prevent emotions to get involved. Why is this? He is thirty five years old and interesting. He stands six feet, two inches. Luckily, he has something between his two ears, which is a must quality for me. More than anything else, he writes with his heart. That’s what matters most. The true test of sincerity does not solely mean you have to see eye to eye, rather, during the unguarded moments a soul feels most vulnerable.
We talked about our past relationships, life’s daily routines and our penises. Believe me, we did! Everything was spontaneous and unstoppable. The next thing I knew we were already moaning on both ends of the telephone line while we fondle ourselves to climax. At age 27, I had my first, legitimate (previous were faking it!) experience of sex on the phone. We talked for a while after that encounter. I noticed he’s quite liquored up from the way he talked. Is this habitual? I wondered and felt worried all the same. I made an honest to goodness opinion, “I guess the reason why you phoned is because you are drunk and horny.” Then I heard him sobbed. I hurt him and that made me feel guilty, at the same time worried on every single account that unfolds right before me. I care for this guy. In fact, I more than care at this point. I am falling in love with Kevin or should I say My Beau (a nickname I gave him but not sure if he prefers it).
Mark wherever you are! Call the cyber police for I am guilty of cyber romance.
10 days… 4 days… then the afternoon of his arrival came. I was as nervous kid attending his first day in school while I watch my Mom slowly disappear from the campus. This is not my comfort zone nor is it my cup of tea. Another swift glance at the clock and it is now five in the afternoon. I cannot leave what I was watching – tennis match between Andy Roddick and Marat Safin. Both were playing marvelous tennis and you cannot help but be amazed with the strokes and angles they could create with their rackets. A game I just cannot miss especially when Andy is hitting eighteen forehand winners on second set alone. Half an hour after five, I took a shower. I should have known better! No way could I ever dress up in thirty minutes or less. I am late for my six in the evening rendezvous with Beau. I felt my heart pound from my neck. My paranoia again struck me – seeing vividly the images of the drag queen, orca-belly and the guy with the bad denture. What if he is a gorgeous ax murderer? Impossible! I am no expert with these matters, and it obvious. My left boot almost flew in front of me because I left it unzipped while I hailed for a cab. Suddenly I was looking at an inverted digital watch on my wrist. Welcome to “Twilight Zone” present, Mickey. I was suddenly orbed to a land where common sense and reason never at all existed. Will somebody please send me back to planet earth!
I arrived at the Manila Peninsula 15 minutes late. An obese, Asian looking guy welcomed me and said “Hello” while I searched for a place to wait. “Please God; I have been a good to you and with the rest of humanity. I hope that is not Beau”. And indeed it was an answered prayer! The moment I found a comfortable seat, my mobile rang. I immediately wanted to throw my phone but noticed a different caller ID – it was my friend, Dianne. I lit a cigarette while I continued to counsel a friend who desperately needed a hard slap on both cheeks to wake up. I cannot count the time his boyfriend ditched her in favor of a good sex with another woman. Matters of the heart were her favorite topic and this required a serious and longer time to talk, which I did not have at that moment. My own matter of the heart was more important so we agreed to talk later than night.
As I stubbed out my cigarette on the glass ashtray, a voice in me sent a message right through my heart which ended all my worries and doubts. How many times in our lifetime will we feel emotionally as well as mentally connected with a person without having a glimpse of his physical attributes? Not everyday for sure. What happened between Beau and I could not be explained, not even in a thousand words. He made me see what is inside his thoughts and his heart. It was clear that I have been to him as he has been to me. I love this guy and that what counts. No drag queen, orca-belly or even a badly dentured guy could top me from wanting to be with him and watch the sunrise as we wake up in each other's arms.
It was already seven in the evening but not a shadow of Beau. However as I toured my head around the hotel lobby, there sat across me is a guy in yellow shirt, light blue denim complemented with a brown leather shoes. He looks interested in me but it was not clear from his stare. Our eyes locked but I immediately quit and looked at my mobile pretending to have a business. I was never good in the art of flirting. I am not one of those who could throw an Academy-winning flirtatious move. But could that be Beau, My Beau? It is too good to be real. He is the total opposite of my sick and playful mind, I wonder. The man is beautifully gorgeous. Pretending that I was looking on something else, I allowed my peripheral vision see “yellow man” who seemed to be enjoying his drink. He is still intently looking, however, this time he is making his stare more obvious for me to notice. Then I concluded that this guy only wanted an easy hook up and I am the least person interested.
Reality check, where is Beau? It was seven in the evening and I was really famished. I have to decide now. If there is no phone call or any Beau who will appear thirty minutes from now, I am leaving the hotel and will reward myself with a decent buy back meal. I added a few more nails to my coffin by lighting another stick of cigarette to kill time.
Another ten minutes passed.
I wonder where “yellow man” is. He left his table and I could not locate him. May be his “night and shining pick p guy” has already arrived and they are on their way for a fabulous sperm salvation night. Obviously my boredom was doing me no good for I am now imagining situations I should not be. Should I start counting flying sheep in my head while I eternally wait for Beau? That is way pathetic.
I left my table and headed straight out of the hotel. What on earth happened? May be his flight was delayed? May be he lost my mobile number and could not contact me? May be he saw me from the lobby, did not like what he saw and left? Or may be I should stop wondering and think of where to eat. The last “may be” proved to be more realistic at this point as my stomach blatantly made a sound.
It was less than a minute after leaving the hotel when my mystery man phoned. So which of my maybes was right? It was none of the above I later confirmed as we went on with our discussion.
“Hi, Mickey!” It was Beau’s usual friendly voice. “Are you the guy in red shirt? His second line was uttered in a very confident but with a shade of uncertainty tone.
“Yes, that was me!” I answered while I momentarily stopped and headed straight back towards the hotel façade: not really knowing what will happen next. “And are you the guy in yellow?” My question was full of wish and I wondered if he noticed it from my delivery.
“Yes, that was me!” He confirmed.
Yellow man is my Beau! And after all, there is no “night and shining pick up guy.” I wanted to shout and chew my mobile phone with his confirmation; but I somehow managed to contain myself and went on with our discussion.
“Just stay where you are and I will follow you.” He suggested.
It was a collective whoop of relief and joy, wherein the shadow lands of my fictitious mind turned into a new break of dawn. The long wait is over. This is the moment I used to call, mistake, but instead turned out to be one of the beautiful memories in life why we all want to live it. The cyber person I met a few weeks ago transformed into a mind, body and soul self portrait who stood before me. I wanted to wrap my arms around him the moment I saw those expressive eyes and beautiful smile. I needed a hand cuffs right at that moment to strain the wild thoughts building up in me.
It was already eight o’clock and we a still have no idea on where to go and have dinner. We walked for a while but eventually decided to go back to his hotel where we could have a nice and quiet meal as we talk some more. I’ll be honest, I was not as comfortable as I wanted myself or imagined myself to be; I was the less talker, less opinionated, less inquisitive one and was the brainless kid from the block. I was withering like a tomato under the sun.
Beau invited me in his hotel room and all I could do is wear my devilish smile (I’m always good at this). It is time to decide. And I better make it quick.
***
As we entered the hallway of his room, I saw his luggage where it was suppose to be. Everything seems to be in proper order from the way I see them. But again, he has not spent much time inside his room since he just arrived from his trip. Too soon to tell, I thought. He ushered me to his mini den where we sat on a separate sofa, not across each other, but rather in an “L” shape sort of seating arrangement.
“So how come you didn’t approach me back at the lobby?” I curiously asked. This time I am beginning to hear my usual self. After a few minutes of talking to Beau, I was able to reconnect the three personas of cyber man, yellow man and my Beau. They are all but the same anyway.
He gave me that killer smile again before he explained. At that moment I wanted to tell him abruptly to quit doing it before I jump and kiss him the next time he does it again. “You know, you look entirely different from the picture you sent me. But I noticed you were the only person who seemed to be waiting for somebody. I wanted to approach you but I was not sure because you really look different from the picture.”
“Okay. Why did not you call me much earlier? You have my mobile number anyway.” I continued. Now I can proudly say that I am back with my old self - talkative and totally the opposite of being oblivious.
“I wanted to, but the phone I am using is company owned. We are only allowed to use it during an emergency. But the moment I saw you walked out from the hotel, I knew I needed to call you right away. I will just come up with a good excuse why I used the phone.” This was Beau’s explanation and it sure did make full sense to me.
“I don’t get it. What do you exactly mean by, I look different from the picture? Is that good or bad? ‘Coz for me I just look the same.” I have wanted to ask this but I knew the timing should be right. What best timing could there ever be if you are already running of things to say.
“Oh, believe me, in a very good way! You look dark on the picture you sent me. I like your color just it is now. Don’t ever change it." He ended his talk with that killer smile again. Damn! “Why don’t you stay next to me?” He offered as he motioned his right hand on the space next to him.
“No, I am okay here." I politely answered. Actually, I wanted to say, “Why don’t you stay next to me instead.” But I guess it was too late to change my answer at that point. But
But Beau has something else on his mind. He moved closer and seated next to me. We were only inches apart and I could feel his right leg next to mine. I realized that we were no longer connected by any fiver optics nor were we powered by any internet provider. What joint the two of us was pure and unparalleled emotional attraction topped by physical wanting only the two of us could link.
“Mickey, listen to me. If it is just sex, I can get that anywhere, anytime. Just, on my way to the hotel, the cab driver asked me if I wanted some fun. I declined it ‘coz that is not what I want. This is what I want. However, if you feel you are not ready now, I will respect that and will wait for you. I will come back for you.”
That does it! Let’s forget about morals! There were no words that came from my mouth after that. I started to kiss him and tightly wrapped my arms around him. I felt his heartbeat next to mine as I closed my eyes and savored the moment that unfolds that evening. I have vividly imagined this moment in my head on many occasions. But this time was different – for it was real in every sense. We were one and in synched with each other as we explored our bodies. Nothing else really mattered… every moment was right. But I knew I needed to stop. Something is too wrong. As we fumbled on top of the bed, I noticed that my shirt started to get all wrinkled up. How on earth will I go home wearing a shirt that look like it was freshly gathered from the drying machine?
I am the mother of all vanities! And my Dad was right with that commentary.
I left Beau alone on the bed as I made my way inside the bathroom. As I looked around his bathroom, I realized I did not know what to do. May be my vanity was my greatest excuse to stop and re-evaluate my actions or is it just pure, straightforward vanity?
Try to picture this… Somebody just excused himself to go to the bathroom, then after five minutes he resurfaced in front of you clad in a white, complementary bathrobe that is undeniably twice his size. And the more it gets outlandish as you look further down to see the person wearing a pair of black socks. Not really the sexiest image to impel if your purpose is erotically apt and ultimately attain sexual relations with somebody for the first time. But lust defies all fashion statements. Beau and I brought the experience up a notch level and continued with our agenda. We would not need any of our clothing anyway. But somehow I decided to keep my black socks on. A reminder of the fact that once upon five minutes ago, I was inside the bathroom not knowing what to do.
***
Our next meeting took place at the same venue. However we had a mission – a mission to buy condom.
The drugstore was full of customers at that time. But it would not stop us from achieving our mission for the night. Beau and I surveyed the store in searched of a “rubber ducky” (condom). But we cannot find a piece. So ironic at times, just when you needed it, it does not come on handy. Another good look at the stands around us, there was none. This mission is getting to be harder that it seemed. However, as I always say, “no shame, no gain!”
“Miss, do you have rubbers?” I asked the sales lady with dignity and courage. After my inquiry, a lady customer who stood beside me studied me like a new found organism needed to carry on the process of human life. I wanted to shove my fist inside her half opened mouth.
“What do you mean rubbers?” The sales lady looked at me with complete innocence as I stared at her bewildered face. I wanted to lecture her with my innuendoes like: a rubber is the plastic sheath men wrap on their erect penis to prevent venereal disease from spreading, a rubber is the best prophylactic ever invented by men to save the human race, a rubber is a piece de resistance of a man who opts to have sex with another man. Instead, I handled the situation like a complete adult who has a bigger mission in life than educating a sales woman in safe sex.
“Gaga, (silly) I mean condoms.” I answered in a matter-of-fact tone and attitude.
“Nandun’ yung mga condoms sa dulong estante, sa may harap ng salamain (the condoms are at the far end of the strands in front of the glass wall). I was not expecting a very obvious assistance from the sales lady. She pin pointed where the condoms were and went on to assist the remaining customers. It was business as usual for her. As if nothing very nauseating happened.
I did not bother to say my thank you. She did not deserve one, I believe.
Beau stayed in Manila for six days only. It has been a year now since we first met and last saw each other. Amidst the thousand miles, we have high hopes of being together one day; living as one, sharing magical and not-so magical moments and having more of the “bathrobes” and “condoms” experiences. Our story is a testimony and a living proof that computer enhanced relationships could still exist if the basic elements of love are well defined and practiced. We could always settle for what is less and available, but should later achieve the best out of patience and will. In the meantime, the little time Beau and I had together will always be my nightcap and this story of us will last me a lifetime or until the time we make the rest of our dreams together come true.
