THE GUY who tried to pick me up was good-looking.
A little sweaty and dirty, but still handsome.
Do I want to roll on the beach with this hunk?
He’s probably 23, I’m 53.
And he desires me!
So, what if he wants free drinks?
I have P7,000 cash on me, and more in my GCash wallet. Haha.
***
But then, he puts his arm around my shoulder.
And I said, “Talk, but don’t touch.”
I also pointed out the police car in the distance.
I told him that one scream from me will send him to jail.
That I know the police chief (true), and half of the police force (exaggeration).
He got scared so he changed his tune.
***
I asked him the name of the building behind us.
He answered correctly, PRIMA CT.
I informed him that the CT stands for my parents’ initials, Cecilino and Thelma.
I asked him if he knew what the P in PRIMA stands for.
He didn’t know.
He only moved to Dumangas from Bago in January.
So, I explained that the P stands for Peter, and that I am the rightful owner of the building.
Then, a pedicab driver explained to him who I was.
***
I don’t know if he got scared, or awed, or whatever.
He slowed down.
But he said that if, and when, I like, he will be there for me.
He asked if we can be friends on Facebook.
Unfortunately, there was no more Friend Request button on my account.
He followed me—my account, that is.
And to show goodwill, I replied to his “Hello” on Messenger.
***
We talked a little bit more until my car arrived.
My driver suggested that I take the poor boy home.
I said, “But I’m worried about his motorcycle.”
***
The scenarios: we can take the guy by car, leave his motorcycle at my PRIMA CT building, and after hanging out, my driver can drive him back to the motorcycle.
Or, the guy can follow us on his motorcycle.
Ah, if only I was so shameless!
If only I wasn’t so proud.
***
But provocation is not acting on impulses.
It takes so much self-control to be a provocative.
That’s why I’m on top of my game.
I do not get pulled into fights, scandals, or anything degrading.
Because I only provoke, they who are pulled into my provocation become my slaves, my inferiors.
And I reign supreme.
***
Slutty is different from slut.
I can be slutty, but I’m never a slut.
Again, I want those who have slept with me to come out to the world, and own it.
And I have the balls to announce this challenge because I know no one will raise his/her hand.
I mean, I swear they’ll either appear opportunistic and even sluttier.
***
In Dumangas, no one will come forward to say that they had a piece of me.
But to be honest, I had a few since after my husband died.
Only, these one-night stands come to me thinking they could eff me, but I eff them in the ass anyway.
So, who would actually want to acknowledge that in public?
***
And that’s my curse as a gay man:
I am feared.
And I am proud.
Of the 52 offers I had since coming home, I only took two. Haha.
And those two are still limping to this day.
I mean, they’re smiling satisfied, but limping the same.
***
People think that I have sex everyday.
I have that sexy aura around me.
I let people think what they want to think.
To be honest, I can if I want to.
Everybody has a price, and I can afford them.
But that’s prostitution, and I don’t like the idea.
***
I have to be honest, and say that I’ve done pornstars in Europe and America, escorts and prostitutes, just to be able to say that I’ve been there, done that.
And they give me wonderful memories, I won’t deny that.
Unforgettable.
But that’s not me.
Prostitution has no allure for me.
Unless, I am the one being paid. Haha!/PN
