Friday, April 1, 2011
Happy Birthday to me
The Batchoy Boi turns a year older! Happy Birthday to me!
The party’s over. I had it days before my actual birthday. The few remaining celebration for the day were also over and done with – coffee, dinner and then some. The deluge of text messages trickled about three hours before and those posted on my facebook wall have all been replied to. So I am left to myself. I wanted it this way – for me to be with myself for the remaining hours of my birthday. I wanted to celebrate the last trickles with the most important person in my life – my own self. So there I was at a bar. The band was still playing. I bought a bottle of shandy. I don’t drink really, and I just wanted to take it slow and easy and just be with myself. I stood by the counters sipping my drink. I saw you look at me. You were with your friends. There were six of you. Let’s just say, you were my type; Chubby flubby, fair, chinkiy eyes, cute lips and ahmmm… dimpled cheeks. Just perfect. Except for one thing – your girl's arms were wrapped all over your arms. Oh well. continue listening to the band. You continue staring. I tried catching your stares but you would casually look away when I try to. Your girl clings obliviously.
Inevitably, the band called out my name. They greeted me. How could they not. I’m a band boy. They called me over to jam a song or two. I feel you look at me as I approach the stage. I sang a couple of songs. I’m used to this. As I said, I’m a band boy. I know you were staring at me while I was performing. I could tell. I was looking your way. After my songs, I got back to my spot. You were scribbling something. Then, you handed it to the waiter. Two songs later, I was called back by my band friends. Somebody requested a song, and I was requested to sing it. I was in good moods, so I gladly obliged my friends. I am so sure it was from you. I saw you smiling as I was singing the two songs you requested. Luckily, I knew the songs. When I finished, I was surprised to see a fresh bottle of shandy and a plate of food on the counter. There was also a slice of cake. The waiter informed me it was for me. I said I didn’t order these. He said it’s on the house. I doubt it. This must have come from you. I saw you smile. Your girl still held your hand. I smiled deep inside. Well…Happy Birthday to me.
A few minutes later, your group left. Oh well… about half an hour later, I went to the comfort room. I went inside one of the cubicles. When I finished peeing, you were there inside the room too. No one else was inside. I smiled at you. You smiled back and said ‘Happy Birthday singer boy. Great performance.’ I said ‘thank you, did the food and drink and cake come from you?’ You just smiled. ‘Why are you alone on your birthday?’ you asked. I said I just want to be and asked ‘where’s your friends, I thought you left earlier?’ You looked into my eyes and gave me a warm smile and said ‘Isn’t it obvious why I came back? You looked lonely. No one should be lonely on his birthday night.’ I thought, goodness, I feel thrilled and this is a badly written screenplay of some cheap Pinoy romantic flick. Where the hell were the people who were supposed to come in and use the toilets? This is so contrived! But your chinito eyes, they stir a longing in me. I responded, ‘but your girlfriend…’ I wasn’t able to finish my question because somebody came in. We tried to act casually.
The guy went straight to one cubicle and as soon as the door latched, you grabbed me, hugged me tight and pushed me back into the nearest cubicle. Your eyes danced with mischief as your tongue probed mine. I got instantly stiff. We kissed and kissed and kissed and we heard the door to the cubicle unlock and the main door open and latch close. You grabbed me. We exited the comfort room. I was blinded by the rush and you led me to your parked car. I knew it was crazy but your hands alternated between the shift stick and my crotch. We ended up in a motel and when finally you were about to suck my stiff member, you paused, looked at me with a silly grin and said, ‘happy birthday band boy,’ and you took it all in.
It was wild, it was passionate and you sapped me dry. We did it all over the room - on the bed, in the toilet, in the showers, by the table, and I came all over too - in your mouth, in your palms, on your chest, inside you. Exhaustion got the better of us and we fell asleep. I could remember hearing the telephone ring. It must be the front desk informing us that our time is over. You picked it up. I was waiting for a nudge from you to get up and get dressed but when you put the phone down it was your warm hug enveloping me that I felt. I slipped into blessed exhausted sleep.
I woke up to the warmth in my crotch, and I saw you already mounted and impaled, pumping up and down. Time didn’t matter. There is the urgency of this lust, perhaps the last one, before we finally get dressed and go. When we came, I asked you what time it was. You said it doesn’t matter. You had us booked for the rest of the day. You smiled as you lay down beside me. I grabbed a smoke. Then you nibbled my ears and whispered ‘happy birthday’ I smiled and said, ‘not anymore. My birthday expired last night.’ You smiled and kissed me saying, ‘no, not you. Me. Happy Birthday to me. Today is my birthday.’ I smiled and allowed you to hug me. In a few minutes you fell asleep on my chest. I watched your cute face deep in slumber and I thought to myself. Darn, what’s your name again? I don’t think we ever asked each other that. Oh well, happy birthday. In an hour, I will wake you up by pumping into you! One good turn deserves another.