Sunday, August 8, 2010

Red, Red Wine

It was raining cats and dogs last night.

I was in my fortress of solitude, sitting in front of the computer, as usual. In the middle of soundtripping on some melancholic songs, my dogs started barking, signaling the approach of unwelcome intruders.

The insistent knocks on the door made for cacophonous accompaniment to the angry barking of my royal pooches, but the barbarians at the gate refused to go away.

Sighing the sigh of the damned, I trudged to the portal in my boxers and grudgingly greeted the team of wild horses awaiting me there.

"Hel-lo!" smiled Miguel.

"Hello!" smiled Andrea.

"Well, hello, Greta," smiled Nicky. That last one did it, and my scowl broke into an uncontrollable smile.

The arresting party, of course, had a glass of red wine in each hand.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?" asked Miguel.

"Nice try, vampire," I snapped.

"Oh, come, come let us in," cajoled Nicky.

"This isn't where the party's at," I replied, still standing firmly behind the screen door.

It was a classic Mexican standoff. After a minute of silence, I figured resistance was futile and said "Let me get decent, and I'll see you there in a bit."

Nicky gave me a raised eyebrow.

"I promise."


"Well, that was fast," Nicky said when I arrived five minutes later.

"I didn't bother to shower," I replied.

"But why?"

"There's no one here I can even remotely imagine having sex with."

"Oooooh, I love that jacket," he gushed, caressing the tailored red leather number I threw on to repel the rain.

"Someone knows how to make an entrance," chimed in a girl I didn't know.

"Thanks," I replied. "It's my homage to Scarlett O'Hara showing up in that sinful red number at Melanie's party after being busted for having the hots for her boring husband."

"I thought it was more James Dean, dear," offered Nicky.

"It'll be that when I have a Porsche I can crash."


The red leather jacket continued to garner rave reviews throughout the night. An elegant Englishwoman festooned in turquoise asked to take a picture, which took me by surprise. I haven't been a camwhore in years and so it was a little awkward, but I acquiesced nonetheless.

I wonder where that pic will end up.


In between, my old friends and I talked of many things, of cabbages and kings. Nicky amused us with his tale of finding genuine Manolos in some Baguio ukay-ukay for P1500.00. Sadly, they were size 8; his feet were size 11. But Blahniks being Blahniks, Nicky phoned a designer friend in Manila - someone with size 8 feet - to ask if he wanted them.

"Tawaran mo pa ng P1000.00" said the friend.

So Nicky tried to haggle for the pair.

"Hindi ba puwedeng P1000 na lang? Ano ba naman yang Manolo na yan?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Unfortunately, the tindero happened to be gay himself, and countered

"Si kuya naman! Parang hindi niya alam."

End of story? Nicky wandered off for a while, and 15 minutes later, when he went back for the shoes, they were gone.

Some other lucky Cinderella had snapped them up.


For all his footwear expertise, Nicky admitted he couldn't tell genuine LV from Class B. And so the girl I didn't know and whose name escapes me weighed in with the merits and demerits of Class A LVs

"Define 'guts'" I said, out of the blue.
"Shoot," she said.
" 'Guts' is shopping in Bangkok and then boarding a direct flight to Charles de Gaulle."


And then Maureen arrived.

"I LOVE that jacket!!!" she squealed in her unique effervescent way.

"It loves you too, hon," I replied.

A glass of red wine appeared magically and then the Lea-bashing began in earnest. A frenzied feline free-for-all made even more ferocious because no one at the party seemed to sympathize with Ms. Salonga, no matter how crystal-clear her voice was.

"She's so FAT!" hissed Maureen, blessed with genes that still kept her svelte and flawless way beyond her 30s. "She looked like a furball!"

"She just doesn't have the gravitas to carry the role," chimed in Nicky. "She's perenially cute, forever tweetums."

"Well, maybe next time they can get Sanrio to produce CATS instead." I muttered.


October is when Nicky has his grand masquerade ball at the old haunted house.

"How are your ghosts?" I asked.

"Ok lang. They don't bother me. And yours?"

"Same. They know better than to bug me while I'm working."

"Ganun lang naman dapat. Just carry on."

I'm a busy man. And that's how I live with my ghosts.

Human or not.


Talk turned to fashion and Nicky waxed nostalgic about some fabulous antique gown he gave away to a female friend. Apparently, said gown became the talk of the town in Paris, where the friend is based.

"What did you ask in return for that gown?" queried a jealous Maureen.

"A poochie!" exclaimed Nicky.

I stared blankly, an image of a black Yorkie flashing in my mind.

"Ooooh, I love poochies, too! I want one!" gushed Maureen.

Blank look again, this time with a poodle running through my head.

"Well, it depends on what the color schemes are." tittered Nicky.

And then it hit me.




The red wine continued to flow as Ned joined us.

"CATS is a one-song show," he sniffed.

Well, he saw it on Broadway with Betty Buckley as Grizabella, so there you go.

"Nice jacket," he said as he passed a joint around. I haven't had "herbal life" in a good while so I was grateful for a couple of puffs before resorting to my Reds. Maureen carried on about her showbiz career and the boredom of playing the stock contrabida mestiza.

Ned is a filmmaker and I am an aspiring one.

"We should do a remake of Supergirl," I told Maureen. "You can reprise the mad scientist role played so effortlessly by Odette Khan."

"Is that the one with Nora?" asked Ned.

"No, that was SuperGee," I corrected. "Nora in black leather, on a black bike. Supergirl was with Pinky."

"Pinky de Leon did Supergirl?" asked Maureen.

"No. Pinky Montilla. The chubby girl who's vanished off the face of the earth since then."

I couldn't blame her, really. If I played Supergirl, I'd have vanished off the entire universe myself.


I collared Miguel as he, his boyfriend, and Andrea tried to scurry away like the rats they were.

"Where do you think you're going?" I snapped.

"Ah...home," came his meek reply.

"You live a block from here."

"Well, it's almost midnight," he stammered.

"Your Corolla has been a pumpkin for a decade now. Try harder."

"Ah, ano, my girlfriend is looking for me na kasi," offered Andrea helpfully.

Well. Far be it from me to stand between a woman and her lesbian lover.

"We're going off to Sagada with Nicky in September," came Migs' parting shots. "Wanna join us?"

"Do they have Blahniks there, too?"


My leave was French, as usual.

Maureen with a black cat on her lap.

Nicky cackling about someone or something.

Ned ignoring his lover's pleas to get going home na.

And our weary host sprawled on his sofa, dozing off while waiting for us to vanish.

Red wine in my system, red jacket over my skin.


  1. Friends pala kayo ni Maureen Larrazabal.

  2. Natawa ako ng bungga sa PUCCI segment. ;)

  3. SuperGirl? SuperGee? Pinky de Leon? Pinky Montilla? This info dates you, RB. Or you got all this info from a mag, or from a college course in film history, perhaps? I know P. de leon, but I wonder who P. Montilla is. I'd better check Google. (Googling the name does date me, hehe. Oh, RB, I thought we were of the same age...)

  4. @ Ming : While I do know Maureen Larrazabal, that's a totally different Maureen at the party.

    @ Ronnie : 'Nak ng Pucci, di ba?

    @ janjan789 : Well, let's see. Just because we know of Antony and Cleopatra doesn't mean we're ancient ourselves, does it? :P

    Nevertheless, somehow I don't think we're peers. Like Maureen above, I guess I just marinate well.

  5. wahaha Supergirl ahahha i know that film! she kisses the ring and becomes Supergirl bwahhaa..who can forget about the giant frog LOL ..

    and hehe, I do agree with you guys on Lea eheh,
    now show us a picture of that red jacket!

  6. Awww, i like lea salonga. She can play eponine until she's 60 in my book. I'll probably be the only guy watching but still.

  7. @ Fickle Cattle : Weird. Nicky said the same thing about Lea playing Eponine until she's 60. Eternal ingénue.

    I give her props for that voice clear as a bell and her consummate professionalism. But like any other actor, not all roles were made for her. I've had the pleasure of working with her a couple of times, which is how I found out her dream role is Evita.

    Hm. W-e-e-l-l-l...she can sing better than Madonna, that's for sure.

    After all, only Norma Desmonds can play any role.

    @ soltero : Oh, at last! I'm so happy someone else knows Supergirl. Wasn't it so camp? Even as a boy watching it on TV I was "Wow, this is a riot!" It should be on every Pinoy gay man's must-see list, along with Temptation Island and Vilma's entire Darna oeuvre.

    As for the pic of that famous red jacket - check back in a couple of days after I give it a little thought :P

  8. Oh wow. It's like reading Dominick Dunne.

    Menchu Lauchengco should have played Grizabella. I'll even settle for Monique.

    And yes to Temptation Island being on every pinoy gay man's must-see list. CAMP!

    lol@pucci and sanrio

  9. i can't relate to any of your conversations. sigh.

  10. of course, the giant frog in zsa zsa zaturnah was a homage to the great supergirl movie ;)

  11. Rudeboy, you have friends!!!! I'm shocked! Kidding =)

    Friends are amazing, really. I am glad you have people like them to cheer you up, on rainy nights like these.

    "Red, red wine
    Go to my head
    Make me forget"


  12. i laughed very hard when i read about the Manolo thing and how the gay replied, plus the pucci which i still need to google what's that all about!

    i like your friends, their sophistication combined with wittiness. this post is like reading the joke segment of the reader's digest. :p

  13. @rudeboy: like I always say, great minds, great minds.

  14. @ Fickle Cattle : HA! I don't think you'd like Blahniks, though :P

    @ Mike : Always happy to make someone laugh. And yes, my friends are a bunch of drunken reprobates. They've just managed to maintain a veneer of social respectability over the years. But inside, they're just amoral lushes. Like moi.

    @ Kane : I'm shocked, too. At why they bother.

    @ Ternie : I didn't know THAT! Then again, I must confess I haven't followed the exploits of ZZZ.

    @ engel : Try getting drunk first, engel. Then everything will make sense.

    @ orally : Oooh, Dominick Dunne. He went from social chronicler to investigator of the crimes of the rich and famous, yes?

    I think the only crimes I've committed thus far have been against the dictates of fashion.

  15. Red wine. This explains the drunk comments you made on my birthday post. haha this was quite a read. You had my Google Reader doing backflips.