more fun in the philippines

(pls click here for a youtube video about p. burgos st.)

i am staying in a place notorious or famous (depending on your point of view) for its girlie joints and bars. it's almost lyk the red light district of the old ermita, except in this one, there are fewer bars and even fewer hookers on the streets looking for a prey. but just the same, you can smell sex emanating from the customers that frequent these places.
these bars are open all night and the loud music, noisy banter among drunk customers and their escorts - the soundtrack of a real life tragedy - would sometimes keep me awake until dawn. during these nights, when solitude would almost drive me insane, crazy thoughts would swirl though my head - what if i work in one of these bars as a pimp or an entertainer just to get  a glimpse of this world that never sleeps? what if i go inside, get a girl and interview her? get her story? get her views on the reproductive health bill, for instance, or on actors turned politicians but are still not giving up their acting careers? is she also against the increase in the value added tax on cigarettes and alcoholic drinks?

******

one night, sleepless and restless as usual, curiosity got the better of me. i wanted to see what is inside, what sort of dirty deeds are being done in the dark corners of one of these bars.
so i rose from my bed, took a quick shower (i don't know, i always want to look good and smell nice every time i step out of this flat.) and put on fresh clothes.
it was already fifteen minutes past one in the morning. at the lobby, there were already several men and their female escorts waiting for the lift. on the streets, it was even more fun. more drunk men (mostly foreigners), women, cigarette vendors, were busy doing their business.
tourism, indeed, is booming in the country.
i picked the bar nearest to my flat. there were several women outside talking (or negotiating) with some men. while queueing at the door, i overheard a foreigner who was ahead of me inquiring about the place. the lady -- wearing thick make up, red, shiny lips, long curly hair, very short dress that exposed her long, stockinged legs and enormous breasts, five inch heels and cheap perfume -- was the one who answered him instead of the guard.

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foreigner (wearing khaki shorts, ill-fitting tee-shirt, sandals, a cap and reeking of alcohol) : what sort of a bar is this?
lady  : where you order beer sir and drink.
foreigner : what about girls?
lady : plenty sir.
foreigner : how much?
lady   : one hundred fifty pesos sir per bottle.
foreigner : i don't mean the beer, i mean the girls. how much?
lady     : they are not for sale sir.
foreigner    : what? but you said there are plenty of girls inside?
lady  : yes sir, but they are not for sale sir. they only entertain guests. they sing. this is ktv sir, not beer house. you can sing with the girls. you can dance. but they are not for sale.
annoyed, the foreigner left, cursing the lady.

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i also left. not because i was annoyed, but because i was embarrassed. i didn't know that i still have it in me.
oh well lowell.

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(i have plenty more interesting stories about this place. so watch out.)