I DON’T know about you, but I feel that Iloilo, and the Philippines, has become unbearably hot.
Oppressively hot.
If this is not climate change, I’m sure it’s just my age now.
I mean, I do not remember it this hot in August.
But, then again, I have lived in America for over 15 years now.
***
I like the idea that I sweat a lot here.
I always think that sweating is healthy.
But for effs’ sake, how can you copulate in this climate?
No wonder people are only up to quickies.
If the weather is always hot, why even go into a relationship?
I mean, can you afford 24/7 aircon?
***
It is my theory that lodging or rooms for rent by the hour are popular because high school kids want to copulate in aircon rooms nowadays.
In my time, they go to the cemetery.
And make love on top of cooler niches.
Hello? Marble top tombs are cooler anytime!
***
I mention the oppressive heat because although I stocked up on caftans while in the US, I ended up wearing just boxer briefs in the Philippines.
In Manila, I tried to keep my shirts on.
In Iloilo City, at least, I wear sandos (wifebeaters, we call them in the States).
Sometimes, I wear fashionable flimsy robes over my wifebeaters—like the ones you see on Europeans vacationing at the French Riviera.
And because they are fashionable and carefully selected, I am quite a head turner at the Festive Mall or SM City, or Robinsons, or even Pavia’s Vista Mall.
***
In Dumangas though, I can often be seen with unbuttoned shirts, and those pekpek shorts.
And if I feel hot, or if I just feel like provoking the town, I go shirtless.
I mean, what are they gonna do with me, arrest me?
Oh, handcuff me, officer!
I want them to try to arrest me.
Because I will demand a Kosher diet, and cite religious beliefs.
Let’s see how they’re gonna deal with that.
***
Or imagine me getting raped in jail.
By every other male inmate, sometimes three times a day.
Imagine me dying out there with a 40-day fast.
And all I want is a sexy body, and some trimmed abs after my jail time. Haha.
***
If I am jailed for shirtless body exposure, would they allow me to write my columns?
If not, would my readers write letters to the warden?
Would journalists cover my story?
***
Now, wouldn’t that be a bigger media stunt?
I feel that in the 2020s, and at my age 53, so many things can happen.
And I cannot lose.
I definitely can turn jail time into something productive, and ultimately profitable, for me.
The thought makes me fearless.
I can forever be premier agent provocateur!
***
My being sexy shirtless has some repercussions, of course.
Obviously, there are newer people in my town who do not know me.
Case 1: This hired hand from Bago City.
While standing in front of my family’s commercial building waiting for my driver and my car at 8pm, he approached me.
He thought I was easy.
I mean, I tried to be. Haha.
***
I am not averse to talking to strangers.
In fact, that’s one of my charms.
Anybody in Dumangas can come up to me.
When I’m not busy, I engage them.
But it was 8pm.
I look hooker sexy.
Or I look like fresh meat.
This guy approaches me, invites me to hop on his motorbike for a ride.
Sexy, right?
***
He was also asking for my cell number.
(I did not give it! Haha.)
I told him that he was being fresh, and if he knew me, he wouldn’t do what he was doing.
He introduced himself, and offered his hand for a handshake.
I took it.
And he gave me the “f*ck me” signal—you know, his pointer finger secretly tapping my palm in a handshake. (To be continued/PN)
