There is a certain high from not wearing underwear. It is very masculine and boyish.
I had a long trip from Cavite back to Makati. The sun was up and scorching and dust was irritating my eyes. I was feeling a little dizzy, hung over and dehydrated. But I didn’t care, I was feeling so carefree and nonchalantly sexy. I was enjoying the high in every moment on my way home.
I was a gangster as I changed bus in the bustling Baclaran.
I was whistling a tune as I find my way through the labyrinth of Buendia MRT Station crossing EDSA to get my jeepney ride to Makati Avenue.
I in fact never cared if there was a pendulum beneath my black Roxy board shorts, when I noticed a female passerby glancing at my crotch area. And so, I noticed those two pretty red laces hanging in front of my fly and bouncing off on my both legs.
I got off at Petron in the corner of Buendia and Makati Avenue. Even without my ipod I was walking to the beat of an imaginary house tune.
I decided to grab a smoothie at Treats to quench my parching mouth. As I entered the store I noticed the very warm yet very erotic smile of this gay attendant. I thought it was flattering. “Sir, wala pong The Big Chill today.” With that remark, I headed to the huge cooler and grabbed a Zest-O apple juice and a pack of Marlboro Lights by the counter.
A pack of apple juice in my left hand and a stick between my right fingers, a black back pack accessory, a vintage grey top, the wind in my hair and my uber low-waisted black Roxy board shorts… I was in a different dimension. “I am a bad-ass, pretty boy, straight-guy-girl-magnet, smirking at you baby. Pizzazz!”