Joy Riding
by sundaydriver (blog entry )
i thought i was going to spend the whole day in bed today. the weather was perfect for it. i even planned out what fast-food deliveries to contact in case i got hungry. "it was a day of complete uselessness" so i told myself. Buhay baboy. but then early in the morning i got a text message asking if i was awake, followed by a call from a familiar voice that asked if i had any plans today. naturally i said no. she said she wanted pasta. immediately i began drumming up the lamest excuse so I could stay in bed. Perhaps even convince her to come over hehe? But no, she had made her mind up and even offered to pick me up. Being the half-hearted gentleman, I politely countered her offer. It’s not a problem she said, in fact she was on the road already. That got me shaved and showered up in 10 minutes flat. As I was choosing my underwear (yes guys do choose underwear too) I got to thinking…she’s quite a pushy lassy isn’t she. But what’s even more intriguing is how I’m falling prey to her “suggestions”.
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We had dinner last Friday. It was polite but not too stiff. We met in Makati right after work. A casual dinner at a pseudo-friendly-date-place (read Italianni’s). I had a couple of beers she had her glasses of deep red. Tawanan. Kuwentuhan. I even met a couple of her friends who happened to drop by. I wouldn’t put much thought into it. Friendly date nga. I mentioned I always wanted to take a road trip but never really had the will to go on one. She encouraged me. I shrugged it off. Didn’t even think of dropping the bait. That was that. No kiss goodnight. No holding hands. And now I’m nervously choosing my socks.
In 30 minutes she was at my building lobby. A dark grey Isuzu D-max was purring in the driveway. There’s something incredibly sexy about a girl driving a macho car. It screams independence, perhaps even power. I later learned that this was her Dad’s car. And we had a good laugh bout the furry dice dangling from the rear-view mirror. She drove manual. Very impressive. She drove like a man. Very scary. You can actually tell a person’s attitude by her driving style. Who she cuts. Who she honks at.
And her music. She had glam rock on her iPod. She liked Bon Jovi’s old mushy songs. I preferred Warrant. We belted out Skid Row’s I Remember you. Rock music. Macho car. Feisty chick. Long drive down SLEX. I knew I was in trouble.
Tagaytay was wet. And boring. Sonya’s Garden was booked or closed or something. We settled for Bag O’ Beans. Shepherd’s Pie mmmmm. Then coffee at Starbucks. We drove down before the sunset. She wouldn’t let me drive. If you ask me I preferred the road trip more than the stopovers. Inside the car it’s your own personal space. You hear each other better. Nobody eavesdrops. You can change the music to fit the mood. And it’s even more surreal when you’re in the passenger’s seat. You can focus on every word she says and even look at her when she speaks. You hold the toll cards and pick up the loose change.
Plus you can comfortably hold her hand when she’s not shifting gears. As I said, I think I’m in trouble.
Thank God she’s not a member of tsikot.com.
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