The Weekend

Article 006.

 

FRIDAY

The plan was Oktoberfest in Huntington Beach that night. But Kelly wasn’t feeling well, so it was a scratch midway through the day. I decided to continue to work on my “literature” instead, amazed how inspired I still am at this point to finish an autobiography. Maybe a year tops? We’ll see. I was chatting with Sheila from NYC that afternoon and she asked, “Why would anyone wanna read about your life? Who the hell are you?” Valid point. A little harsh but true. I replied with some bruised pride in my voice, “It’s just for me. I want to read my life in a book, could care less if it sells!” I would consider it a nice little accomplishment having to document all my memories as far back as I can remember. To think I’m not even a writer writer, just an inspired scribbler. 

I texted Howard to see what the 411 is for tonight. He is downing Tanqueray. Imma load up with some Little Caesar’s Thin Crust Pizza. We experimented on Apple’s Share-Play. He plays one, I queue one and so on. After his Under The Bridge by RHCP [https://youtu.be/GLvohMXgcBo?si=VsW_OHwoKM4gphE-], I played Maybe by Neocolours [https://youtu.be/xMavd1QXE_E?si=MK_bqwPNKZ9Gy_Az]. We paused. A lot of memories with that one, feel good memories for my buddy. Took us back again to our teens and the “what might have been” talk started. Nostalgic. Howard could not believe that I don’t know the song Jealous, from the 90s (probably by a local artist from the Philippines), what with me being a melophile. For some reason, there’s nothing on Google about this particular song either, surprisingly, except a rendition from Niña. Still uncertain if she is the original artist. Will someone enlighten us please?

SATURDAY

Coffee. Gym. Brunch. Chores. Anticipated Mass.

Then at night, went to Brea. My friend Nelvin’s wife Nannette’s closest friends Lisa (still with me?) happens to be my next door neighbor back in the Philippines. She is visiting the US and wanted to catch up. Nannette and Lisa are several years me and Nelvin’s senior. So it was Lisa’s younger brother who is actually my friend. I reminded her how frantic she always was back then when I used to hang out at their house all rowdy and noisy. She remembers, with a smirk. She asked me about the girl I dated after my divorce. I was perplexed. How in the hell does she knows? “Your Dad spilled the beans!”, she said. Shaking my head. The secret’s out in the open. But I was distinctly at ease story-telling about that relationship, something I have kept so secluded within me for the longest time, and had been immensely hesitant to share, at least the very fine print. Even Nelvin and Nannette were not privy about it. They pretended not to be stunned by the truth. How classy these two. Coincidentally, the same girl was my date during their wedding night. What a small world! But then, it suddenly hit me. I shouldn’t be attending weddings with a girlfriend anymore. Seems like a bad omen as the relationship has led to its end, just like my last one too. RSVP’ing for one on the next nuptial invite and maybe finding my forever there? Hmmm…

Lisa’s going through her own struggles so I put my arm around her and said, “Everything’s gonna be alright! I’ve gone through stuff and I’m still standing, and so will you!” I was acting like the older of us two for a change. The night was full of stories about excessive use of pot back in college, and it wasn’t the guys doing the talking. The tri-tip with gravy that Nelvin served was superb. Interesting enough there was also fried battered salmon. Not sure what to make of it but it was tasty. There was no alcohol involved, just decaf coffee, a potful. Dinner, chatter and fresh air at this very spacious and serene backyard was the perfect setting. It totally isolated us from the abyss of the night. Time to hit the road.

SUNDAY
Sunday Morning Basketball League, a friendly one. I can’t say it is overly competitive but it can get testy. We are vying for second spot atop the rankings which would give you a bye-week for the playoffs next Sunday. It was a beating. I found my Larry Bird form for one day and we never looked back. Got me Player of the Game honors too (ahem)! Seven treys, three boards and eight dimes. Just got lucky. Then I had less than 3 hours to rest, ice and prep before my new “friend” picks me up for our scheduled massage at 2. Was so looking forward to it.

Westminster, or more commonly known as Little Saigon, is known for a slew of Pho restaurants, massage parlors and unruly Asian drivers inside the plaza. Our spot is on the second floor, corner building. The smell was neutral inside the lounge which is encouraging since most of these places would typically have a distinct funky odor. The lady masseuse had me strip to my undies for my full body massage. This is gonna be good! I was sold already since the very first push on my upper back. She then worked her way down to my hips. As she prepped to work on my butt and legs, she shoved my Calvins a tad too high exposing half of my right nut. I seriously didn’t know how to react. I’m sure it was not THAT type of massage parlor. I was a bit unveiled but was too relaxed at this point to reach back and do corrective measures. So I embraced it. And then I was gone. Every bit of body tissue sans the privates was violated to my liking. I was calm and loose. Aren’t massages the best? Twenty for a tip for a job well done masseuse. 

We capped off the day with some dimsum. I was starving, and so was she. But most of the restaurants in the area stopped serving dimsum by 3. Luckily, an open haven — The Dimsum Co. We ordered with our eyes so there was a lot of leftovers. Shumai, Har Gow, Seaweed Rolls, Egg Rolls and Sesame Balls. Our stomachs were full, muscles at ease and the conversations were pleasantly casual. What a lovely Sunday afternoon. If only sex was on the table, it would’ve been icing on the cake. She smacks me on the head as she drove away. Gives me the bird. I chuckled. Can’t blame the guy for asking, right?

Rodriguez Residence in Brea