After two cups of tea and the latest episode of Glee (Oh, Jesse St. James, you broke my heart.), at around 1 AM, I finally drifted off to sleep. Barely fifteen minutes into REM, a friend with sleeping habits worse than mine called up, presumably to inquire about my well-being. I was barely responding but he knew, as all my friends do, that I wouldn't have the heart to put the phone down (I'm given to thinking that people who call at ungodly hours must have urgent concerns that can't wait till morning and it would be rude not to pick up. Of course, half the time, it's nothing important, but I never seem to learn.) so, after realizing I wasn't about to update him on my life at 1:30 AM, he revealed the reason behind the call: After a year of dithering, he finally asked out the girl he's had a crush on since he hit puberty. The catch: He wants their first date to be memorable--but he hasn't been on a date in three years and thinks hitting an ice cream joint is okay enough (I'm not kidding. He suggested taking her to Pialetti's, a quaint fried ice cream place in Zamboanga.).
Though I think planning a date (beyond knowing the cinema schedule ahead) is cheesy, because I love him, I told him to make reservations at Tropics, my favorite restaurant in the city, and came up with a tentative date plan: dinner, dessert at the newly-renovated wing of Lantaka, a late-night stroll around Paseo (It's a seaside strip lined with outdoor cafes in a quiet part of Zamboanga. The beach, colorful street lamps, reggae music (or what passes for it)--what girl wouldn't be thrilled?) and, if all goes well and the girl's open to prolonging the agony date, coffee at that knickerbocker place on the far end of the strip.
Our conversation got me reminiscing. I thought of the most fun dates I've been on and I realized that they were barely planned. They were fun because they were spontaneous. Maybe plans I didn't know of were in place, but we ended up deviating from them and the spontaneity made the two dates that quickly came to mind (and, well, the guys) memorable. I might no longer be attached to the guys I went on those dates with, but I will always be thankful for the nice time I had and, in the end, since we're all just experimenting anyway, that's the most we can be grateful for.
One afternoon, the guy I was with had to visit The Money Museum in the Bangko Sentral compound for class and asked me to come along because I had a sore throat and was thinking of ditching one round of debate training I had committed to (Erm. Hehe.) . The plan was to head to the Roxas Boulevard complex, quickly go around the museum, head back to school for the later training rounds then have dinner together somewhere in Katipunan.
We got to the complex past museum hours and, on our way back to Ateneo, saw posters advertising the showing of selected indie movies in the CCP theater. We made a split-second decision to abandon our remaining commitments for the day, head to the CCP theater and catch a movie. Thinking we'd be occupied for the next two hours or so, he sent his driver home. We got so amused looking at the exhibits for each film, laughing about the movie posters and going around CCP that we didn't realize the afternoon screenings had begun. We either had to go in twenty minutes into the two movies showing for the day or wait two hours for the next screening. Neither of us were willing to wait so he decided to call his driver to come and pick us up.
As luck would have it, as we exited the theater, we realized both our cellphones had run out of battery. We circled the perimeter of the theater until we found a pay phone. We had nowhere to break down our bills so we had to empty my purse to find coins. It was hilarious, showing him the contents of my purse ("How can that handbag contain so much??" "Receipt 'to for what??" "So this is what you do in class, huh?" "Close your eyes. I carry around an emergency sanitary pad!"). We came up with about six pesos in change, which meant we had to relay our instructions to his driver in about a minute and a half. Then he realized he wasn't sure of the last few digits of his driver's number (and, with six bucks, we couldn't exactly risk dialing a wrong number) so, after a few minutes of hysterical laughter, we decided he'd call his house and ask the maid to call his driver. When we finally saw the payphone up close, we realized neither of us knew how to use it ( We tried deciphering the faded instructions on the side panel. It was a grimy, dusty payphone with gum wedged on the sides of the booth; we weren't exactly eager to get too close.). We finally worked it out and made the call, laughing the whole time. Imagine our surprise when we went to the parking lot and found out his driver was waiting for us all along!
We'd blown off most of the afternoon anyway so we headed to his house where he made me watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Imagine me trying not to cringe at the sight of bloodied fangs and various sharp instruments in Sarah Michelle Gellar's hands. I had my revenge though--I laughed at his baby pictures.). We had dinner and cupcakes (or was it donuts? See, I can't remember what we ate but I will always remember what made the date fun.) and I went home happy.
I didn't have high hopes when I was preparing for the second date that came to mind when I was reminiscing. I didn't think the guy I was going to go out with could surprise me (I was glad to be proven wrong, of course). I was leaving for Zamboanga to spend the sem break there and, since we wouldn't be seeing each other for close to three weeks, he asked me out. We watched a Spanish film the week before and figured we'd watch an Italian film in Shangri-la this time then have dinner nearby.
It didn't start out well. It was raining and the cardigan I was wearing didn't do anything to stave off the cold. The movie was boring but I didn't want to say anything because he seemed to be enjoying it. Halfway through the movie, to my relief, he admitted he wasn't enjoying so we decided to head out early. Probably because of the dreadful weather forecasts, most of the restaurants in Shang were already closed, so we went to Eastwood. The plan was to find a nice, quiet restaurant so we could talk. However, as we were about to head into the mall, a group of waiters started dancing in front of us. I couldn't stop laughing in surprise at the sight of aproned guys dancing YMCA with gusto. Turns out, Johnny Rockets had just opened and dancing to old hits is part of the waiters' job description. We decided we had to eat there (I mean, come on, a neon-lighted diner with gleaming white booths and waiters who dance every half-hour or so--who could resist?).
As we waited for our food to arrive, we realized what the miniature jukeboxes on the tables were for. If you drop a five-peso coin into the small jukebox, you could choose what song would be playing on the PA system. He had a few twenty-peso bills changed and we ended up playing a weird version of Name That Song. We randomly alternated between trying to see who could guess the title of the song playing first and who could sing along the longest without getting the lyrics wrong (It was mostly him playing and 'winning' but I didn't mind because it was a relief to see him loosen up. He was always the perfect gentleman and I was charmed by how courteous he was, but I found it difficult to relax around him.).
After dinner, he took me home and handed me a journal he picked out for me earlier in the day. He knew of my journal-writing habit and thought I could write on it in the three weeks I'd be gone and, hopefully, even after. I said goodbye when we got to Xanland and was just about to get into the shower when I saw the note he had written hurriedly on the first page of the journal. The note was sweet and rather surprising so I sent him a thank-you text, regretting that I didn't properly get to say goodbye. To my surprise, despite the fact that he was nearing home, he drove back to Katipunan. We walked to 7-11, bought ice cream (which I forced him to eat a bit more of every five minutes, not knowing he was lactose-intolerant, whoops), headed up to the condo and played Twenty Questions (We were going beyond twenty but we weren't keen on keeping count) until three in the morning, after which I realized I wouldn't be waking up in time for my flight if we went on any longer.
I realized two things on the subject of dating: 1. I should call my friend and tell him he can plan their first date down to the tiniest detail, but he shouldn't be afraid to deviate from the game plan. If, all of a sudden, they spot a bowling alley on their way to dinner and bowling suddenly appeals to her or she decides she wants to eat at a roadside satti joint, he should just relax and go along. And 2. Often, the planned details will turn out to be insignificant in the long run. Chances are, when you look back, you won't remember what you had to eat or how the movie went (in some cases, you won't even remember how you ended up dating the guy)--you'll remember the odd little mishaps that made you laugh, the detours that made for interesting conversations. Things might not end well between you and the guy; or he might be the one person you will always regret not working things out with. You might just lose interest a few months into dating him; or you might realize you have a hopeless pas de sparks situation going on--but, for a couple of hours, you found happiness or, at the very least, amusement in each other. We're at a point in our lives where we aren't looking for permanence and we just take things as they come, so maybe that's the best we can hope for.
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