Friday, June 22, 2007

About A Boy At The Gym

Gym, Carribean Coast
1:40 something p.m.

As I was on my second set of reverse lateral pulldowns, I sensed somebody walking towards my direction. I didn't pay the slightest attention to whoever that was. I probably locked the pulldown machine pin two plates lower than I normally do. The fucking weight was just too much for 12 reps. But I knew someone was near me. That someone must be observing me, betting I wouldn't finish my set.

Ten. (pant) Eleven. (grunt) Twelve. (ahhhhhhhhh... shit!)

My lats were starting to feel tight and my arms were just drained of all the strength I had depended on my creatine to provide me with. I closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath --- feeling the addictive pain on the sides of my back and the sense of accomplishment that I didn't give in to the temptation of doing 10 reps instead of 12. I almost forgot there was someone near me --- probably watching. Probably saying to himself "Ok.. so he finished the set. But look at him now. Should I ask the staff for a stretcher?"

I stood up from the machine bench after a few deep breaths. I turned around and saw that there was indeed somebody watching me. He uttered something in Cantonese and I didn't reply. He got the message. He repeated his question in english.

"Was that your last set?"


"Sorry. English -- no?", he asked.

I couldn't speak. Right in front of me was the most gorgeous chinese guy I have EVER seen. And he was looking straight into my eyes.

I told myself, "Say something, Rye. Say something. Anything! Godammit!"

"Uhh... no," was all I was able to say.

I felt my knees weaken and my heart beat faster. I convinced myself it was because of the exercise. But I didn't use my legs doing the pulldown set. Still, it was because of the exercise. "Now, get the hell away from him because you are acting funny!"

I grabbed my water bottle from the bench where towels and water bottles were and walked to the drinking fountain. I took my time filling my bottle up. I drank from it slowly. Then I stared at the tv that was mounted overhead pretending I was interested in the Chinese soap that was on. I just wanted to make sure he was gone before I went there for my third set. Glance. Still there. Why won't he just leave already? I started feeling like I was being preposterous. But I just didn't know how to act. He was beautiful. Too beautiful to be just ignored. This is not the first time this happened to me. I've had experiences in the past quite similar to this. But the last time this ever happened was in 1999. Back when I was working as a researcher for a tv show called "Best Frends" on GMA-7.

That time, I needed to tape celebrities doing a bumper for my segment. My Segment Producer was supposed to arrive in less than an hour to put together the whole episode and there was no time to waste. The fastest way I could collect bumpers was to go down to the studio where S-Files was going on. With the show dv camera and a portable light in my hands, I rushed to the studio. First celebrity I saw was Lyn Ching. Taped her. Done. Next: Paolo Bediones. Taped. Done. Next: Ara Mina. Taped. Done. One more. Just one more. No other choice. It had to be Rey Pumaloy. I knew he wouldn't appeal to our audience. But hey, all I wanted was to complete my bumpers. I'll leave the decision whether to include him or not to my SP. I checked the battery of the portable light and the film in the cam. I had more than enough. As I was starting to head towards Rey, I realized he wasn't where he was standing less than a minute back. Dammit! I looked around and he was nowhere in sight. He probably went to the dressing room. I asked permission from one of the show's P.A.'s to go to the dressing room so I could shoot Rey. He said ok. But before I could even say "thank you", somebody from behind me touched my shoulder and, as if having mistaken me for an S-Files P.A., said "Nandito na ko. Sorry ha? Traffic."

It was Jomari Yllana's voice. I instantly decided to shoot him instead of Rey. When I turned to face him, I found out he didn't think I was who he should talk to. He was talking to the PA I was talking to. I was just in the way that's why he touched me. No time to waste. I had to do my thing as fast as I could.

I asked him politely, "Jomari, pwede kita kunan ng b..." Then he turned to me, smiled, and waited for me to finish my question. I didn't. I was stoned. He said "Bumper? Ok lang. Saan?" I was speechless. His beauty mesmerized me. As if sensing he wouldn't get an answer from me, he said, "Dito na lang?" I still couldn't speak. I just nodded my head.

My hands were shaking. And they were starting to sweat. I couldn't turn the cam on or the porta-light. When I finally did, I stood right in front of him and gave him the cue. I thanked him and went up to the editing room to digitize my materials.

We ended up not being able to use the Jomari material because the camera was shaking non-stop went I shot him.

The studly Chinese guy walked up to me and said he had finished the three sets of his first exercise in the pulldown machine. He asked, "Do you wanna finish your last set first before I start with my next exercise?" "Sure,"I said and walked hurriedly away from him.

As soon as I sat on the bench, he appeared again and said, "I saw you were having difficulty finishing your set. Do you need a spot?"

Dammit! Why are you torturing me? You, fucking slut!

"Yes, please," I replied.

Given the structure of the machine and the nature of the exercise, the most convenient way he could spot me was from behind me. But no. As if really trying to test my ability to keep my composure when faced with an ultimate fantasy figure, he stood right in front of me and held the bar over my head. I couldn't look straight. He might think I was looking at his crotch. It would've been silly to look sideways, or down to the floor. So I looked up. Then it just got worse. I saw his pits. And I have a fetish for pits. His looked really clean and smooth and his wide chest and wide back made a canal between them where the fine strands of his thick, manly, armpit hair crawled on his skin and formed a long, narrow line.

He pulled down the bar a little bit so that I could reach it. "Ready? Inhale." he commanded as soon as I grabbed a hold of the bar. I pulled.

"One," he started counting.

I released then pulled again.


He counted everytime my arms were stretched and the bar was up. His count coincided with my inhales. Looking up at the bar and glancing occassionally at his pits, I was starting to get intoxicated by his breath that told me he had vanilla-flavored protein bar just before I saw him for the first time.

"Last two, last two!" he said, trying to push me to the last rep.

I exhaled, closed my eyes and pulled.

"Last one, come on! Last one!"

I pulled again.

"Hold it there! Hold....... And release slowly."

I let go of an "ahhhhhhhh..." as I slowly released the bar. At the same time, he also said "Uhhh...yes!" Together, the sound we created was sexual; and quite quickly, his smile started to mean something else to me.

I have to get out of here!

I got up from the bench, thanked him, removed my gloves and offered a handshake.

He stared at my hand.

Slowly, he removed his right glove and still looking at my hand, he reached for it.

Without turning back to give hime one last glance, I got my bottle and my towel and went to the shower room.

After removing my shoes and socks, I opened my locker to get my toiletries. I removed my sweaty tank top and shorts then I wrapped my towel around my waist and took off my jock straps. I turned around the corner to go to the sink where I was going to brush my teeth. Then I saw him again. To the left of the sink, he stood, opening his locker --- topless. He turned to me and said, "Hey!"

to be continued...