Friday, May 30, 2008

Unfit For Work

Funny how my Facebook and Twitter status changed from
"wants to drink til he gets smashed but is unable to walk to the store because of his sprained left foot. :-("
"unfit for work. no, not the sprained foot. hangover. terrible hangover from his midweek off."
in less than 48 hours. And to think the normal recovery time for a sprain is 36 hours.

So this is what happened.

Tuesday afternoon, I twisted my foot during the show but managed to continue dancing. It didn't really hurt that bad. I even got to workout after my shows. The two people who saw exactly what happened, Pro and Nombuso, were very concerned because they thought it was a bad twist. I didn't feel anything alarming. I went home and took a nap. When I woke up, my left foot was already inflammed and I could barely walk on it. That's when I wrote "wants to drink til he gets smashed but is unable to walk to the store because of his sprained left foot. :-(". I was hoping one of my neighbors would read it and volunteer to buy me drinks. No one answered my plea for help. It was frustrating, trust me. It was my Friday and I was sitting alone in my room watching the last season of the Golden Girls with not even a can of beer or a glass of wine anywhere within my 100-meter radius. IN one of my trips to the freezer to change my ice pack, I saw the fresh 1.87 pint of Dreyer's Rocky Road. Consuming 3/4 of it by myself in 30 minutes helped soothe the frustration quite a bit.

Wednesday, around 6pm, I went to see Dr. L. He gave me Celebrex and massaged my foot a little. I took the train to Central, for free vodka Wednesdays at Volume, although I wasn't really in the mood to socialize. But I promised Josh I would be there and Steve had just gotten back from another business trip. Plus, Val was going to be there. I got to convince myself it wouldn't be bad to just sit there, have a drink, chat with friends, and then leave beofre the last train departs. On my wasy to Volume, I saw a food friend, Kelly, who invited me for dinner since it was only 7:30. A little too early to start drinking, according to him. While we were sitting at Bacar, a quaint tapas bar by the Soho escalators, we saw another good friend, Charlie, whom we hadn't seen for a while. See, Charlie is one of those people whose presence just excites me and makes me giddy. He sat down with us and later came to Volume with us.

When Kelly, Charlie and I got to Volume, the beckies were already there, probably on their fourth round of drinks. Some of them were already loud, some were flirty, some were slurring. I gave out a loud and curly "Hiiiii!" to everyone, to which Steve replied, "Friend, you dn't look the slightest bit unwilling to socialize!" Josh exclaimed, "I thought you were injured. It doesn't show!"

3 chardonnays and 2 cosmopolitans later, at around 10pm, the place was filling up with more familiar faces. Brad teased me, saying he was sure he would receive another message from me on facebook on Thursday morning saying, "I have a terrible hangover. You should have one too." Then a new friend, Theodore, made a surprise appearance as well. Just before 10:30, he instructed me to finish my drink and said we had some place to go. I obliged without any question. Before 11, was already buzzed and was saying goodbye to my friends. At this point, Charlie had already left but his impact on my general disposition that night remained with me.

About 20 minutes later, Theodore and I were on a private bus that would bring us to a secluded piece of land in the middle of West Tsim Sha Tsui. When we got there, I chuckled at the thought that the place was swamped with people fashionably dressed in black and gold. I was underdressed, and both Theo and I were in a brown ensemble. It was Diesel's fashion show. As soon as Theo showed his invite to the reception, we were escorted to the bar and were given a glass each of chilled Mo√ęt & Chandon. There was just a lot going on and there were a lot of people we both didn't wanna see, so he urged me to call Andy, a wine and spirits supplier, to ask whether we could pick up a bottle of Veuve. Andy replied in the affirmative. We then hurried out, without even finishing our drinks.

Blah, blah, bah... How it all ended, I got home at 6pm on Thursday. Hungover! But smilingly hungover.


Out of extreme fatigue, I dozed off right after dinner tonight. When I woke up 30 minutes ago, I found a message on my phone which said: "Friend, are u the guy seeing Fly? Or is he seeing you? Top nga naman sya. Hehehehe!"

My response: "Twinks don't attract me. Not even the horniest of twinks. Natatawa ko pag tinitigasan sila. Pano ko magde-date ng twink? The!"