When friends trump fashion

This is Jeboi.

I dedicate this blog entry to my friend Eric Escalante who waited with me last Sunday. The thing is, I had to go to Manila but the bus fare cost P350. I only had P200 at that time and I really needed a friend. I knew that he couldn’t lend me money but I decided to bother him anyway. The great thing about what happened is that despite his embarrassment over what he was wearing, he spent the entire afternoon with me, keeping me company while I waited for other friends to respond to my texts, calls and distress signals.

We just sat on a bench facing the Burnham (artificial) Lake, watching the people frolic in their rented swans, ducks or what-have-yous. We also ate green mango with salt + chili, watered down vinegar and shrimp paste. I ate chicharon with vinegar that was really watered down. He smoked, I inhaled. We took pictures. We laughed. I made him hate me at least twenty times. I made fun of him a hundred times that! But he also gave as good as he got so we were even.

We walked around. And I mean around mainly because we were at a loss as to where to head to. Even if he was really conscious about the fact that he hadn’t taken a bath yet. Or that his clothes made him look like the tackiest bum in the neighborhood.

Even if it was a quiet afternoon, with just me and him in the park watching people walk or boat by, it was one of the sweetest afternoons I’ve ever spent with a boy.

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