the universe is once more balanced
I watched Linkin Park with my ex-officemates, Wesley and Francis, last night. They're good friends, which is why I invited myself into going with them when I found out they're watching. What's more is that Wes brought in a cool bunch of people to join us -- Cana, Lisette, Butch and Jansen. (They're cool cause they said they'll be reading my blog from now on! Hahaha :))
We were there before 7:00pm and the concert was likely to start at 8:30pm. Me and the four boys met Kana and Lisette at the concert and somehow Wesley forgot to introduce us. (Hmmm, I wonder why.) So Francis and I got stuck at another area in the field, trying to figure out a way to sit down. He didn't want to mess up his dress pants and I didn't want him to sit on my velvet coat. So we ended up standing for an hour and a half.
It was some 15mintues later that the announcer called for 6 ticket numbers to meet-and-greet LP. The second number he announced was 5-2-1. I looked at my ticket -- it was f*cking 5-2-0! Shet! That was Wesley's ticket number. I was screaming my head off in the field running to him. Somehow, I didn't get to grab his ticket and make a run for the entrance of meet-and-greet. He was running way faster than me -- opposite direction! Francis said if only Wesley ripped off the other ticket, I would have been the one meeting-and-greeting LP.
I hated Wesley then. Called him up on his celfone and begging him to take me along. He tried to ask the bouncers if he could bring a friend along but to no avail. (His charms didn't work at all with those big burly guys.) Anyway, after his meet-and-greet, he geve me a call and told me that he is upgraded to the gold arena (we were supposed to be at the silver arena) and that his autographed tag was mine to keep. Gawd, I love Wesley.
After 70minutes of concert time, it ended. It was short but well worth it. Ended up jumping in spurts, sweating with the rest of the people, almost toppled over when someone made a body slam at me. Good thing Francis caught me before I embarassed myself. There was this one crazy guy (Caucasian) beside us who was standing still throughout the concert. I wanted to like say, "Hey man, you're in a f*cking rock concert! You're supposed to bang your head, wave your hands like crazy, and jump till you can't jump anymore." But didn't. I concentrated with enjoying myself and trying not to hit him in any way. Francis and I banged our heads, waved our hands, and jumped with all our might -- with him ending up with legs cramps right after the concert.
We tried going to Pier One for some drinks since it was only 9:45pm. It turns out, everybody in the concert decided to go there as well. So we headed up to Malate, which is the nearest gimmick area from the concert. My first time there.
Along Roxas Blvd., the aircon of the car went loco and it started to smell funny. Then the engine died. Funny thing was, we were stuck in the middle of this huge road with an ambulance with its sirens on right behind us. Francis had to get out of the car and signal the ambulance to move to the other lane. I think if whoever was in that van died because of this delay, you can imagine the guiltWesley we would feel.
To continue, the car can no longer run but we reached Portico in Malate. We asked the girls to follow us there, instead of going to the agreed place prior to separating ways in the CCP parking lot. It ended up that the car overheated -- which is an understatement considering that it didn't cool down no matter how much water we put in. Until this morning as Wesley informed us.
We joked around telling Wesley that his good luck ran out on him. He said it didn't even last long or earned any interest. Butch said it's the way to balance the universe out. One good thing, one bad thing. What only made it worse for Wesley is that it all happened in one night. Oh well, at least his debt is paid. There's still Saturday night, though, to get lucky.
While waiting for the car to cool, I started pouring water in the radiator thingy and this car stopped by for a long time. Most passing cars were looking over at us cause the Wesley's car was sputtering and smoke was coming out. But this particular car, stopped and asked us if we needed help. Francis was answering them but they still won't leave. Finally, I looked to see and, lo and behold, two hotties were in the said car and looking at me asking me once again. They thought I own Wesley's car! Hahaha :) I thought it was a pick-up line and smiled, "No thanks, we're good." Francis said it wasn't, they just felt pity cause the guys I was with weren't doing anything to help me out. Butch said (or wasn't it him?) maybe they liked Francis or one of the other guys, hence they stopped to check the guys out. If Butch was right, women should cry for the loss of two cuties who opted for their own sex rather than ours.
Malate, I then realized, is such a strange place, but one where you can have one hell of a good time. As proven by the good things of the night, the mishaps, and the company I kept.
Looking forward to Saturday night. Fete de la Musique, here we come!
We were there before 7:00pm and the concert was likely to start at 8:30pm. Me and the four boys met Kana and Lisette at the concert and somehow Wesley forgot to introduce us. (Hmmm, I wonder why.) So Francis and I got stuck at another area in the field, trying to figure out a way to sit down. He didn't want to mess up his dress pants and I didn't want him to sit on my velvet coat. So we ended up standing for an hour and a half.
It was some 15mintues later that the announcer called for 6 ticket numbers to meet-and-greet LP. The second number he announced was 5-2-1. I looked at my ticket -- it was f*cking 5-2-0! Shet! That was Wesley's ticket number. I was screaming my head off in the field running to him. Somehow, I didn't get to grab his ticket and make a run for the entrance of meet-and-greet. He was running way faster than me -- opposite direction! Francis said if only Wesley ripped off the other ticket, I would have been the one meeting-and-greeting LP.
I hated Wesley then. Called him up on his celfone and begging him to take me along. He tried to ask the bouncers if he could bring a friend along but to no avail. (His charms didn't work at all with those big burly guys.) Anyway, after his meet-and-greet, he geve me a call and told me that he is upgraded to the gold arena (we were supposed to be at the silver arena) and that his autographed tag was mine to keep. Gawd, I love Wesley.
After 70minutes of concert time, it ended. It was short but well worth it. Ended up jumping in spurts, sweating with the rest of the people, almost toppled over when someone made a body slam at me. Good thing Francis caught me before I embarassed myself. There was this one crazy guy (Caucasian) beside us who was standing still throughout the concert. I wanted to like say, "Hey man, you're in a f*cking rock concert! You're supposed to bang your head, wave your hands like crazy, and jump till you can't jump anymore." But didn't. I concentrated with enjoying myself and trying not to hit him in any way. Francis and I banged our heads, waved our hands, and jumped with all our might -- with him ending up with legs cramps right after the concert.
We tried going to Pier One for some drinks since it was only 9:45pm. It turns out, everybody in the concert decided to go there as well. So we headed up to Malate, which is the nearest gimmick area from the concert. My first time there.
Along Roxas Blvd., the aircon of the car went loco and it started to smell funny. Then the engine died. Funny thing was, we were stuck in the middle of this huge road with an ambulance with its sirens on right behind us. Francis had to get out of the car and signal the ambulance to move to the other lane. I think if whoever was in that van died because of this delay, you can imagine the guilt
To continue, the car can no longer run but we reached Portico in Malate. We asked the girls to follow us there, instead of going to the agreed place prior to separating ways in the CCP parking lot. It ended up that the car overheated -- which is an understatement considering that it didn't cool down no matter how much water we put in. Until this morning as Wesley informed us.
We joked around telling Wesley that his good luck ran out on him. He said it didn't even last long or earned any interest. Butch said it's the way to balance the universe out. One good thing, one bad thing. What only made it worse for Wesley is that it all happened in one night. Oh well, at least his debt is paid. There's still Saturday night, though, to get lucky.
While waiting for the car to cool, I started pouring water in the radiator thingy and this car stopped by for a long time. Most passing cars were looking over at us cause the Wesley's car was sputtering and smoke was coming out. But this particular car, stopped and asked us if we needed help. Francis was answering them but they still won't leave. Finally, I looked to see and, lo and behold, two hotties were in the said car and looking at me asking me once again. They thought I own Wesley's car! Hahaha :) I thought it was a pick-up line and smiled, "No thanks, we're good." Francis said it wasn't, they just felt pity cause the guys I was with weren't doing anything to help me out. Butch said (or wasn't it him?) maybe they liked Francis or one of the other guys, hence they stopped to check the guys out. If Butch was right, women should cry for the loss of two cuties who opted for their own sex rather than ours.
Malate, I then realized, is such a strange place, but one where you can have one hell of a good time. As proven by the good things of the night, the mishaps, and the company I kept.
Looking forward to Saturday night. Fete de la Musique, here we come!
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