So I promised to write something about my encounter with the third kind. And it took me almost eight months to purge that trauma out of my life. Well not totally but it was enough for me to gather all the guts and spill my tarnished soul in this entry. As you might not know, there have been unknown visitors that had surreptitiously left their marks on my old blog. I don't intend to know them out of fear that I might just welcome my tormentor. But the passage of time and my degenerating memory prompted me to write this before each steamy moment loses its appeal as I continue to overcome the terror that almost consumed me during that fateful night.
It was on the eve of my 26th birthday when I saw a friend's photostream as they scaled Mt. Fuji. I learned from him that a group of Batanguenos will be sponsoring a field trip for the pinoy community in Tokyo that same weekend. So I didn't waste any time and asked for the group's contact details. It was a desperate attempt. Fortunately the guy in charge of the trip answered my email and called up to arrange my accomodation. He had been in Tokyo for almost a year then yet I know more japanese words than he does. And it suddenly occured to me, "what the hell am I getting myself into?", "I'll be going to Tokyo with only the words ikura(how much?) and doko(where?), and I all I have is this feeling that the guy I'll be meeting is gay!" Before I went to sleep, I checked him out in the net and I found two matches, both showed gayness to the highest level!
Here lies the brave Bjornik
(Aug. 31, 1981 - Aug. 31, 2007)
There was no turning back and I braved the 90-minute ride to Tokyo feeling empty and spaced out. As I alighted the train, I headed straight to Roponggi intersection where I saw drunk tourists who looked like half my age hitting on some Japanese girls that resembled like rape victims in hentai movies. I was even more terrified to catch myself praying for guidance. Suddenly the sun rose from the east and there IT was, Roderick! He was a stocky gay guy who was so full of himself and his D200 camera. I'll skip the parts where he bragged about going to 30+ countries and living in Geneva.
We had breakfast in Excelsior and he was kind enough to foot the bill. He said I looked famished and that he had much money to sustain himself. That bastard! We went back to his place to get his spare battery since we will be out the whole day for a photoshoot. He started to loosen up and show his true colors. He was very gay and he grabbed every opportunity to brush his rough hide on my trembling body. Trembling because I wanted to explode and beat the hell out of him. I was worried that the Yakusa and tokyo police would accost me for going out with this gay guy and lock me up in jail.
We had lunch in a fancy restaurant where the Japanese waiter never left our table. He went on babbling as he enjoyed practicing his english on us. I must admit that he speaks better than I. Again, Roderick paid the bill. It was the most expensive meal I've eaten so far and it made me feel more like a Hosto! He refused to accept my share of the bill, instead he caressed my forearm and admired the apoplectic veins that could have killed him that very instant. I raised my arm as if to summon all my nerve and flexed my biceps like I going to bitch slap him a powerful backhand! The evil eye was enough to send the message across. He backed off and took the toilet after me.
to be continued...