Dinner at Mr. Kabab, January 3, 2009
Whether it’s promise rings (a promise to get engaged) or monthsaries (a celebration of one month of being together), every couple does a Lame Couple Thing that other people probably roll their eyes at. Our Lame Couple Thing is the Meetsary – a celebration of the day we first met each other (which is different from the anniversary, the celebration of the day we became a couple). To me, it makes more sense to celebrate meetsaries rather than monthsaries, because it takes a very precise set of circumstances to bring two people together at the same place and at the same point of their lives where they more or less make a perfect fit. I bring this up because it’s been exactly a year since I first made googly eyes at Marco in Cantina, and I haven’t really stopped since. <3 We didn’t do anything major for our first meetsary – just dinner at Mr. Kabab with Anne and Helga, which oddly enough is exactly how I started my evening exactly 365 days ago.
The story of how I met my boyfriend begins with me ditching dinner with the Hohobags for dinner at Mr Kabab with the same set of people plus Luis. I didn’t mean to be so flaky but I haven’t had a beef chelo kabab in months, plus Helga and I just made up after minor drama happened. We had drinks at Cafe 77 after dinner and I was ready to call it a night as soon as I downed my second beer. For some reason, Kimi and Rica was unusually insistent about meeting them at Cantina for drinks. I declined their invitation at first but when they texted me again I figured, “Why the hell not?” This decision to go for more alcohol with the Hohobags turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. I’m sure I would have eventually met Marco at some point, but there’s no telling if we would have found each other as attractive or as interesting in the weeks or months after January 3, 2009.
Beer at Cafe 77
My friends and I had barely arrived at Cantina when I noticed that a new group of Hohobag college friends walked in. My eyes were immediately drawn to the cutest guy in the group – he had a rather strong facial structure and a sharp nose, unusual for Filipino guys. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a little and wasted no time doing my research.
“Is he gay?” I discreetly asked Kimi. All the guys I’ve met through the Hohobags turned out to be gay, and I had to verify this exciting new stranger’s sexual orientation before I got too interested. Kimi gave me a weird look and replied with, “What? No! That’s Marco. He’s -’s ex.” I like how I obtained two pieces of valuable information with just a single question! (I’ve decided to omit the name of his ex, just in case she Googles herself or something and ends up here. But whatever, the Philippines has a small middle class and she’ll end up finding this anyway. So if you’re reading this…thank you for dumping him! Would’ve been real tough to get Marco to notice me if he were in a relationship.)
Our table was too small to accommodate the new arrivals, so we transferred to a much larger one outside. The cute guy Marco already chose his seat, so I pushed through the crowd to take the chair across the table from him. I figured the only way I could get him to notice me is if I start a conversation and show how witty, charming, and cute I can be. Clearly I over-estimated my confidence, because I found myself completely tongue-tied after the introductions were made. I remember spending the first half hour or so freaking out in my head, desperately trying to think of something clever to say. Part of the reason why I had no confidence in myself was because I saw Marco up close, and he didn’t seem like the type who’d be interested in me. I’ve had such horrible luck dating “conventional” guys, and in his striped polo shirt he looked like an uptight business management major who pushes papers for a multinational and plays basketball on the side. It turns out that my first impression of him was very far from the truth (especially the one about his sexual orientation).
I soon learned that Marco works for a small events company who held an event for bloggers fairly recently. I dove headfirst for the opening – I’m a blogger! I attend events! What followed next was the lamest excuse I ever gave just so I could exchange numbers with someone. I swear to God if I could travel back in time, I would have kicked the Lauren of 2009 for being so LAME. He told me that the bloggers who attended his company’s event were not quite what they were expecting (to put it nicely). So I said something like, “Next time your company throws an event, get better bloggers. Like me. And Helga. Here, take my number!!!” I might as well have defensively added, “This exchange of numbers is strictly for work purposes! I don’t want to appear as if I’m interested in you because that might freak you out, but I do want an excuse to see you after tonight! So please, take my number!” Months later, Marco would tell me not to be so hard on myself; he would have eventually done the lame thing and get my number for “work.”
I was needlessly worried about awkward lulls in the conversation because Helga took it upon herself to be my inebriated wingman. She started asking him all these forward questions from out of nowhere: “What do you think about Marx? And capitalism?” (I don’t remember what he said.) “Do you like zombies?” (When he said yes, I immediately replied with “ZOMG NO WAY ME TOO.” I think my appreciation of zombie flicks is what got him really interested in me that night.) I wanted to crawl under the table and die when Helga asked if he was gay. (He isn’t.) And when she whipped out her camera and told me and Marco to move into the frame, I swear I felt my face burn with embarrassment.
Our first picture together, complete with an “Uyyy” comment from Helga when it was uploaded on Facebook
Cantina closed after an hour or so, but Marco and a few others were in the mood to drink some more. We moved to Meatshop 2.0 where we talked and drank until 4 am. I completely forgot the fact that I was ready to crash just a few hours ago; I was wide awake and thrilled to spend more time with my new crush. Marco and I didn’t say much to each other after we moved places but I strategically positioned my self so I could sneak the occasional glance at him. I didn’t know him very well, but I was already warning myself to be careful – I had the feeling that he could either make me really happy or break my heart. I placed all my bets on the latter because I never really did have much luck in love, especially with pogi, jock-boy type guys. It didn’t help that I was currently in a long distance relationship I couldn’t bring myself to end, even though we were clearly going our separate ways.
It’s really too bad, I remember thinking to myself as I went home that night. Marco looks like he’d make a really good boyfriend.
Me and Marco, January 3, 2010
Photo by Helga
