My bladder was our downfall. Mea culpa. I dread the idea of participating in Amazing Race-inspired competitions for several reasons. And it’s not just because I lack the chiseled physique, the matinee idol features and the carpet of chest hair. First of all, I am so lousy at competitive games that I even lose at solitaire. Second, I have already humiliated myself, my wife, my family, my barangay, my three female readers and the general Pinoy male population by admitting that my yaya continued to bathe me long after I had sprouted underarm hair. I do not require further humiliation. And, lastly, I have read that sudden bursts of adrenaline can accelerate my impending hair loss.
However, I found myself willing to sacrifice a few thousand strands for Samsung’s daylong Innov8 Race. This is because any man with enough testosterone coursing through his blood would gladly eschew his dignity to win a brand-new Samsung Innov8 (i8510). The is the type of cell phone that causes men to salivate without resorting to pornography: it has an eight-megapixel camera phone, surround-sound cinematic video, pre-embedded 3D games, high-speed data connections and some long-range nuclear missiles. If it had any more features, we could use the i8510 to take over a small Pacific island.
In the days leading up the race, I embarked on an intensive training regimen: I built up my stamina by watching all-night marathon episodes of The Amazing Race Asia (TARA), I honed my mental agility by coming up with witty remarks, clever sound bites and phrases chock-full of sexual innuendos, and to finally rid myself of pride, I bathed twice a day with my yaya.
Armed with an encyclopedic knowledge of every TARA contestant’s vital statistics, interesting euphemisms for male genitalia and well-scrubbed pink parts, I confidently strode towards the registration table on race day, where I found out that each team would be randomly composed of a Samsung representative, a cell phone dealer, a member of the press, and a six pack-sporting celebrity. As the mechanics of the game were being explained, I clasped my hands and prayed that God would group me with a pandesal-packed celebrity who had the agility, the determination and the experience to win this race. And also a celebrity who would not upstage me during the picture-taking sessions. God heard my prayer and he blessed my team with a veteran of a reality TV show race. This veteran was a man with no fear. A man with no scalp hair. And a man with no sense of geography. My team got TV host and roast chicken lover Rovilson Fernandez. (Why do you mock me, God? Why!?)
For those who do not know Maxim magazine executive editor and hair loss advocate Rovilson Fernandez or “Rovi” (as he is known by his close friends and the regular clientele of Adonis KTV), Rovi was partnered up with a man who is just too good looking to be left alive — Mr. Marc “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful and I have a thousand product endorsements” Nelson on last season’s AXN The Amazing Race Asia. Rovi and Marc were at the cusp of becoming the first Pinoy team to clinch the show’s grand cash prize, if only Rovi had paid more attention during his Social Studies class. But before Rovi and that damnable Marc Nelson were heterosexual life partners on TARA, Rovi and I were heterosexually dating for one season of Studio 23’s critically acclaimed late- night show The Men’s Room (my mom was very critical of it). While exposing ourselves gratuitously on public television, I discovered that Rovi and I shared a lot of common interests — a passion for the publishing industry, our undying love for women named Vanessa, and a tendency to recycle our underwear. Unfortunately, Rovi had to leave The Men’s Room once tsismis columnists had the temerity to accuse us of being romantically linked. Rovi would’ve wanted to stay on the show, but those rumors had scared away his best customers at Adonis KTV.
Once Rovi and I reconnected by making beso beso in the most masculine way possible, we began sizing up the celebrity and media participants. That’s when we realized that it would take more than our rugged good looks to win this competition. We were up against two seasons’ worth of Amazing Race Asia veterans who were divvied up amongst the competing teams. We slightly wet our pants when we spied ABS-CBN Publishing’s Ernie Lopez (TARA season one) and model Geoff Rodriguez (season three). But the contenders who made us feel like we were not yet circumcised were MetroActive editor-in-chief Jeena Lopez (season one), beauty queen Tisha Silang (current season three) and sportscaster Shaan Bermudez. Damn. Have you seen how physically intimidating these women are!? Each one of them probably had more cojones than Rovilson and I combined.
But emasculation aside, Rovi and I knew that our real competition in this race would be the powerhouse team of fellow STAR lifestyle columnist JR “The Power Broker” Isaac and former underwear endorser Jon “The Power Package” Hall. In our hearts and in our groins, karma saw to it that our teams went up against each other in a challenge that required grit, skill and man-cleavage — those two were our opposite numbers, our evil doubles from a parallel universe, and our bizarro twins. This was going to be a match of jock versus jock. And of pretty boy versus pretty boy. And I am so damn sick of having to play the jock. Again.
“Stop powdering your face!” I smacked Rovi at the back of his head. “And leave behind your kikay kit. We need to travel light.”
While applying some last-minute sunscreen to his scalp, I overheard Rovilson chanting in mantra-like fashion, “I cannot lose to Jon Hall, I cannot lose to Jon Hall…” I could guess how Rovi was feeling at that moment — that no other muscle-bound, almost hairless, alpha-male loverboy sex magnet deserved to win this race except for him. I felt exactly the same way as Rovi did, except for being an almost hairless loverboy. We knew we had to win versus our ersatz doppelgangers because our egos were on the line. We knew we had to win because a nuclear-powered cell phone was at stake. And we knew we had to win because we might become Samsung’s possible product endorsers.
As the other teams made a mad dash for the starting line, our four-man team started this race the best way we knew how: we strutted off to the banyo for a bladder break. What can I say? The race organizers served a lot of iced tea during breakfast. And I believe it is better to relieve one’s bladder voluntarily before a race than involuntarily during a race. Besides, if these teams had watched as many Amazing Race episodes as I did, they would know that there is no need to rush: the organizers would make sure that we would all leave the starting line at the same time. So after furiously scrubbing away our facial oil with blotting paper, we confidently strode towards the starting line expecting a line of photographers to snap our arrival. But instead, we were met by a really pissed-off games master.
“Where did you guys go!?” the games master screamed. “You’re the last team off the starting line! They all have a head start on you!”
Oh, no. Had we pissed away Rovi’s chance to redeem himself?
“Marc, why did you abandon me?” Rovi dropped his folically-bereft head into his palms. “I promised you I would read up on my geography.”
This race was off to a great start.
* * *
Next column: Part 2: Rovi’s road towards reality TV show redemption.
For comments, suggestions or the Rovilson Fernandez scandal DVD, please text PM POGI <text message> to 2948 for Globe, Smart and Sun subscribers. Or email ledesma.rj@gmail.com or visit my blog at www.rjledesma.net.