Tight where it counts

Ever since I breached the Big Three-O several tasteful years ago, I have been on a constant and mildly desperate search for ways to maintain the boyish good looks that I pay people to say that I am famous for. More importantly, I struggle to maintain these looks without having to resort to surgery such as buying a cryogenic freezer, offering virgin sacrifices (of coconut oil, of coconut oil!) and repainting my face over Dorian Gray’s portrait.

Much like the DOMs who have been around since the Mesozoic era, I staunchly refuse to give in to the tyranny of age. Think about it: I already have to contend with treacherous hair strands abandoning my scalp, then I still have to contend pa with my drooping laugh lines? What else will age take from my virility? My disproportionately large lower extremity? The oppression of age has to stop somewhere. 

Thus, I chose to do the right thing. No, no — not more virgin sacrifices. I went for a non-surgical treatment. 

One new treatment called Refirme can apparently make your drooping or sagging skin tighter than the caps on virgin coconut oil bottles. If I understand correctly, signs of aging such as fine lines, wrinkles, eye bags, sagging, laugh lines, jaw lines and double chins (much to the chagrin of the Chin population that has taken residence there) will be reduced as drastically as the Democrats in the United States Congress. Even turkey neck, crow’s feet and other visible forms of bird infestation on your face and skin will be virtually wiped out, too. Lastly, the treatment enhances dull skin tone of your face to a brightness that cannot be achieved by excess oil-producing glands alone.

And to achieve this Refirmed quality of skin requires a certain type of stimulation that you cannot achieve on your own.

Treat Me Right

Before the treatment, I asked the consultant how many Refirme treatments it would take until I was as good-looking as Piolo Pascual. She laughed (although I have no idea why) then replied that all treatments will improve the quality of your skin, but she could not guarantee matinee idol looks and multimillion-peso endorsement deals. Fine, I said. I would settle to be good-looking younger version of RJ Ledesma (if that is remotely possible). 

When I entered the treatment room, I slipped into a bathrobe, took a long, look at the full-length mirror, and mocked my un-Refirmed self one last time. Then the therapist wheeled in a machine that resembled the love child of a nail gun and a nuclear reactor. I gulped, then started to mumble nervously.

RJ LEDESMA: Um, miss? So you’re saying that after my treatment is finished, I will regress back to my baby-like complexion again? And will I completely bypass the acne of my adolescent years? Is that how the treatment works?

REFIRME THERAPIST: Sure, Sir! (Although I am not totally sure she knew what I was mumbling.)

How long will it take until I achieve the skin tone from before my pre-armpit hair days?

Usually 10 sessions, Sir, once a month.

But make sure the armpit hair stays, ha?

Sir, right after the first session you will already notice the difference. There will be a tightening effect around your face. But the treatment requires maintenance.

So I need to continue with the virgin sacrifices? I see. How young will I actually look like when I am done with my treatments? Will my new look resemble my showbiz age? My mental age? My emotional intelligence age?

That really depends. How old are you, Sir?

My talent manger says that I cannot disclose that based on our confidentiality agreement. But let’s just say that I can still remember which artistas appeared on the Thursday edition of That’s Entertainment.

Well, once you hit 35 and up…

Aray. 

…Your collagen production starts to decrease. But after the treatment, you might even look as young as 25! You will really notice that your skin will lift.

That means I won’t have to touch Dorian Gray’s painting for several more years. And why is stimulating my collagen important? Because if stimulation was important, then No Girfriends Since Birth would look eternally youthful.

This machine we use for the treatment produces heat that stimulates your collagen. Collagen is a naturally occurring protein that keeps our skin looking young. So a lot of older men undergo this treatment when their faces are really sagging.

So there must be a lot of DOMs using your services?

(Laughs) Yes, Sir!

No wonder so many of those men in the lobby looked familiar.

The Heat Is On

The therapist started the session by patting my face with a pair of cotton swabs to wipe away the dirt, dust and oil (which took quite some time given that my face produces enough oil to open up a refinery). After which, she applied a toner so that my pores would be open enough for cargo vessels to pass through and allow my face to be stimulated by the heat coming from the love child machine.

She then proceeded to slather the left side of my face all the way down to the base of my neck with thick, cool gel. Wow, she will be massaging my face back into youthful consistency, I thought. That wouldn’t be too bad. But the therapist flipped a switch and the love child machine also known as the Electro-Optical Synergy (ELOS) Machine whirred into life. My buddy ELOS was about to become very intimate with me and explore places that even my wife has refused to venture into: he would be getting under the dermal layer of my skin with a combination or low-energy broad spectrum and radio frequency to warm it up and cause the collagen to contract. And hopefully, one of the side effects of this treatment would turn me into a mutant superhero with the power to spew fire or broadcast any FM radio station at will.

Once I had my wife’s permission for ELOS to get under my skin, the therapist explained how I would achieve that elusive youthful glow: she would be shooting me in the face and neck 1,000 times. ELOS would be taking target practice at each half of my face 400 times and then taking aim at my progressively increasing forehead 200 times. Wow, if people only knew that I was going to be shot in the face and the neck this many times, they would have started lining up to take turns.

The therapist took the ELOS and started to go ballistic on the left side of my face. The shots started off in the area where my neck met my jaw line, then climbed up to the side of my neck, curving around my lower lip, took a detour to my cheek bones, crossed over to my sorely abused laugh lines then rolled around the sides of my eyes. Strangely enough, as ELOS traversed the geography of half my face, those shots of heat merely felt like raps against my skin. It was either those were lukewarm shots or my skin had developed a kapal mukha (thick-faced) consistency.

After turning half my face into a battleground, the therapist paused. “Would you like to compare the change in your face, Sir?”

“Sure.” I said while crossing my fingers hoping that I did not resemble Two-Face from Batman.

She held up a mirror to my face and my jaw dropped. I could see that the left side of my face did look every so slightly more gwapo (handsome) than my right side (if that is even possible). My cheeks were a bit more taut, my neck lines was a little less visible and my laugh lines looked a bit less abused. 

“Continue with haste!” I commanded her. “My renewed visage cannot wait any longer! I owe it to my three female readers.”

With that, the therapist gleefully proceeded to blast away another 400 times at the right side of my face to make sure my kagwapuhan would become symmetrical once again.

And finally, just like all good movie trilogies (except for Superman III and Batman and Robin), we entered into the final showdown, the senses-shattering conclusion, the ultimate battle between good and wrinkle: ELOS versus my forehead. Would 200 infrared radio frequency bullets be enough to eradicate the lines on my forehead? Or would my forehead require a small-scale nuclear weapon? 

The therapist used her forearm to wipe away the sweat from her brow. “Sir? The skin on your forehead is thinner than the other parts of our face. So you might feel some pain with these shots.”

Pain? Pain!? Ha, she doesn’t think I have a high threshold for pain? What led her to believe that? Just because I was screaming like a straight man in a Saudi prison during the whole procedure? Well, let me tell you something, sister. I know about pain. I’ve lived through 30-something years of being made palo (spanked) in the behind, I’ve lived through getting fetched by my yaya from college, and I’ve lived through being fitted with a rusty chastity belt two sizes too small by my father-in-law when I was still dating my wife. I’ve lived through enough pain in body parts too sagging to mention. So how bad could it be?

Well, I found that that I hadn’t lived enough just yet. 

Admittedly, the first couple of shots around my scalp made me practice my falsetto, but after the first several hundred shots you eventually grow used to it. As ELOS shot the center of my forehead, traced a route across my scalp, traveled down to my scalp then criss-crossed to the other side, all I did was to grind my teeth, dig my nails into the meat of my palms, and make sure that the underwear I was wearing was appropriate to my emotional intelligence age.

After the treatment was over and the therapist had taken off my restraints, she applied a healing cream all over my face that left a tingling sensation across the arc of my forehead.

“Would you like to take another look at yourself, Sir?”

I took a deep breath, whispered a short prayer and then grabbed the mirror from her hands. And then I opened my eyes.

Oh, dear Lord. I was stimulating. ELOS had subtracted a face that had been ravaged by unpaid credit card bills, domestic stress and several years of the GMA administration. The frown lines that cut across my forehead were now more a faint trace, my laugh lines had receded significantly (which means I could abuse them a bit more), and the sides of my eyes were now bird-free. I looked all of three years younger, which is still quite a feat considering that that’s about 21 in dog years.

So, that’s one treatment session down. Now just 9,000 more shots and several adult diapers to go. Nonetheless, I know that despite the Refirme treatment, my wrinkles will return one day. But I would like that day to take place when my baby daughter turns 16.

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For more information on Refirme, call 813-7959.

You are all invited to the launch and book signing of my newest book “Is It Hot In Here or Is It Me? RJ Ledesma’s Imaginary Guide to Flirting, Body Language and Pick-Up Artists” on Nov. 25 (Thursday) 6 p.m. at Powerbooks, Greenbelt 4. Please buy a copy of the book and help single men find a date. For more information, visit www.rjledesma.net.