Much Ado About Going Out

It was my first night-out in months and all roads leading to Green Planet in Jupiter St. were flooded. My nightlife has been dormant for so long that I, along with some friends, braved the rains and the rising waters to get to the bar. Getting a cab was a challenge but, heck, there was no way this bit of disaster would stop us from having fun.

I never thought I’d miss going out. I was never a party animal like my friend, my constant gimmick companion who had the misfortune of flying to Singapore and setting up base there. I say misfortune because all ever hear from her is endless caterwauling because of her equally pathetic social life. She has developed friendships there and has resumed her drinking binges amongst the company of exhausted executives like her. However, she complains of not having any cool place to hang out in. If you dig 80s music and pop songs, go to Singapore and wallow in them. Last I heard, Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up" is still tops on the dance floor. Upon hearing Astley’s bass-y voice, she was reminded of Roderick Paulate and suddenly became homesick. The friends that have remained here are as lazy as I am, preferring to drink coffee in the early evening or catch a movie on weekends than stay out until 2 a.m. to watch some unknown band in some unknown, smoky dive.

Since my friend’s departure, my idea of a "gimmick night" changed from walking the streets of Malate in search of a haunt, to treading the air-conditioned floors of the mall and going to record bars to sample the latest CDs. (I bet the security guards of these establishments are just waiting for their sensors to detect some stolen goods from my bag. I’m there almost everyday and they’re probably getting suspicious.) I have become such a fixture in Megamall that people might be able to recognize me if the mall’s personnel hang me by the neck as a display.

This particular Saturday night would be different, I thought. Not even typhoon Juan could prevent me from seeing my musician friends play. My usually-square pals were surprisingly in the mood for a good time. Despite the hour-long wait for a cab to take us there, the endless haggling paid off. We dragged our soggy shoes inside Green Planet and filled ourselves with the indie spirit. A couple of guys playing an acoustic set was a sight to see. The music was great and the company cool.

The experience was a whooper, much like the weather. And I look forward to another stormy get-together in the near future.

E-mail the author at lmpilapil@philtown.com.ph