A few years back, I made a promise to myself that I will see everything that I could as a way of me living my life to the fullest. This included going to places I’ve never been to before, meeting different kinds of people and welcoming all possibilities and experiences. This is my quest for a better understanding of what the world was all about, its faces and places.
The red lights. One evening, my two soul sisters Jerry and Alex were having coffee in Starbucks, Malate. Like any other meeting like this, our conversation evolved around all the queerest topics we can touch. All of a sudden, we were at the steps of Whitebird, Baclaran. You see it started with my curiosity and I found out that even if these two were as gay as they can get, they have never been to a male strip club or ‘gaybar’ ever in their lives. So we decided to get ‘devirginized’ of the experience. Alex and Jerry paid Php150 each for their cover charges and I was charged Php200 because apparently, female guests have different rates.It was not as glamorous as I had pictured it in my mind. There were red couches, a stage, an ‘aquarium’ (an area were all the male strippers were with a one way mirror so that guests can select who they want to sit with them on their tables) at the far end of the club and a stage with a pole. I had said it was not all glamorous because there were only about a couple of dancers who had really nice bodies at nice faces to go with. I guess my standards for drop-dead gorgeous men are kind of ideal that’s why I thought that way. I looked around and realized that this place that they call a ‘gaybar’ had not much gay in it. Most of the couches contained older women or ‘matronas’ are what they are called. A term used as tagalong slang for sugar mommies.
The lies. That was not the last time that I had gone to a gaybar. I went to different ones and talked to the different people that consumed that choice of worldly entertainment. I talked to the waiters, the bar managers, security, some owners, the ‘macho dancers’ (male strippers), the staff and various guests. I’m a very friendly person and I normally look like somebody who would not bring any harm, maybe which is why they participated in my question and answer portions. Of course I had to take mental notes of my discoveries. I couldn’t be scribbling in a notebook, detective-style in front of them.
I discovered so much deceit going around those places. Imagine this, a guest selects one of the guys to sit with him/her for the time that he/she is in the club, the guy is bought drinks worth Php350-500/drink that he is obligated to finish off in 15minutes or less. Once finished, it’s either you buy him another drink, or he will leave your table and will be sitting with another guest. But these guys won’t let you just buy them 1 drink for the night. They will see to it that you will buy them as many drinks as you can afford and even more that you actually go out of budget for your night’s good time (probably even the money for your groceries and bills that you secured in your wallet) by luring you into their charms. And I am telling and you better believe this, they are VERY good at this. Next thing you know, you start falling in love with them and are handing them keys to a brand new car or a condo. Sad truth is, once you get sucked into this world, you will be literally sucked dry if you are not smart enough to see that it is all a show. People need money to survive. Their bodies, their natural charms, the lies they tell you about everyone getting sick in the family so they need cash, their skillful ways, etc. are all part of the greatest show ever mounted in the history of the earth. This show is their bread and butter, the bread and butter of everyone that works in these kinds clubs.
There are times when I go home, reflect and try to grasp a higher understanding on why these people (some have even become my friends) would want to work in terrible place like that and actually feed and clothe themselves and their families from treachery and disillusion. I really take the time to internalize on these realities because I would never ever want myself to be a walking hypocrite or some trying-to-show-the-world-that-I-am-righteous person because I highly dislike judging people. So to comprehend things better, I imagine myself in their shoes, living their lives, needing their needs and wanting their wants. I unleashed the Salome that was buried deep in my core and finally I understood.
I am Salome. There were times that I had to reach within to get her out of me (I hate it but there were few times that I had to) so that I could get the results I wanted whether it be something I needed, wanted or dreamed of and sometimes it was at the expense of others and it was never fair. It wasn’t fair to the people that had to serve as casualties of war for me. It wasn’t fair to me because I have to live with that part of me as an imperfect human.
I no longer frequent these places, all my questions have been answered and I have seen practically everything that went on, from the matronas sticking thousands of pesos into the dancers’ underwear and boots to the drama that enveloped the entire red light district scene. I don’t blame anyone who is addicted to the exposure of the festive atmosphere of the clubs, I just wish that like me, they would eventually see that when the curtain goes down at the break of dawn that they are actually inside hell on earth.
I thank my Creator and the universe for showing me all these things at a perfect time in my life for it made me a better person to others, less quick to judge and more in touch with the human in me, understanding that all our weakness are the same, we just incidentally channel them in different ways depending on our given situation and environment. I shelve this under ‘Lessons’ and ‘Realizations’.
***This part of my soul is dedicated to the victims of the great power of deceit, the people who were lied to (casualties of war) and who thought they needed to lie to survive.***
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