Player of the Game

Track 33: December, 1963 [Oh, What a Night] (Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons)

What was her name again? 

Jho forgot. All she know is that her skin was soft and graciously smelled like jasmine and May rose. Overall she seemed like an intoxicating mix of flowers, Stella Artois and Marlboro red-- the perfect flavor of distraction.

READ: Nope. Jho has never smoked her entire life so far. But the kind of joint was everywhere and everyone that looks like some dangerous guilty pleasure seems like a walking Marlboro red.

She's smart. Smart enough to drag Jho away from her lonely date with her nth bottle of beer.  She lost her liquor counter when the other started ranting about inflation. This convinced Jho that the night deserved more alcohol. She's such a sucker for intellects (especially when she's drunk). Their ideals sound like music to her ears.

Jho couldn't quite remember the flow of conversation they were having but she remembers having to answer the other girl's question of "How are you feeling?"

She remember responding with, "I feel like I'm a walking bad decision."

Amusement touched the corners of the other girl's lips. "I actually can relate. I dated this person kasi close sila no'ng taong gusto ko talaga." She shared without much reservation.

"Ang pathetic mo naman. You don't have a fight in you at all." If only Jho knew how she'd be saying the same things to her a few years later.

"Why not go for the person na gusto mo?" Jho asked with a beat tone.

"She's still hung up on her ex." The girl seemed to grappled with the words.

"She? You like girls?" Jho started to feel this  strange fleeting sensation. She gobbled up some beer to steady her already swaying stance.

"Yeah, problem with that?"  With the way the girl was running her hands through her hair and flashing this lopsided boyish smile, Jho's got a factory of problems. She settled with more beer on her counter to somehow ease the weirdness.

"Wala naman. Just... surprised. That's all." What she really meant to say was, 'I've never met someone like you and I somehow think you're worth the try.'

"Good." The girl maintained that boyish smile as she proceeded with her daiquiri. Jho was helpless. "In fact, she's busy getting drunk right now."

"Wag ka do'n. Problema'yan." Jho looked away to escape the building internal flutters. So she likes drunken not-getting-over-my-ex types of girls, huh. How fitting.

"You think so?" The girl's smile was full-on again. "But I haven't even started yet."

"Ikaw bahala. If you're so willing to chaperone your drunken dream girl while she cries about her ex, eh 'di sige. Push mo lang. Matyaga ka, eh."  Jho pointed out unaware of the reality of it all. 

The girl, in response, just gave her a fertilized grin. She clinked her glass with her bottle and they both drink to their silent celebrations.

For the rest of the night, they talked about things that made them laugh some more. They went on full-circle of trivialities to intellectual general information. But they always go back to their familiar dispositions which (as Jho vaguely remembers) involved  blaming the economic incidences for their unmotivated insipid life. Even to these kolehiyalas, economic issues seem inevitable to casual conversations.