A Hazy Night
Happy 420, Y’all! Unlike President Bill Clinton, I Inhaled
When the clock struck high
It was New Year’s Eve 2003. To welcome the New Year, my friend invited me to come over and just party hop wherever our feet would bring us. We didn't have far to go, as the first party unfolded right outside my friend’s neighbor’s house.
The neighbor, already well into his cups, invited us over for a few drinks. Well, who can refuse someone already in his festive spirits? Besides, that is the whole point of the evening — to drink, get drunk, and be wasted.
I remember that night very well.
It was the only time I would spend in the company of my friend’s neighbor, despite being a frequent crasher at my friend’s home.
As I always say, with Filipino straight men, a drink would make them let’s say friendly with gay men, but while it was tempting, you don’t do your friend’s neighbors — it’s just one of the rules.
After a few drinks, we said goodbye and decided to join a countdown party. There is an undeniable magic in that moment when we all collectively anticipate the turning of the new year at midnight.
Even the most inebriated soul turns hopeful, if only briefly. But our night didn't end there; it was just the beginning.
My friend’s phone rang, and before long, we found ourselves in the posh condominium of a friend of a friend. On New Year’s Eve in Manila, the degrees of separation shrink to nearly zero. Everyone knows everybody, it seems.
As a gay man who came out late, I had attended few parties in my life. And this was the first time I celebrated New Year’s away from my family, where the celebration traditionally starts and ends with food.
Upon entering, I was struck by the contrast: while the revelers sported New Year’s attire and clutched drinks, scarcely any food graced the tables — only a few lonely saltine crackers.
I said to myself, “So this is how gay people party.”
Since I didn’t know anyone at the party, I stayed in one corner and watched the scene unfold, everyone talking animatedly despite the loud music. The guests were a happy bunch.
I would later find out why.
I noticed a room, where people went in and out and it wasn't the bathroom. It didn't take long before I was led inside.
And there it happened, someone offered me weed.
At first, I hesitated, but the last thing I wanted was to be remembered as that square guy, the one who attended the party but didn’t truly partake. So it didn’t take long before I inhaled, disregarding what Bill Clinton said or claimed.
When I was in England, I experimented with marijuana a time or two. And I didn’t like it. And I didn’t inhale and never tried it again.” — Bill Clinton, March 29, 1992.
I tried not to cough, but I did — because well, I inhaled. I didn't quite like it, and I didn’t notice anything different until a few minutes later when I started to get hungry.
With no real food at this party, being drunk and high left me munching on the saltine crackers in desperation.
Soon, people started leaving until it was just us four remaining — me, my friend, and the gay couple who were the hosts.
By this time, I started to feel differently. It wasn't just food that I was craving, but also sex. Was this all because of the weed? I silently wondered.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and he walked in. I recognized his face instantly. He was a famous actor who had quietly left the scene a few years back, amid swirling rumors about his sexuality, even when he was a married man.
I had encountered him before at the gym we both frequented, always quiet and keeping to himself.
But this time his demeanor was way different.
He was loud, which isn't surprising, as he must have been at another New Year’s party. The big difference was that he was now very much out and proud.
I guess he knew he was in a safe space.
Among like-minded friends or squirrel friends, lengthy introductions were unnecessary. But even in the presence of a celebrity, all I could think of were those two persistent cravings: food and sex.
In 2003, before the advent of online food delivery services, there was little I could do to satisfy my hunger leaving me to hope for some chocolates, at least.
My friend suddenly had to leave after a quick phone call. In our inebriated states, he must have forgotten I was with him, as I saw him walk out the front door.
It took me a few seconds to realize I was left alone with the gay couple and the actor.
My memories grew hazy after that point, but I can tell you this: there were a few kisses exchanged between me, John, Michael, the hosts, and the actor whose name I’ll withhold.
Hours later I was home, resolving, as Bill Clinton had, never again to do weed.
And I never did … see the gay couple again, that is.
Thank you for reading.
