GUILT TRIP 1: Magdalena

It's been a while since I last stepped inside a girlie bar. Perhaps the idea of ogling scantily-clad ladies lost their appeal after some time. Guess when you’ve seen one pekpek on parade, it doesn’t make much difference when a couple dozen more strut onstage. Your eyes become glazed with the same shapes and movements.

But last weekend in Baguio, my best friend didn’t have to ask me twice when he suggested we go to our old haunt, the Double O along Magsaysay Avenue. I hadn’t been inside the place in over three years but it seemed nothing much has changed since my last appearance. Even the DJ still spoke the same sing-song carabao English that only he seemed to fathom.

The ladies were doing their requisite gliding-on-the-catwalk routine when we came in. Wearing jologs dresses that barely covered their privates (I can’t imagine where on earth they buy those slutty dresses!), they made out like “models” with their twists and turns, while their eyes scoured the sea of bottles and drunken faces for potential customers.

Then the “show” began. First it was a fast disco number where the “model” absent-mindedly went through the motions of what passed for dancing. On the second song (a slow one this time), she started taking everything off, one piece at a time, until nothing is left.

Nothing. Except for a broken soul that stared at you relentlessly through vacant eyes.