Metro Manila Macho Dancers

Any Drink Is A Macho Drink

IT’S only recently that I realized any drink ordered by a macho dancer qualified as a macho drink.  This clearly meant the Del Monte Fit and Right Passion Fruit Juice Drinks my stripper-tablemate ordered in lieu of the San Miguel Beer Light were considered macho drinks.  This is by virtue of being so ordered by the macho dancer himself.  The other dancer, groggy after downing several bottles of light beer courtesy of two previous patrons, had Nescafe instant coffee, which set me back nearly four hundred pesos (about $9 US Dollars) a cup.  The people around us were raising eyebrows and chuckling on seeing the dancers drinking “something unusual.”

Good thing I told the waiter the dancers should decide for themselves instead of me ordering drinks for them.  Besides I did not even know what they would like to have.  Hearing this, the two men clarified whether they could have something else other than beer because they were intoxicated.  “By all means,” I assured them.

Previously, a macho dancer in a rival bar located south of Manila told me they had to ask for their guests’ permission before ordering any non-beer beverage and that, usually, Filipino patrons would want their dancer-tablemates to drink beer.  It’s a different case for me.  I let the dancer decide on his drinks.  I can have Del Monte Pineapple Juice Drink and the dancer can have it, too, if he likes.  Otherwise, he can order gin tunic after gin tunic till he gets drunk.  He pays for his drinks, anyway.  Just a joke.

Who knows my future table-mate will order ginger ale?  Ginger ale as a macho drink?  Why not?  That would certainly cause more eyebrows to raise.


Hoy, Bakla! (Hey, Transvestite!)

“HOY, BAKL!” said someone close by.  I turned around to see who it was and there he was sitting with what appeared to be a transvestite in a corner two tables away from where I was.  The culprit was the stripper.

Bakla.  The closest English translation is transvestite, a male person who talks, sounds, and behaves like a woman and wears make-up, and not gay.  But the local effeminate homosexuals insist on the term “gay” as the best translation of the local term bakla.  But it’s not our attempt to further delve into this matter.  Our discussion right now is the use and overuse of the Philippine term “bakla” as a term of endearment, as a term of insult, and as a moniker.

As a term, bakla looks intriguing, especially for those not familiar with it.  Within the local transvestitedom, the term is used, overused, and abused, and even killed, if you will.  Within their own circle, the use is acceptable, I used to presume.  Outside the bakladom, I thought the use of it is inappropriate, unacceptable, and demeaning.  But that was then.  Now many an Indio employs the term and abuses it.  Even the bakla folks themselves have since accepted this cultural practice.  But there are some members of the purple corps who abhor the practice of using such a term as a moniker for a certain person instead of calling him by his own given name.  Their contention, as explained above, is that calling an openly transvestite person “transvestite”, that is, by his own gender preference, is inappropriate and insulting already.  Do you really have to rub it in?

People have names and they expect to be addressed by their names, which is why their names are there.  Why on earth would you call Carlos “bakla” instead of by his name, which is Carlos?  What are you up to then?  To piss him off or tease him about his gender preference?  How would straight Leonardo feel and react if his bakla neighbors from across the street address him as “straight guy” or simply “straight” instead of calling him Leonardo?  “Hey, straight Leonardo, can you give me a hand?”  How would he take it?

There is no doubt in anyone’s mind he wouldn’t like it.  Or, how would a local cop react if somebody would go up to him to ask for help?  “Excuse me, straight officer, I need your help.”  Certainly, this statement wouldn’t sit well with him.  “Tunay na lalake” (real guy) when employed to call a straight guy’s attention does not seem nice to hear on the part of straight-as-arrow men.  Or, does it?  They, too, will feel insulted, and may probably whine about it.

Or, is it right to assume that when a real, straight person calls a sissy local man “bakla”, he is simply trying to endear himself to the latter; hence, bakla becomes a term of endearment.  Even women address their bakla friends “bakla” instead of calling them by their respective names.  That is interesting.

I guess there are many in the mainstream society who simply lack respect for people of a different gender preference and these same people need to be re-educated.  But then, even so-called schooled and educated animals are too bigoted, indifferent, and hostile towards the bakla folks.  Transvestites are normal people and are just as normal as anyone else on this planet.

The clock was about to strike 2am and the effeminate patron was getting ready to leave.  The straight stripper-mate was getting ready, too, but not to walk his guest to the exit door.  He was excited about the tip money the customer might give him.  A manager joined them.  The dancer excused himself after the bar official pulled him aside.  The manager and the patron were seen in a serious huddle.  After a while, the former escorted the latter outside.  “Ingat po kayo (You take care),” the manager was heard telling the customer.  Back inside, the executive approached the stripper and handed him something.  “Two hundred, lang! (Just two hundred pesos!)”  the disappointed macho dancer wailed.  “ Putang inang bakla (Your mother is a bitch, you transvestite!).”

Now, that’s even more insulting and demeaning!

It’s Lust At First Sight, Baby

“I LOVE YOU, ALREADY,” the effeminate patron told his dancer-mate who chuckled on hearing his guest’s words.  If the former was dead serious about his feelings for him, the latter considered his assertion a result of drunkenness, if not, mere infatuation.  Many a macho dancer bar customers suffer from infatuation overdose and many more appear to have a tough time recovering from it.

Mistaking lust for love is dangerous, mind you, and discovering and eventually fixing this emotional blunder at the earliest time are important.  Homosexual patrons get attracted to and fall for male strippers faster than their female counterparts and, in the end, most of them fall prey to financial predators.  This is not to say all macho dancers are suckers for dough and will do anything in their capacity to milk money from the people they are in a relationship with.  That’s a sweeping generalization.

So it was that the sissy customer would always seek out the object his affection, reasoning he was in love with him.  But the apple of his eye was unaware of this and could not fathom his guest’s “Cloud 9 experience”, despite the numerous instances in which he told the stripper of his “affection for him.”

It’s lust at first sight, baby.  It’s not love.  Of course, there are people who believe in love at first sight, but millions more do believe in lust at first sight.

As a guest, you expect “some kind of sweetness” from your dancer-mate.  As a macho dancer, it’s also his responsibility to reciprocate his guest’s display of niceness, fondness and courteousness and his actions should not be interpreted in such a manner that you, the customer, think the stripper loves you too.  No emotional attachment, please.  Nothing personal, either.  Just doing his job.  Hope that makes everything clear.  Don’t cross the red line; and there is one and the bar patron simply needs to be aware of it.  The moment he crosses the red line, the consequences are terrible, but it’s not our present intention to attempt at exhaustive treatment of this issue.

It’s damn lust at first sight.  There’s no question about it.  Is it because his face looks boyish, angelic, pleasant, cute, handsome, or attractive that you think you like him?  And because you like the good-looking macho dancer, you think, or shall we say feel, you love him, already?  You lust after him.  Come on, anyone lusts after the person he likes.  It happens to anybody.  It’s normal.  But to say “it is true love” that you are feeling toward him and to express “I love you, already” is crazy.  If it’s not love, it surely is infatuation, which is the cousin of “true love”.  But if it’s not love, and it isn’t, it certainly is lust.  There is no question about it.  Lust is normal.  But to let concupiscence rule over you and dictate your actions to the extent that you start sexually harassing the stripper is not normal anymore.

It’s imperative upon macho dancer bar customers to learn to distinguish between lust and love.  This is not to point out that you cannot find true love in an unexpected place called “male strip bar”, because a male stripper is also capable of showing true love toward anyone.  But you can’t find and catch true love at twelve midnight in a male entertainment bar.  No, you can’t.  But lust?  You can find it anywhere and anytime.  Just be careful.

On Foreign Customers As Walking ATMs

THEY look, think, and speak different and just because they are not the locals’ kind, they are to be treated disadvantageously.  But foreign customers are virtual walking automatic teller machines (ATMs) in the eyes of local macho dancer bar folks.  The ability of, say, a Caucasoid North American man to travel overseas reinforces the idea that all non-locals are wealthy or, at least, financially privileged and they are to be taken advantage of.  It’s absolutely wrong to assume that an Irish customer who walks into a Parañaque-based male strip bar is moneyed, by virtue of his racial background and his looks.  Overseas tourists planned their trips well and they saved money for such purposes, something most locals do not do.

There is this dangerous mentality amongst the locals that foreign guests must be treated like royalty, if only to get bigger tip money.  Unbeknownst to the strip bar folks this thinking only makes the foreign guests think of the locals as predators who are ready to pounce on their preys.  It also makes them reconsider their decision to make a return visit to the same place.  The narrow-mindedness and opportunistic attitude of these bar employees are advertising macho dancer bars as havens for desperate suckers for money.

It’s about time macho dancer bar folks start behaving professionally and broad-mindedly and shed whatever misconceptions they have about foreign guests.  But then it’s like asking for something that will never come.  The mentality seems deep-rooted and you can move heaven and earth but it still remains embedded.

The MD Is Now a Callboy

HIS heyday is over and he came to a point when he was dead broke.  Turning to his friends and former work-mates was unthinkable as they too were hard-up.  Robbing someone or a store was out of the question since he is a church-going Roman Catholic who believes in karma.

He recognizes he has no employable skills.  He completed only a semester of college work, which could not even land him a decent job.  All he has are his good looks, because he knows how to take care of his health, and his still nice body, courtesy of weekly fitness training.

All he could think of was sell his body just so he could make ends meet.  And that’s exactly what he has been doing since leaving the macho dancer bar industry.

There’s nothing wrong with being a prostitute so long as you are responsible and professional.  Stealing or duping others all in the name of money is what’s bad and unethical.  You just have to make sure you don’t get into trouble or you are dead.  Speaking of dead, he will die a painful death, and die he shall, if he contracts HIV.

Fortunately for him, he has remained single at 33 and has not sired any children.  He continues to live alone in his small rented room somewhere in Cainta, Rizal.  His two siblings are employed while their widowed mother runs her own sari-sari store.

He won’t and can’t stay long in this kind of work.  With his savings, if he has any, he can certainly start a small lucrative business.  All it takes is the will to do it.  Of course, he has to put passion into it for it to become even more successful.  He also must not let shyness get in the way.

Let’s hope for the best for this guy.

Look-Alikes of Local Movie Stars

IT’S fascinating to meet and even to talk to look-alikes of local actors and other showbiz personalities in an unlikely place called a macho dancer bar.

You try to figure out how this has happened but the thought only makes you smile.  Hey, it’s possible to have look-alikes.  You imagine what it feels to be adored for simply resembling a certain actor, but even a particular macho dancer-look-alike of a local showbiz star is not flattered!  Fact is he is ashamed of the attention he is getting.  Is that so?  You think it kind of boosts his ego but it does not.  But you know there are strippers you assume enjoy the attention they are getting for being look-alikes of some stars.

You are awestruck at seeing them from a distance, which is when they bear even more striking resemblances to certain personalities.   The idea of having them up close tempts you and, when you finally do find yourself sitting next to them, you realize they look rather different from when you see them from a far.  You discover things you wished you had not seen at all.  But then that’s the painful truth.

Seeking an audience or wishing for a dinner-date with a particular star is unthinkable so having his look-alike on a particular night is like spending time with the real one.  At least, it’s almost a reality.

Every now and then, names like Jolo, Jordan, Alfred, Stanley, King, Cesar, and Justine still ring a bell.  These strippers did look a lot like some particular local actors.  Jolo was diminutive just like Jolo Revilla and was almost a lot like him.  Jordan, in some ways, looked like Jordan Herrera and was famous for his winning smile.  Alfred was always mistaken for actor-turned-politician Alfred Vargas.  Boyish-faced Stanley bore a striking resemblance to actor Niño Mulach and was adored by a few financially privileged customers despite his pimple problem.  Floor managers in his work place all agreed Cesar closely resembled Coco Martin.  Justine could pass for Wendell Ramos.  What about King?  Well, King was often mistaken for a particular East Asian pop star and he kind of enjoyed that recognition.  There was even this tall, thirty something stripper with Caucasoid features and his colleagues always referred to him as “Tom Cruise”, because, according to them, he looked like that famous Hollywood actor.  And there was this floor manager who was almost an exact replica of show business personality Boy Abunda.  It’s worth reminiscing about those times you were once with them.  Perhaps, on your next visit to a macho dancer bar, you might bump into a look-alike of Christian Bautista.

Remembering Pretty Boy Macho Dancer Bar

This photo is the property of the Gonograd Resident

The business name was attractive but at the same time deceiving.  The young entertainers were not pretty boys, only average looking but they were courteous and humble.  The location was kind of dangerous, which must have scared some potential customers who would not risk their precious lives for some erotic shows, as the macho dancer bar was housed in a building on a dimly-lit portion of Quezon City’s notorious Aurora Boulevard.  Pretty Boy Entertainment Bar was more famous with the lower-class crowd for its occasional live male-to-male sex shows, the same shows staged by those smaller similar bars found along Manila City’s Rizal Avenue.