My Philippine Vacation Ch. 01

I walked across the marble floored lobby towards a bank of elevators located all the way the back.

"No way," I thought as I looked around me. "This can't be right."

I was on the ground floor of a rather posh looking hotel in Manila. It was the first night of my trip to the Philippines and I had just either gotten fleeced to the tune of 500 Pesos or was about to discover a hidden diamond in the rough as the taxi driver had promised me.

As I got to the elevator, I reached for the button and stopped myself. Looking around, I surveyed my surroundings. The expansive lobby was elegant, yet cozy. The cold air conditioning was a welcome reprieve from the hot, muggy Manila evening.

Looking across the lobby, I saw the revolving doors through which I had entered. Standing dutifully by the doors was a nondescript security guard dressed in a formal Barong Tagalog, who had patted me down to check for weapons. Next to him was a police officer in uniform with a bomb sniffing dog. Right nearby was the front desk where a Korean couple was talking with the concierge.

Seems like a normal hotel scene like you'd find in any of the upscale hotels here in Manila

To my left, there was a clanking of dishes. In the lobby cafe, there was a Filipino couple having a late night snack and coffee. Entertaining them and the other patrons was woman in a red dress singing a jazz tune, while a man played on a piano.

I looked back at the elevator and shook my head. I walked over to a nearby bench and sat down.

I'm in the lobby of a normal fucking hotel.

I resigned myself to having lost 500 Pesos to that damn cab driver.

*****

The day had started well enough. I had arrived in Manila at about noon on a flight from JFK by way of Incheon, South Korea. After a nightmarishly long line at Immigration and getting my bags, I was met at the airport by a hotel driver. After a short drive to the hotel along Roxas Boulevard, I was able to get checked in. After settling into my 24th floor deluxe room overlooking Manila Bay, I made a few calls, and then crashed the whole afternoon.

When I woke up, I got ready, and hopped a cab from my hotel going to Makati. At about 7pm, I met my cousin Ramon at The Greenbelt Mall. It was an open air mall with several restaurants, bars, and high end shops. It was in an upscale section of town and the place was a favorite among tourists, expats, and some of the upper class Filipinos for shopping, dining, and entertaining.

It had been a few years since I had seen Ramon. He was the son of my Dad's sister and worked in banking in one of the local branches of a multinational bank. Growing up, we saw each other nearly every summer as his family would visit us in New York. Since we were both only children, we became like brothers, despite the distance. Over the years, whenever he came to New York on a business trip, I'd show him around. We'd hit the bars, chat up and bed beautiful women, and have an all around good time.

This time, however, it was his turn to be the host. When we were younger, since his family made the yearly trek to New York; my family never made the trip to Manila. The last time I had been here, I was too young to remember. After years of him bugging me to come visit him and "see the motherland and raise some hell" as he put it, I had finally broken down. I put in for three weeks of vacation that I had accumulated due to my workaholic tendencies and had made the nearly 20 hour trip to this tropical setting.

Over a bucket full of San Miguel Beer, rice, grilled squid, and the sizzling pork dish that is sisig, we got caught up. He apologized in advance that he couldn't stay out too late, the next day being Friday, he still had work to go to. However, he assured me that he just had to work this coming week and then he would have two weeks of vacation of his own. So I had a week on my own to do whatever (or whomever) I'd like, then we'd have two weeks together to cause all sorts of trouble in the old country.

We made some tentative plans as we people watched. He pointed out a few local celebrities in the crowd. I noted quite a few striking Filipino women who were accompanying foreign tourists. Ramon laughed at my observation.

"Dude, maybe a few of them are local girls on a date. But I'm thinking most of them are...well, they kinda do that professionally." He smiled.

I laughed. I knew Manila and the Philippines' darker reputation. To be completely honest, in the past Ramon had used that aspect as reason why I should visit.

"So Ryan, do you have a girlfriend or anyone you're seeing back home in New York?"

"Nope"

I looked over at my cousin who sported a Cheshire grin.

"You are going to have a memorable 3 weeks my friend! Just let me take care of things and you'll find that there ain't nothing finer than a Filipina."

"It didn't stop you from having a threesome with those Puerto Rican chicks that one time."

He smiled at the memory.

"Still. Just go out and meet some and tell me for yourself. But I stand by my words my man. Ain't nothing finer than a Filipina."

I grinned. I knew my cousin well enough that he wasn't being nationalistic or ethnocentric; he was just a connoisseur to put it mildly.

"Just keep your cellphone close, so I can keep in touch with you." He had earlier given me a local SIM-card to use with my phone.

After a few hours, another bucket of San Migs, he stumbled off to head home. He promised to get in touch with me tomorrow, so we could plan "the best fucking vacation you'll ever have here."

After he left, I looked at the crowd again. I had to admit that Ramon was right in one aspect. Many of the Filipinas in the crowd were striking, pros or not. Because I grew up and lived in multiethnic New York City, I had only dated a few Filipinas. Well, not really. They were really Filipino-American just like I was. More American than Filipino.

I had never really been with a full blooded Filipina.

I made my way over to a nearby taxi stand and opened the door of a waiting cab. I told the driver the name of my hotel and he began to drive off into the Makati night.

He looked back at me in the mirror and I met his glance.

"On vacation sir?"

"Yes, I am."

"You look Pinoy sir, but you have an accent. Are you a Fil-Am?"

"Yes, from New York."

"Ahh, New York! My brother lives in New York, maybe you know him?"

I chuckled thinking of the rather sizable Pinoy community in the Tri-State area.

"Are you enjoying your stay?"

"I only just got here this morning. But I'm here for three weeks. I just met some family for dinner and drinks at Greenbelt."

The driver nodded as he made his way through the Makati traffic. He glanced up at me through the rear view mirror.

"Going home already? It's not that late."

Come to think of it, I was wide awake. It was only 11pm here, but my body was still on New York time.

"Perhaps you'd like me to show you around Manila? Show you some sights or some fun places?"

I look up at the rear view mirror and noticed the driver smiling.

"I maybe just a simple cab driver, but I know the places. You say you got in this morning? Maybe you'd like a massage after such a long trip?"

I smiled. This driver was a man after my cousin's heart.

"Suppose I did. What would the arrangement be?"

"Well, if I drove you straight home to your hotel, the fare would be about 100 Pesos. If you'd like, I can turn off the meter and you give me 400 flat, I can show you some places you might like."

I mulled it over in my head. I did come here to have some fun on my vacation and 400 Pesos was the equivalent of only $10 US.

"Friend, how about this. I'll give you 500 Pesos and you find me a nice, clean, high quality place where I can get a message and maybe more. It's more than you asked for in your offer, so you better pick a good place. None of those seedy places in Cubao or Binondo."

"Yes, sir! I know just the place."

*****

"Here?! You've got to be kidding me!"

"Believe me sir. This is the place. Just go inside, go to the elevators in the very back of the lobby and take it to the twelfth floor and you'll find it there."

I wanted to believe the guy, but my cynical New York side wanted to tell him to kiss my ass and just keep driving to my hotel. We had driven up to another hotel along Manila Bay on Roxas Blvd., about a mile from my own. I had actually considered staying at this hotel when I was planning my trip here.

I sighed. Should I believe the cabbie? From the descriptions of the place he had told me, part of me wanted to believe him and get out.

"Sir, have faith in me. Just go on, go to the twelfth floor and you'll have a really good time."

*****

Five hundred pesos. Oh well. Lesson learned. There was no way there was a message parlor on the twelfth floor of this hotel. When I was looking at this place in planning my trip, I knew that the hotel gym & spa were here on the ground level. A hotel like this doesn't have a hidden massage place on the upper floors. I sat back enjoying the frigid air conditioning before having to head out into the heat and humidity.

As I was about to get up to head across the lobby and head out, I noticed a woman walking to the elevators in front of me and pressed the call button.

I tried not to stare. But it was difficult not to. The clomp-clomp of her stilettos against the marble floor is what drew my attention. It was her appearance that kept it.

She was tall for a Pinay, perhaps 5'7" or 5'8" without the heels. She had the long raven hair typical of most Filipinas. Her makeup accentuated a pair of soft sensuous brown eyes. She was thin, but toned; definitely someone who took care of her body. Long legs and a curvy yet firm looking butt were encased in a pair of dark denim skinny jeans. She wore a short, tight spaghetti stringed top that showed off a navel ring.

As good as all that sounds, they weren't what my eyes were gravitating towards. A pair of succulent breasts were absolutely pouring out of her tight top. Most Filipina women have smallish breasts. Maybe an A or a B. I was looking at a pair of delicious C (or God help me, D) cup breasts. And the air conditioning I had been enjoying earlier helped point out that she wasn't wearing a bra. A delicious set of nipples were poking through her thin top.

Lord have mercy. I could feel my erection growing in my jeans.

Dammit!

Before I could look away, she glanced at me.

Damn. Caught me looking.

However, I just couldn't stop looking at her. Most Filipinas in such a situation would be demure and look away shyly.

Not this one. She kept meeting my gaze and the beginnings of a smile crept onto her mouth. The elevator sounded and she got on. She kept smiling at me. As the doors were closing, she glanced down towards my crotch, look back up at me and gave me a wink.

I looked at the elevator intently as the floor indicator changed.

3...4......8...9...11...12.

Stopped at the twelfth floor.

Hmm. Maybe I didn't throw away that money after all.

I got up and hit the call button. After a minute or so the same elevator came down and the doors opened. I breathed in the fresh smell of berries as I hit the button for the twelfth floor.

The doors closed and the elevator was on its way up.