Fridae

So there I was, sitting in yet another dim strip joint where some generic guy was grinding his hips onstage to some generic pop song when the friend beside me leaned over and asked, in a not-so discreet whisper, "Any idea when the impersonator starts?"

Yes. In Manila's gay bars, oftentimes the audience is more appreciative of the gay impersonators than the strippers. Even though this bar imaginatively named "Dreamboy" had a higher "cuteness" ratio than usual, it got boring after a while.

Particularly for my friend, who had just arrived, fresh from the fleshpots of Bangkok. You couldn't help but draw a contrast. Unlike Bangkok, where sex has practically become institutionalized, the male sex industry in Manila is still largely an underground indulgence - which means that there aren't any standards.

Depending on the "protection" paid to local cops, some strip bars need fronts pretending to be restaurants or normal clubs. A far cry from straight strip bars with plush d�cor and shameless signages.

In Bangkok's plethora of bars, you at least get soft seats and some sort of professionalism. The gay bars here, with a few notably expensive exceptions, are, for want of a better word, seedy. Most have poor lighting, plastic seats, and obstructed views of the stage (duh). Dancers take turns to twist unoriginally onstage, before stomping gracelessly off, sometimes without even finishing the song. The only time you see real "flesh" is really late at night.

And even here, male arrogance rides high. Due to the floor manager's persistent attempts, I finally accepted a host to my table. Possibly, his impressive equipment had something to do with the decision, too. But a few exchanges later, I realized I had made a mistake. Because aside from his whang, this guy had nothing else going for him. He was so proud of his pecker that he didn't think anything else was necessary.

When asked what was his "specialty", he thought it over a minute and said, "Dunno, I usually just lie back and let the customer do the work."

I winced. "So, nothing else? No particular talent, up or down?" He told me he sometimes topped, but never bottomed. I could imagine some poor queen needing stitches.

Like most men, he didn't understand modern gay men. When I asked if he had ever bottomed, he said no, I'm not gay. Like, hello? Talk about an undeveloped service industry.

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I mean, as I mentioned in a previous column, most of the guys in the gay bars are straight anyway. It's part of their allure. But not the only part. This guy even proudly told me about his wife and 2 kids as if they were badges of masculinity. At least in the Bangkok, the guys bother to keep in shape, and accept the fact that they have to perform some "tricks". One can appreciate the beauty of a freely competitive industry.

To add insult to irritation, before I agreed to let him join my table, he was all attention, flipping his thing in my general direction, touchy-feely, etc. But once he had a drink besides me, he turned into a slightly bored automaton. First and last drink, I thought to myself.

In Manila, it's common for the boys to approach any patron and, without a by-your-leave, proceed to plant themselves on you and begin a pseudo-lap dance. All the while, asking for some money to "hang" on their tools. Some bars have a set hour for this, some just let the boys do it anytime to augment their income. And the hapless patron is left with the choice of either giving him some bills, or repeatedly insisting on disinterest. For those of our sisters who aren't very assertive, you can imagine how easily they're taken advantage of.

The shows are also found wanting. You almost never see actual penetration on stage, and even then it's more often than not some semi-ugly man and a drag queen.
In Bangkok, I remembered some bars pandering to the audience by doing more butch-to-butch guy acts, everything included. Here, the most I'd seen recently had two guys pretending to have sex on stage, all the while covering their crotches. And that was the bar's "Big Event" for the night. I don't expect ISO 9000 quality, but at least give me SOME bang for my buck.

Unfortunately, local gay men don't really have a lot of options. Until the industry becomes as developed as those in more enlightened (I use the term loosely) countries, we'll just have to settle for second-rate. Course, not all bars are like this. But again, those are expensive exceptions. And given that boys here tend to cost more than those in Bangkok, it's no wonder they're rarely taken out for the night. Of course there are a few good ones, hustlers who truly understand the business, and not just the performance part. They know how to create the illusion clients look for, they know what it is they need to do, and ultimately, they stay on top of the field. For the rest, they're going to be relegated to dancing in anonymous little joints till they learn.

Adapt or die, the law we all live by. Even more so in the seamier underside where some of us visit, some of us dwell, and ultimately, some of us drown in.