It’s 1:18 pm on a dull Tuesday afternoon. In a Boracay picture, most of my friends are just beginning to wake up from a late night of partying and booze. They would orient themselves with the time and the vast and calming nature surrounding them. Most of the times, they would find hot meals waiting for them in the counter and balcony courtesy of a soul who has more effort to wake up early and explore food than liquor. I would be sitting in front of the television, watching old movies and cartoons, waiting for everyone else to get up.
After lunch, people would go back to their beds. Some would sleep again, some would play cards while others would watch television. Since I brought a book, you would find me reading. Come 4 pm, we would all have this strange urge to eat again despite the lack of physical activities. One would initiate the move and suggest the ladies to change to their swimsuits. While the ladies get ready, the guys fool around and dress up in two minutes. Once the ladies emerge, the couples would pair up and the ladies would have to insist on the foolhardy males to apply sunblock. Gaining leverage, we would walk under the 4 pm heat of White Beach witnessing people beginning to crowd the shores and hang out with friends and family. We would chill at Station 1, a spot where we feel more familiar with, order drinks and food during happy hour. This is where we bond, chill and wait for the sunset. Since we have photographers in tow, expect camera whoring and photo ops, which would turn out to be funny, original and artistic. While the sun falls down and everyone else gets a taste of exercise and liquor, we would be thinking again where to have dinner. Discussions would arise, supposedly the only mental and diplomatic exercise we have to go through. No tedious and professional data being discussed, no operational issues to study. Basic problems would only boil down to food, time, activities and untangling strong egos clashing. Once everybody’s appeased with the selection, we march to the restaurant.
After dinner, others would hang out and meet up with other friends while majority goes back to the hotel room. While others take a bath, others phone for massage service. By 9 pm, half of my friends would be sleeping to store up energy while the other half would opt to stay awake and find amusing things to do. By 11 pm, phones would be ringing off the hook and text messages allow meeting places to be divulged. Ladies and Gents would get ready with their summer party look. By 11:30, we would march to the hip socunds of the shore like a piper beckoning the thirsty souls for liquor. We expect people to get drunk and stay till the morning. We’re lucky if we don’t witness fights. Depends on the need, at around 4 am some people would have their after party snacks at Jonah’s, while others go straight back to the hotel. Sleep will snatch them until lunch time. Then at lunch, the same cycle continues.
It is 1:18 pm, but I’m not in Boracay anymore. I just flew in yesterday afternoon and I’m suffering from vacation withdrawal. It’s hard and I’m not strong enough to bounce back to my version of reality anytime soon. I have already conquered the heavy traffic. I hope I could gracefully go back to conquer work tomorrow.
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