Dakilang Fan

Take off
your clothes.
Go on, strip!
Let me see your
body, and let
me feel it, too.
Let me touch
your beautiful contours,
then let me breathe
on you.
You always do this,
I know, nudity becomes you.
But don't ask
me to strip, too.

I never said nudity is always me.

Title: Nudity Is Always Art
Date: c. 1990-91

The picture on the left is of Reymond Sajor, a contestant in the firt Philippine Idol reality show. He didn't make it although he was one of the first contestants that Mr. C and the rest of the judges felt was a great singer. 

I saw him once, a week after the grand finals where Mau Marcelo eventually won. He was walking at the Araneta Center with Arms Cruz. I stood up from where I was, grabbed a paper place mat, grabbed a colleague's pen and left them in the cafe where we were dining al fresco. I ran after Reymond and asked for his autograph! Simply because he was in Philippine Idol and that my partner thought he's cute.

He is!!! And very friendly and accommodating. He signed the paper, and asked for my name. I gave my partner's name. It was to be a gift for him. So, if ever he remembers that incident, he'll have to call me by my partner's name. Anyway, he invited me to his gig. I apologized and told him that would be impossible as I work graveyard shifts as a call center agent. He understood and that was the end of it.

Or so I thought! Last Saturday, as I boarded JAC Liner at Kamias going to Sto. Tomas, Batangas (although the JAC Liner Bus is headed to Lucena - which makes a stop at Sto. Tomas), I saw him there as one of the passengers on the same bus I was on. He had make-up on, smearing in fact the collar of his cream jacket. He is absolutely cute!!! Nobody in the bus actually realized we were in the midst of an idol!

He is still looking cute. He was eating Mr. Chips, I think. And was just sitting there, and taking a nap from time to time. Now, do I approach him and introduce myself as, well, using the name of my partner? Or do I start all over again?

The problem was, I was seated 5 seats behind him. Next to him is big guy who I believe would make a scene if I ever so stand or sit on his arm rest to have a chat with Reymond. So I searched my travel bag and looked for a piece of paper so I could once again ask for his autograph, this time giving my real name.

But I couldn't muster the courage to do so. In fact, the only piece of paper I had was a bookmark that my partner gave as a gift to me. And here was what I planned. I will scribble this note:

"I didn't want to intrude on you privacy so I'm doing exactly the opposite - I'm giving you my "autograph." Could you please, please, please, text this number 0917.320.4xxx for your next gig and I promise I will be there. I will pay for my tickets, of course.

(Signed) Your pre-stalking-phase fan,

Yannick"

I planned to drop this to him before my stop. And here was my rehearsed lines (tell me what could have worked):

"Hi, Reymond. I didn't want to disturb you so I've written all I needed to say on this paper. Please read it carefully. Thanks!" Then as I leave I make that sign on my fingers to "call me!'

Another would have been, "Hi Reymond. I don't know if you remember me from the last time I asked for your autograph. I have this uncanny ability to show up on your most uncomfortable situation. Here, please read this. Thanks!"

That whole trip, I was so sleepy coming as it is from my shift. Normally, I would have slept the whole trip. In the end, nothing happened. As we reached my stop, ready with the bookmark, and as I passed his seat, I saw him there, asleep….

absolutely cute.. but asleep… all the rehearsal came for naught…

My heart was broken… as is the bookmark.. shredded into pieces.. scattered somewhere in Sto. Tomas, Batangas!