And trouble’s gonna follow where I go.

I licked my lips as I checked out my date for the thirteenth time. I had high hopes for tonight. Jamil was definitely trophy boyfriend material. I’d been checking this hottie out for a while. He’s one of the guys who belonged to the private Facebook group chat for Rupaul’s Drag Race fans in the country that I had been a part of since late last year.

If Jamil looked good on his Facebook and Instagram feeds, he looked downright delicious sitting across from me in this fancy restaurant. Gosh, I was just so sick of hookups and the whole dating scene. Maybe this date would be the one. Like seriously. Is it too much to ask to just want to find the perfect boyfriend that I could settle down with? We could even adopt twins! A boy and a girl!

I was zoning out, picturing our first Halloween together as Elio and Oliver from “Call Me By Your Name,” when I realized the waitress was not-so-patiently waiting for Jamil’s drink order. He gave the snotty lady the quick elevator treatment with bored eyes and a snarky tone. “Sorry, miss. Naiinip ka na ba? Bored ka na ata e. Balik ka na lang when you’re more happy to take our order.” I cleared my throat. “Miss, he’s just kidding. Just bring us two glasses of your house sangria. Thank you so much.” The waitress—Beck, per her name tag—rolled her eyes as she left our table. Meow, girl. Okay. We kinda deserved that after the snarky remarks from my date.

Fck. I had such high hopes for this evening and Jamil had already ticked Red Flag #7. I didn’t say a word, just made a mental tally mark in the con column. Jamil’s a month younger than me yet he had that total hot Daddy vibe that checked every box for me. Age is another item on my Red Flag list, which could be negotiable. And yet he’d totally checked off Red Flag number seven, so that was technically two strikes. I recited it silently while I reached for a bread roll and began to butter it. “Red Flag number seven: No depth/substance, which includes but not limited to low IQ, arrogance, and lack of Good Manners and Right Conduct.”

Yes. His being snotty and sarcastic to our food server was a complete infraction of GMRC. However, I was nothing if not fair. Any potential boyfriend would get three strikes before they’re out. That meant Jamil had one more chance to wow me, or not wow me, as the case may be. Beck showed up with two frosty glasses of sangria, garnished with a pretty sliced orange floating on top. I took a sip and set the glass aside as I took another look at my menu.

My mouth fell open when Jamil reached over and took my menu. He closed it and handed both menus to our waitress. “We’ll order later. Thanks.”

Rude. I was going to throw a fit at him but he flashed a full smile and I’d lost my train of thought for how white and perfect his teeth were.

“I like you, Justin. Sobra. I hope you’re not one of those guys na against sa open relationship because that’s what I’m up for.”

I jerked back to reality when I realized he was talking. Did he just say he really likes me? Oh my gosh! But when the words “open relationship” finally registered in my head, I gasped. “Seryoso ka?!”

He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me. “Yes. Being gay means we can break the norms and create our own rules! That’s what I’m hoping to have with you.”

Oh, hell no.

“Jam, you seem like a great and I really appreciate your honesty. But I refuse to be in an open relationship. Galing na ako sa ganung set up. I’m not completely against it because I know it works for some people, but it doesn’t work for me. I’m sorry.” I felt defeated. I waved at one of the waiters motioning for the check.

“What are you doing? Aalis ka na?” Jamil asked. He was taken aback by my reaction.

“Yes.” I replied.
“Come on, don’t. We can still have a great time.”

He was pretty to look at but I couldn’t get past the fact that I was with another wrong guy.

“Red Flag number twelve: Doesn’t believe in or want monogamy. Sadly, we aren’t ever going to get there. I’m afraid that you received three red flags strikes tonight. Ergo, we can only be friends.”

He stared at me blankly. “I’m sorry, Justin. Can you maybe back up a little bit and explain what you just said? Red Flags? Strikes? I’m completely lost here.”

“It’s simple. I have a list of red flags that I’ve put together that say what my ideal boyfriend shouldn’t be. When I date someone, he’s only allowed two strikes—or infractions, if you will—on our first date or before we determine the relationship. If it gets to third, that’s the end of it.”

Jamil seemed stunned for a moment before he threw his head back and started hooting with laughter. I watched indignantly as he laughed his ass off. So annoying. After taking a moment to wipe his eyes, he shook his head. “Okay. I apologize, Justin. You’re going to have to run that by me one more time. Exactly how many red flags are on this list, and which ones did I check off?”

When I began to explain, he laughed a little more, shaking his head again. “Okay, sure. I see where being snarky at our waitress might be seen as a dick move and my age might be the reason I view relationships differently. But I’m not going to argue with you, because if you’ve been sitting there silently judging me and holding me up to a list of red flags that I was completely unaware of this whole time, things weren’t ever going to work out anyway. A word of advice? Maybe let your future dates know about this list and the whole three-strike rule.”

“Point taken. I’ll take note of that.”

As we waited for the bill, he was still laughing. I had two thoughts as I watched him try to hold his laughter. First, I was glad we didn’t get to order food yet, otherwise I would not have enjoyed it. And second, I’d totally made the right choice when I’d stuck with my three-strike rule. Jamil would never have been a good match for me.

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One second it was perfect, now you’re halfway out the door.

Before your visit, we had agreed on spending time together: playing house, staying in, watching shows on Netflix etc. I was very excited and you were looking forward to it as well—then it went south.

Meeting you for the first time was all I had hoped for. I loved your facial hair and your being hairy all over. You looked exactly like your pictures which made me very happy. I liked how you talk in your native Davao-Tagalog tongue, how you casually insert “gud” and “gid” in your sentences. I loved how you kissed me, how gentle you were, and passionate and electric it felt at the same time. I liked the way you embraced me too tight but I didn’t feel uncomfortable or crushed in your arms.

I loved that on our first day, I felt the desire you had for me prior to our meeting, even your Tinder notifications were blowing up and you were checking new matches; even when I only got from you were snide remarks like you didn’t fancy the perfume and polo I had on because it’s like I got them from an old person’s closet, that kissing me was like kissing an infant because of my small lips, that my body is like a twig I could break. You also jokingly-slash-sarcastically asked, “are you just pretending to eat two legs [animals]?” which I took offense because you knew that for the longest time and you didn’t make a comment until we met.

That time I began to sense the feeling was not mutual. It was as if you entertained me out of curiosity and respect only since I was already there with you and you had no choice but to play along. Perhaps you didn’t want to be rude to me. I sensed that because we never had a decent conversation. Apart from questions like “what do you want to eat” and “how far is this,” I got nothing else from you. But maybe I should have put more effort to create a conversation even you already came off as guarded.

Later that night you shared that you have reservations sleeping with another person so you’re just going to call me to come over the next day. That surprised me. Although I can understand your reason, it struck me as odd because it only came up when you got here all the while we had previously talked about sleeping in and staying in together, even discussed the pillow and covers situation when we were talking about this trip. This made me realize it was your way of letting me down.

Second day came, you called me up to come over. And I wish I didn’t because you only made me feel I was not welcome anymore. We barely spoke while I was there and you were on the couch watching on your laptop, at the same time constantly checking on your messages. It was as if I wasn’t there. It was very awkward. Good thing I had to leave for work.

We exchanged messages throughout that evening. I opened up about how I felt and told you to let me know if you don’t want me around because I can respect that. But you assured me that you do like having me around, your plans here include me and that you would not go anywhere without me. I believed you. I thought it was sweet, although big part of me knew you only said that because it was what I wanted to hear at the time.

You were supposed to give me call me today because you and I agreed to go to the mall, and then you’re going to meet someone after. So I woke up at 12PM and waited for your call. Hours passed and the phone never rang. I knew in my gut then that something was up. At 6PM I sent you a message and that’s when you told me you’re at the mall with the person you were supposed to meet after me, and you didn’t call because you wanted to hit two birds with one stone and you thought to let me rest more.

I wish you had informed me that your plans for the day had changed. A text message would have sufficed. But I guess you didn’t think of that because I was not important to you anyway. At least not anymore. Now I’m just someone you were going to see when it’s convenient and I was the person who ditched you on two occasions several years back so I deserved to be treated this way now.

I should’ve known better not to hope for the best with you. I should have not imagined romantic days ahead. I should have known to look before you fall.

I wish you can tell me what happened though. Why did it turn sour so suddenly? Did I scare you off? Was there something I did that turned you off? Please tell me.

Because I fell for you when you made me feel like I’m the only one. Well, I think I was until we met and you realized I was not the person you wanted to spend the rest of your visit in Manila with, and found someone else. Maybe not even someone else better. Just someone else. Because that’s what usually happens—people always find someone else.