Lights

Red light. West-bound Buendia-SLEX intersection, 7:20pm.

"SLEX. It sounds like a sci-fi suspense porno thriller no, Gin?"

TG always had a knack for squeezing something quasi-intuitive out of the most commonplace things while driving in traffic. Gino loved this about him, but later on learned to tune out the more nonsensical blurts. Like how Greenbelt is neither green nor belt-like or the one time they argued where exactly Buendia ends and where Gil Puyat starts.

TG rolled his window down and fumbled for the car lighter as their car rolled to a stop at the tail end of Buendia traffic. As if through an unspoken signal, Gino rolled his window down too. TG lit his cigarette.

"T, why don't you quit?"

"Because its healthy. Why? You want me to?"

"Healthy?" Gino laughed. "This I gotta hear."

"Ok. Simple: I'm increasing my red blood cell count. Remember what Doc Patalinhug said about RBC and altitude?" TG drew from his cigarette.

"Thinner air, higher RBC...same principle. When I smoke, I deprive myself of a little air, my RBC goes up and I can go on respiring more efficiently afterwards. Pwede pang-thesis no?"

"That's retarded." said Gin, with much effort to hide the annoying fact that the RBC thing sounded surprisingly cohesive to his trained ear. Pfft. You just had to fall for a blockmate. "As if Manila air isn't 'air deprived' enough. You should try quitting."

"It never bothered you before."

True. In fact, Gino always thought it added nicely to TG's barako sex appeal.

"Wala lang. I figure its never too late to be concerned for your boyfriend's health," Gino remarked.

"And FYI, 'retarded' is not politically-correct especially when used to scorn. Take it from the Black Eyed Peas," TG added, not minding Gino's last words, as if his listening faculties had shut down to concentrate more effort on formulating that last thought.

"Ass, just drive." Green light.

"Bitch," said TG, reaching for his partner's welcoming hand.

Gino could see the roofs of cars, cabs, trucks and jeepneys ahead bobbing and rocking as if disturbed by a slow, jagged wave rolling underneath them as they inched their way across the rail tracks that ran through the side of the interesection. As they finally moved, the light turned orange, then red--they stopped a few cars short of the tracks.

Maybe he was distracted by the sensation of TG's hand rubbing on his thigh, but Gino, glancing at the side mirror, thought nothing of the yosi vendor wearing a flu mask briskly approaching them from behind. Before he knew it, he felt something sharp pressing down on his collar bone. On the corner of his eye he saw TG quickly turn to him, dropping his cigarette on the carpet with a sudden jerk as a knife was held to his neck. "Sel-pown at walet niyo! Dali!"


Red light.


Green light.

Magallenes. Bicutan. Sucat. Alabang.

Gino lightly rubbed his hand on his sore collar bone. "I hope that blade wasn't too rusty. I think it left a mark."

"Sorry, Gin." TG's voice was shaky.

"It's okay. We're not hurt afterall." Gino took TG's cold hand.

"Putang ina! If the windows weren't down...I'm seriously quitting now!"

Gino could only laugh.

"Crime is healthy."

"Yeah, pwede."