By Rachel Arandilla
IT WAS already three in the morning and my friend Apollo and I were already feeling tired after a hazy night out.We decided to recover in a small hole-in-the-wall in Poblacion; with the idea of drenching the night’s alcohol consumption with high-cholesterol chicken skin.
Upon sitting down, I quickly noticed the man beside our table. He was drinking alone, with a total IDGAF attitude. He seemed familiar.
My friend Apollo turned his head towards the man, and turned back to me poker faced, with all the poise he can muster. He nodded and muttered in confirmation.
It’s not every day when you find yourself sat beside a famous local celebrity, so we grabbed the opportunity and said hi. I could not exactly remember how we started talking, but soon he was buying us beers and engaged in discourse on storytelling.We shared the love for stories, albeit found home in different mediums: me in words and letters, and the actor, in moving pictures.Jake shares that he does not learn by studying theory or watching movies, but rather he needed to be out there to gather real experiences, meet real people and hear real stories – probably why we found him in a humble hole-in-the-wall in Poblacion, Makati.
“So, how did you two meet?” the question was posed towards me and Apollo. Apollo and I looked at each other and smirked, like we were sharing some inside joke. “So, Funny story…”My first memories of meeting Apollo was when he was about to be kicked out by bouncers in a dance club in Boracay during my bachelorette party (P.S., the bachelorette party happened, but the wedding didn’t). While I couldn’t remember whether they really did kick him out of the club or not – we became the best of friends bonded by this odd event in this obscure, earlier chapter of our lives.
I seem to meet my closest friends in equally unconventional ways. It was rarely the usual “oh-we-went-to-school/work/church-together” narrative, rather there’s always a crazy backstory attached to my favorite people: a random hitchhiker who jumped in your car on Sinulog; a bored surfer waiting for some wave action in the middle of the sea; a lost soul looking for a companion to see a fortune teller; an Indian girl asking a Filipino girl to help her figure out how to tie her saree; a classmate you sneak into the Wharton comp lab with to watch rap battle videos together; a hostel roommate who forgot to bring his shampoo (and soap. and lotion. and sunscreen, toothpaste and conditioner)…
Funny how they all have different backgrounds but they all had one thing in common: bright eyes that spoke, “Yas girl, we’re the same brand of crazy!”
They say great stories happen to those who can tell them, but I think great stories happen to everyone. What sets a storyteller apart is their artful introspection, seeing things in a more colorful light, masterfully transforming past events into colorful anecdotes.Half an hour later, one of Jake’s friends arrived and we were introduced. After sitting down and grabbing his beer, he asked me how we all knew Jake. I smirked and responded: “So, Funny story…”