“Your face was serious and scary as hell!” I walk over to the fridge and pour a glass of water to drink, washing down the sting I feel in my throat after choking.
“I was just kidding, you cray cray. I know you already have P'Por.”
Nadia gives me a dramatic eye roll as if there were a second camera filming him from the left.
“Oh, did you eat anything already?”
Alright, that’s my chance to change the subject. I don’t want Nadia to focus on Mork and me, because, like I said, there is really nothing between us.
“I did. I was gonna ask if you wanna get some coffee with me before the shop closes.”
“Yep, sure. Let me eat real quick.” And I hurriedly finish my hearty rice.
Do you know what’s the perks of being a doctor? We can fall asleep as soon as our heads reach a pillow, as we know even a two-minute sleep is precious. And we can eat fast. We stuff our mouths with food and chew a few times before swallowing down.
Such is the life of a doctor.
…………
“Hello, Dr. Tawan, Dr. Nadia. You’re on duty tonight?”
The same barista guy smiles and greets us when we enter. Earlier, we passed many other doctors who are also on duty, each of them with a cup of coffee in their hand. Coffee shops in hospitals are most busy early in the morning and late at night. Whoever thinks a coffee shop probably has no traffic after 8-9 p.m. should visit a hospital and observe the business.
“Iced Americano and extra sweet iced latte, please, as usual.”
I place my order and hand him the payment, paying for Nadia as well. We usually come here for a coffee together and order the same thing every time, so when we pay, we pay together in one bill and take turns paying. Last time Nadia paid and this time it is my turn to pay.
When I look at Nadia again, he’s frowning while typing something on his phone, probably replying to a chat. He then shakes his head, turns it off, and puts it away before taking a seat at a table to wait for the coffee. I rush after him.
“What’s up? You got called in?”
Nadia shakes his head. Actually, I kind of guessed it’s not about work, because they usually either announce through the speakers or just call directly by phone. If it’s a cellphone message, it must be something else.
“Then, what is it? Such a big scowl on your face. Wanna talk about it?”
“The guy I went on a date with.” Nadia says and pauses, pursing his lips into a straight line as if pondering where to start. And I am completely puzzled.
“Wait, what? You went on a date? What? When? How? The other day you were still heartbroken over P'Ganghan.”
“Daww, it’s already been over a week, no? Who would stay heartbroken for that long? I have a life to live. Life must go on, haven’t you heard this? It’s normal to have a new date already.”
“Uh, and why were you frowning? He’s not good-looking? Was his pic deceptive?”
There is a reason for me to ask that. Before, Nadia used to whine a lot about dating a guy from Facebook and receiving deceptive packaging too often. Meaning they didn’t look as good as their profile pictures.
“Nay. He’s like in the pics, perhaps even better. But he said I’m too ladylike and not his type.”
“Uh-huh… So, what? Do you even care?”
I ask because I know Nadia well. He’s been like this since he was still going by his old name, Not. He used to make a joke that if there’s ever anyone who can be more ladylike than a real woman, it must be him. I’ve never seen him feeling troubled over the matter. But why does he suddenly feel bad about it now?
“Of course, I care. Because I like this guy.” That’s Nadia’s answer.
“Right, but he doesn’t like you for who you are.”
“He said he likes me. Said I look good and have a nice build, which is just his type. I have a good profile, and he’s been wanting to have a doctor boyfriend for so long, especially a pediatrician. But he doesn’t want me to be ladylike. He wants a manly boyfriend, who can walk with him along the road and be seen as a friend, not lover.”
“Then, why does he even want a boyfriend?” I don’t get it.
“That’s what I asked him.” Nadia replies. “And he said…”
Nadia stops talking and shows his phone screen to me. It is a Facebook messenger chat message from him. I try to avoid looking at the pic and just read the text, but I can’t help noticing that he wears white shirt with black epaulets. It looks like he is wearing a pilot’s uniform.
“Being lovers is a private matter between two persons.
We don’t need to broadcast it to the world.
I care about how society views me.
If we’re together, it will have to stay like this.”
Then, there’s a reply from nadia, which is just “......”
“I think we aren’t the right answer for each other.
Sometimes just liking is not enough for a relationship.
I don’t think I can be the kind of boyfriend you hope for.
And you can’t be the kind of boyfriend I want, either.”
“What does that mean? We’re not dating anymore?”
“We can meet. I think we can be friends.
Can we see each other as friends?”
“Just because I’m ladylike?”
“For you it might be ‘just’ ladylike.
But for me, it’s not ‘just.’
I’m sorry.”
“Nevermind. It’s my fault for being ladylike.”
I give the phone back to Nadia when I get to this part. There are more messages below but this is enough for me to grasp the key point of why my best friend has such a dejected look on his face.
“And you can’t get mad at him?” I ask.
Nadia nods. “Uh-huh. I’m rather mad at myself.”
“Mad at yourself for…?”
“For being ladylike! Why’d you have to ask? Just think about it, if I weren’t ladylike, I wouldn’t be here sitting with you. I would’ve been on a date with him. The day after tomorrow he has a flight, and tonight he’s free. We would’ve been laying together watching a movie or out driving for nighttime sight-seeing.”
Nadia takes a big, deep sigh before going on. “But because I’m ladylike. I’m a bottom gay guy, tall and bulky, scary-faced, but also ladylike. So I have to be on duty now. I missed the opportunity because I’m ladylike. I’m starting to think it’s not ‘just ladylike,’ it must be more than that, as he said.”
Nadia shrugs. And he must be sensing that I don’t want to see his dejected face, because he forces a smile. Little does he know, though, that his fake smile is even more unbearable to me than his sad face from before.
“Why don’t you say ‘just one guy like him’ instead?”
We whip our heads in that direction. It seems like the barista has noticed that we talked so intently we forgot our drinks. He has come over to serve the coffee at our table and must have overheard our conversation.
“How? What’s this ‘just one guy like him’ thingie?”
Nadia accepts his coffee and draws a swig through the straw. Mr. Mayon pulls up a chair and sits down next to our table. There’s no other customer in the shop now. We seem to be the last of his customers tonight, so he has spare time for a talk.
“It’s just one guy like him who dislikes the ladylike Dr. Nadia.”
The barista replies.
And either because he sees we are listening intently, or he realizes he wasn’t clear, he elaborates further. “Doctor, you can’t change yourself to someone else or cut a part of yourself out and throw it away because of one person’s comment. What if he says he doesn’t like your prominent but hooked nose, would you get rid of your nose?”
“Nayyy.” Nadia instantly answers. “Heyyy, wait! I have a hooked nose?” He hurriedly touches and feels around his own nose.
“That’s not it! Just an example. Baww, doctor.” Mr. Barista pulls Nadia’s hand away from his nose.
&nb
sp; “What I want to say is, being ladylike is a part of you, right, doc? And why do you have to cut a part of you away just by one guy’s opinion? Do you remember when I talked to you about your extra sweet latte?”
“Yeah, you said my sweet tooth is gonna put me at risk of diabetes.” Nadia replies.
The barista nods. “Yes, doc, and do you remember how you replied?”
“I said I like it this way. Sweet coffee makes me happy. If I die of diabetes, I’ll still die happy.”
Let me complain a bit here. He shouldn’t have said that, in my opinion. Jeez, Nadia, you’re a doctor! But whatever, I will let it slide, just this once. I will have to correct his attitude later.
“That’s right, doc. Extra sweet coffee is a part of you. You didn’t give it up. And why do you have to give up your ladylike part? I think it’s ridiculous.”
“But people said for gays, if you’re ladylike, you’re in the low-end market.” Nadia muses loudly.
“Low-end market is still a market. People still buy from it. High-end or low-end, it’s all in the eye of the beholder. I dunno, but I think high-end or low-end markets don’t exist. It’s an illusion. The key is whether you’re in the right place at the right time for the sale.”
Mr. Barista gestures his head at our iced coffee.
“Do you think if I set up a coffee shop in some village, will any customer come to buy coffee around eight or nine at night? Maybe I can sell some. A few orders, ten at most. It’ll be impossible to sell almost a hundred cups of coffee in just one hour from eight to nine, like this. But it’s because I’m in a hospital. The location gives me a target group consisting of doctors like you, who need a coffee late at night before getting on duty. It’s why I sell well.”
I look down at the half-drunk cup of coffee in my hand...
Uh-huh. What Mr. Barista said is so true.
“If you think you’re a merchandise, um...personally I don’t want you to think like that, but if you do, the reason why no one has bought you is only because they haven’t arrived at your shop front yet. Or maybe you’re simply in the wrong shop. Don’t think that you’re not worth buying. Blaming yourself is a waste of time. You better blame someone else. Gahahaha!”
“Or blame the place’s guardian spirits.” Then, Nadia chimes in with a laugh. Although the disappointment still shows on his face, his smile appears to start reclaiming its territory.
This is a mechanism of emotions, I guess. When we’re full of sadness and disappointment, we express the emotions and drain them out. Only then, there will be a free space for laughter and smile to move in.
“But I...don’t mind a ladylike person, doc.”
Mr. Barista makes a move on Nadia without letting him take a stance first. If this were sports, we might say he’s using an offensive strategy all of a sudden. Like, boom, in the face. Whose face, you ask? My face. Or maybe I should say over my head, because hello, I’m sitting right here, guys.
“I think a ladylike Dr. Nadia is adorable. You’re such a character.”
“Hey...did you just make a pass at me?” Nadia asks wittingly, but I see a glint of a smile on the corners of his lips.
“That’s not in my field, I don’t know how to. I only make coffee, doc.” He replies.
“Oh, but I do hope you can make up your mind.” Nadia retorts.
“Doctor...tomorrow are you free after duty?”
Mr. Barista asks, in a more enticing tone this time.
“It depends on what you’re going to ask next.”
“Tomorrow I have to restock my coffee beans, would you go coffee bean shopping with me?”
At that…I, the protagonist's friend, carefully pick up my Americano cup and slink towards the exit door before quietly opening it and leaving. I look back and see them still talking, oblivious of their missing audience. It will take a while before Nadia realizes it, I guess.
I read from somewhere that in every ending, we can find a chance.
Doesn’t matter if we lose or win in that ending, or even though we’re confused whether we lose or win, if we are still alive when one thing ends, what immediately follows is a chance. It is a chance to begin anew.
If not because Nadia found his ending with Mr. Pilot (I guess, I haven’t asked him yet, might ask later) he wouldn’t have a spare chance for Mr. Barista. If not because he complained about this ending in the coffee shop before it closes for the night, there wouldn’t be a chance for them to sit down and talk like that.
Right, that’s being in the right place at the right time, just like the barista said.
Ding … I hear a message notification sound.
Picking it up, I expect it to be Nadia flipping at me for sneaking away from the coffee shop without telling him.
But nope… Surprise! It’s a message from my P'Por.
“I know you must be busy during duty hours, but try to get some sleep, too. It’s OK if you don’t have time for me, but I want you to have time for your own rest. You know, I’m worried about you.” Finishing that, he sends me a sticker of Brown Bear blowing a kiss.
My heart puffs up at that encouragement. This is my “right place at the right time” person. Tomorrow is Loy Krathong Day. After the duty and a ward rounding, I’ll be free. I can go back to sleep at the condo with my darling and we can go to a Loy Krathong festival in the evening. It will be our first Loy Krathong since we’ve been going steady.
“Doctor Tawanork at 3550.
Doctor Tawanork at 3550.”
Oh crap… 3550 is the emergency room.
There must be an emergency consultation.
I put the phone in my pocket and run like hell to the Emergency Department. Fine. Let tonight be as draining as it must.
Then, tomorrow I’ll have all the time in the world to spend with my beloved P'Por. :)
…………
“I’m so sorry, Tawan. I didn’t know you were going to be free.”
Okay… This morning hasn’t turned out the way I had hoped…
Last night the duty was draining, but not so brutal. I got some sleep from 4 to 6 a.m. That’s already as lucky as I could ever get. I woke up to check the cases from last night, round the ward, summarize the case reports, take shower, and change my clothes before heading back to the condo, only to find him packing to leave for a home visit…
“Nope, it’s my fault for not reminding you that I’m free.”
Seeing his expression, I can’t get mad at him despite being quite upset. I told him I was going to be free on Loy Krathong and that I wanted to spend time together. Granted, I didn’t remind him after, but come on… Does this kind of thing need a second confirmation?
“Anyway, can’t you leave in the evening instead?”
I ask without getting my hopes up. I can guess the answer.
He shakes his head, just as I expected.
“Unfortunately, no. I told my parents I’ll go home late this morning and we’ll go to Ayutthaya. They want to go to the Loy Krathong festival at Wat Yai Chai Mongkhon Temple, so I’m driving for them. Oh, Tawan, aren’t you going home? You’re free today.”
“P'Saengtai isn’t here, and my parents went out of town to visit Daonuea. No one is home.”
“What about going to Loy Krathong with Nadia, then?” He tries to suggest another option.
I shake my head. “Today he has a date. It’s alright, darling. You should go home.” In my mind, I ask if he’d let me tag along, because I want to get to know his family, too. But...it’s likely impossible. I guess his family doesn’t know that he has a boyfriend.
“By the way…” I rack my brain to find the next sentence. “Will you pass Paragon mall on your way? Can I hitch a ride to the mall? I want to go to a bookstore before going back to the dorm.”
“Sure thing. That’s easy. I’ll look around the mall with you for a bit before leaving.”
He pats me on the head. Maybe he knows that’s my weak spot. And although I know this doesn’t change the situation, this can at least make me fe
el a little better.
Fine. I might not get to spend Loy Krathong with him this year, but there’s still next year. We are going to be together for a long time anyway. I try to console myself with that thought.
…………
At the bookstore.
“Tawan, what book are you buying? Do you have a book in mind?”
“Not yet. I plan to look around and see if I’m interested in any of the new releases.”
“My dear, will you have the time to read it? You’re always reading textbooks whenever you’re free.” He laughs.
I turn to look at him. “Boo! Sometimes happiness can come from just buying the books, darling.”
Of course, I’m free. I silently reply. I have all the time in the world today because he’s not with me. I can’t stay in his room because I don’t have the key card and the key. And even if I do, there’s no point in staying at the condo, for he’s not there. I better spend my free time reading some interesting books.
My Ride, I Love You Page 17