Moz and I notice that especially on Saturday nights, that’s when the Creepy Old Men come out… What’s worse is the fact that they’re Creepy Old Foreign Men, i.e. people like me who are traveling to Manila for either vacation or business. These men… are old. Sometimes, older-than-my-dad old. Given, my dad is pretty young, but still that’s just gross. I know I look young for my age so the fact that they are hitting on me is just even weirder.
After checking out the clubs in Manila for two weekends now, I am just positively sick of one pick-up line. Not only does it lack creativity, I feel like I’m being plastered on with a cheapened label.
Are you Filipino?
So what if I am? Just because I say yes, they’re immediately inclined to ask me for my number. Naturally, before my name.
Just because I’m Filipino, doesn’t mean:
- I’m going to like you immediately just because you’re foreign. Even if I’m inclined to like non-Asians. (Though most of the Creepy Old Men have been Middle Eastern or Indian, no offense).
- I’m going to like you because you’re possibly rich.
- I’m going to give you my phone number.
Moz and I didn’t have a spectacular night as we both had planned. Our feet are still numb, swollen, and very sore from last night’s partying (which was a complete success, well almost). We headed out to Republiq which apparently is the current place to be. Total fail. It was full of said Creepy Old Men and just older people in general. Kids our age were sparse. The layout of the club was really weird as well. There were tables everywhere. We couldn’t even find a place to just dance. We ended up leaving early since we didn’t enjoy the house music either. Overall, it just wasn’t our scene. I was looking forward to this Saturday night for a while so I was really bummed that it didn’t work out.
We were on the way to the line for a cab when a Creepy Old Guy (ok, he was probably on the younger side of Creepy Old Guy, but he had that creepy desperate look about him that I didn’t like) attempted to chat him up. Okay, to be fair, he opened up with a remark about the fact that there was a line for the cab. But then of course, he just had to say, “Are you Filipino?”
I exchanged a look with Moz. Enough was enough. I don’t even remember who said it at this point but we were both thinking the same thing. We replied, “No, we’re American.” And walked away.