I've had lots of movie dates ever since I graduated from college and entered myself into the market. It's a safe thing to do when you're with a new guy. To pass the time if the date's not doing well. To fondle each other if the date's doing extremely well. And it's funny how some guys act differently when the lights go out. I remember my first date with this guy who works in the Palace. He looked so neat with his white long sleeves and crisp black pants. But he tried to slip his hand up my pants only a few minutes into the movie and almost forced me to kiss him then and there. He was really cute and I would have loved to ply my tongue on his but there were just too many people around. In the end we did kiss although I couldn't get comfy because you know, there are strangers two feet away from us. In all directions. We never dated again. But not because of that.
And there's this other guy who gave me a hand job while I struggled to shield my thing from prying eyes with my bag on my lap. It was good that the movie we were watching was an action movie, so any gasps and moans which might have escaped my lips can be interpreted as my surprised reactions on the film. It was still very risky though and as much as I would have wanted to spread my legs, fear and decency overcame me. Any minute I imagined security guards descending on us, flashlights quickly swerving on my exposed dick for everyone to see before it was unceremoniously kicked out of the doors with the rest of me. Which reminds me, is that a criminal offense? Will being caught in that appear in my records or something? I suppose I'm bound to find that out for myself anyway. Well, this happened every single time we had a movie date (we lasted weeks.) And it's funny because when we're alone in the room he isn't as horny. At least I was always hornier than he was.
And then there's this other guy who was a sex fiend and did me on the bus and other unlikely places and yet when we were in the movies he barely even looked at me. I kept running my hand on his arm and the most he would do was give my leg a squeeze. This time I wanted something. The movies are much more private than a bus zooming along Commonwealth. But nope, no can do for him.
But my dates with my boyfriends were always on the more serious and sweeter side of things. I don't know why, but somehow, I get this feeling a date's going to be great if the guy does not do anything fishy with me on the movies. My first boyfriend, I used to reach out for his hand in the movies when we were still new as a couple. And then after months, he began to reach for my hand too. And then our relationship became cold and we didn't hold hands anymore. Then we broke up and got back together again. And we came back to holding hands in the movies. When he's feeling cuddly he'd come rest his head on my shoulder sometimes. And I'd try not to move too much lest my sharp shoulder bones give him an injury.
My second boyfriend loved holding hands too. And we'll hold hands in the movie until they were decidedly warm and sweaty. And on choice parts, the tearjerkers mostly, we'd give each other's hands an extra squeeze until we're holding hands with increasing tightness as the movie ends. I'd find myself walking out of the cinema, working my hand and trying to get blood flowing back to it again. Hands severed due to fear of prying eyes around us.
My third boyfriend had no fear of prying eyes. Absolutely none. He'd kiss me in the lips in the middle of the mall. In its exact center, mind. And he'd hold my hand whenever and wherever he felt like it. We didn't last long but in the movies, I remember that at times he paid more attention to me than to what we're watching. He'd ask me if I'm cold. He'd check if I'm comfy. And when there's a hot guy on screen he'd get jealous and try to cover my eyes. Seriously. But that's him. That's his own brand of sweetness. No other guy paid as much attention to me as he did.
And of course, there's my dear Little Boy. We've watched quite a lot of movies when we were dating. To the point that we were counting the coin we have left between us just so we can watch this film on that night. Once, the attendants even asked us to leave less than 30 minutes into the animated film we were watching because apparently, the mall was on fire. Yeah. We had the tickets refunded the next week anyway and we watched the same movie and had a great time and I even cried.
I liked him a lot and of course I tried holding his hand in the movies but he's really tough and he wouldn't give in. Not in the first movie. Not in the second. Not in the third. I'd ask if I can hold his hand and he'd always raise his eyebrow as if that was out of the question. Then one time we were in the movies, with my hand hanging about, I felt his hand touch mine. Not hold, really. No fingers entwined. But it was a touch. An unmistakeable one. And I rubbed my fingers on his and he didn't move them away. I looked at him, a bit puzzled, but he was engrossed in the movie and I just smiled. Oh how I smiled. But he's gone now too. Like the rest of them.
And still there were times when I'd watch movies alone. Just me and my faithful Jansport backpack on my lap but not hiding anything. People around me but no prying eyes on me because there's nothing unusual to see. My hands hanging out on both arms of my seat, safe from being touched because the seats beside me are empty. No heads on my shoulder. No sweaty palms. No hands covering my eyes. Just me watching the movie, hoping against hope it will make me feel something again. Until the next guy comes around.
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