A party in all its incarnations, whether it is a private get-together or an all-out corporate-sponsored bash, is a way for people to forget their worries for a moment, look their best, and be the stars of their own show. In more progressive countries partying is taken very seriously. The demi-monde of NY, Paris or London succumb to nervous breakdowns if they find themselves empty-handed of certain invitations that everyone who matters seems to possess. Here it really is quite different. The velvet ropes of the chi-chi places of fancy are snobby and cruel. Thank God that in our sweet little archipelago, our abaca ropes are inviting, warm and all out for having a good time.
Filipinos have a distinct way of partying. Here are some notes, that prove I use my ungodly hours uh...wisely:
1. I noticed one "hot spot" opens every season that people from all regions of the country make a pilgrimage to. The fortunate few who live in close proximity (or at least don’t have to take a plane to get there) saturate the hot spot till they start smelling like the place. Then they abandon it.
2. We all have our own version of Cheers; you know, a place where everybody knows your name. It may or may not be the bar du jour, but it is where you and your crew goes to just kick back and relax, and your drink is served even before you ask for it.
3. We’re suckers for open bars. The master stroke of this whole concept however is that it usually begins at the unholy hour of 9 p.m. and ends at 11 p.m., the time wherein I’m still figuring out which lipgloss to use. But people go anyway even way past the time slot of freebie-tinis.
4. We’re suckers for group birthday parties. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. A free bottle and a reserved table make any about-to-be-older person feel so much younger. My friend once had a birthday party in at least eight watering holes. Marketing and PR is such a wonderful thing. So what if you’re sharing your party with eight other strangers? As impersonal as a mass birthday party is, it’s still a great, great way to be thanked for being an active participant in the mindless venture of being a barfly. It’s the only time in the world where everybody shells out (including your guests) but you. Unless you’re a sucker who actually insists on paying (guilty), which brings me to my next observation which is..
5. Why can’t we just split the bill. Yes, I know it happens but more often than not a line between the suckers and the freeloaders is drawn. Is it because were so poor in math or that were just too boozed out to bother with calculating our shares? I blame it on our hospitable ako na lang mentality. Either way someone pays the whole bill, sometimes there’s even this tug of war going on, then the victor doesn’t really look too victorious as he pulls out his dead presidents. Then there’s the artful dodger. The really chatty one who suddenly becomes conspicuously absent as the bill arrives. Then there’s just the rich good guy who wants to just have fun.
6. Pinoys like talking about deep things or important stuff like the sinking economy or religion at raves, bars, really noisy parties or the like. Are they trying to look serious and decent in the rather indecent surroundings or just making conversation? If it’s the latter, I just wish it would be talk on how a good mojito is made or just comparing notes on who’s hot. As Pinoy as I am, I find it hard to talk about solemn matters with a truckload of face gunk plastered on my face, with less than a yard of fabric covering me and a dripping martini glass nestled on my left hand as I try to damage my eardrums with the electronica music playing in the background. It totally kills any degree of credibility that I may possess. This is especially annoying when someone is trying to mack on you.
7. I like seeing really important and famous people plastered and saying dumb things. Especially to me. I try not to repeat it to anyone else, except maybe to my paramour. I can’t be that good especially in times when we have nothing to say to each other.
8. I like going out with my male friends more. I can boss them around. But I need at least one female friend to retouch lipstick with in the bathroom. It’s really lonely doing it by yourself.
9. There is a cycle to the party scene. Around December, everyone is like a damn Arab spending money left and right. Parties, parties almost everyday. Then comes the New Year where everyone’s cash fizzles away along with the fireworks. Then there’s this social Sahara desert wherein everyone is just making the most out of the offerings of television. Around summer, things start swinging again, kicking off usually around Holy Week. After a week or so of unholy spending, the languor again ensues. Around the rainy season one can’t help but feel the itch of the Happy Hour rash. Maybe it’s our way of coping with the ho-hum effect of the rainy season. Like last week there were two kicking parties: the V opening that my friend Pepper Teehankee helped organize and the late night Saturdays Were All Made Of Stars Dish party. Very dangerous time of the year. Even the most disciplined of folks just get out trying to cheer themselves up with some lickey. I guess everyone is just ready to rally after that looong slumber. Vodka is how the Swedes battle their suicidal tendencies due to the depression that they experience during their Icicle season. We Pinoys love tragedy but we love conquering it too- in grand style nonetheless. Oh and then this serves as a sort of opening act to the main event which is the cash-burning Yuletide season. See, it all comes full circle.
10. Everybody wants to go to an opening. A soft opening is even cooler, it makes you feel like an insider.
11. Theme parties are so much fun. Tim Yap thinks of the most imaginative ones, but of course everyone has to be corny (except for those fight people whom I love) and come in normal clothes. I say send in the clowns, or the whores or the pimps or the cartoon characters. Its like they were never children and have forgotten how to have fun. There’s nothing lonelier than a person who takes himself too seriously.
12. I love to have a good time with my pink rafts of cosmos buoying me in my sea of fun. However, those candy colored nasties also make me a bad, bad girl. From off comments, to singing in front of a crowd of strangers to flirting with all the wrong men (sometimes even women)  my carefree night can quickly turn the following day into a climb-the-wall-should-I- kill myself -now -event that gives Freud a lot of material to work on.
13. We’re all for reverse elitism...or at least I think so. In New York or London, people hold really cool parties at junkyards. Here we like to throw them cool pah-ties at really prim places. Case in point: today’s Anthony Pappa party at the Polo Club. That ought to soften the starch on their collars. I really think that’s so fab. My friend Joel said that they should have one at the Pen lobby, while another friend said they should throw a rave at the Tower Club. I love that whole ironic concept. Go NBK!
14. When in doubt or feeling kinda out of it or having a case of social vertigo  have faith in what a spiked drink (or better a spiker straight up) can do. It suddenly gives your staid surroundings an almost oneiric quality. My most unforgettable nights started that way, just can’t seem to remember them though. This is a different take on being the master of your domain.
15. I’m really getting into this, it’s embarrassing.
16. I better stop, I’m getting annoying.
So I guess my postscript shall be: When people say that you’re lucky to be young and enjoy all those mindless parties while you can. I think that having a good time is a luxury that were all entitled to. Till that heart of yours is beating...keep the bubbly flowing.