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Vermissen aus dem Spaß

Vermissen aus dem Spaß (Missing Out the Fun)

     “Spas” is the German word for “fun”. It happens also to be the name of one of the most popular bars in Lucban. It must have been a year already since the last time I went to that place. And at this point in time, I have to admit that I am missing out the fun.

     Spaß is simply a bar; nothing more, nothing less. There was never a fancy thing about it that entices me to go back as often as I could, save the postcards and wine tags glued on the walls that I want to steal someday. The ambience inside is air-conditioned and it gets quite uncomfortable whenever someone is burning his lungs out with, you guessed it, cigarette. The air gets so thin that you would cry to wash away the inevitable eye irritation. The chairs and tables are economically simple. There’s no VIP area, no membership, no strict dress codes. They serve nothing more than the local brand of beers and wines. Though the menu includes some expensive names, more often than not, it is not available. The food they serve is not something I would kill for. Besides the fact that it’s not something to brag about to your bakasyonista friends, it’s not even satisfactory in both the stomach and the pocket. Bottom line is Spaß doesn’t have anything to boast except maybe its foreign name. In the very literal meaning of the word, it is everything cheap fun. The only thing that sets it apart from the rest of bars in Lucban is its having a small dwelling where the customers are free to belt out a note through the videoke. Well, coming from me, this is not your ordinary videoke machine that you slip a token to and anticipate a 100 score by the end of each song. It was a smalltiny platform with a microphone stand where, with all due respect to everyone who experienced, myself included, you’re given every bit of right to assume that you’re a singer (even if it gets a little painful in the ears).

     With those said, there’s just no point for me to miss the place. Why would I settle here if I know that I can find some place better? But for some reasons unbeknown, I just miss it. Without bothering to ask myself why, I want to go back there, half-wishing to bring back the old fun.

     My sociology teacher back in first year once said that inuman or drinking is just a front; the noble purpose of tagayan (taking shots) is to enjoy a no holds-barred conversation among people under the influence of alcohol. I mean, yes, I miss that kind of company. To be honest, I don’t consume as much alcohol as intended (including softdrinks). I often but not always pass up a tagay (shot) because I really don’t like the taste of wine (except vodka). Worse is that I develop hives whenever my alcohol tolerance got the best of me. I’d rather escape a shot by pressing myself on Spas’ small corner to sing at the top of my voice! But with much dignified effort, I can’t help but search for the simple amusements I get by drinking with friends. You know, the one that gets me bruised and scratched by clumsily hitting a hard object, yet numb to pain; the one that provides me an acceptable excuse for acting stupid; the one that gives me a terrible headache, warm feeling and tired eyes the following day as I struggle to appear sober. It was never about the place, really. It just so happened that Spas drew a lot of experiences I’ve had with a bottle of Red Horse in my hand. Spas has witnessed how I put my juvenile years of college to waste. It noted how I lost my poise, how I grew a bigger beer belly, and how the audience applauded after I sang “High”.

     For the record, Spas filled up a slot with hearty laughter and sincere tears and how I communed with people, both remarkably and lousily, on my backward journey to nostalgia.

   All this, without a doubt, is fun! It wasn’t easy to resist the lure of inuman. There are days I imagine myself having the high life with my friends afloat a pool of German beer and celebrating euphorically as if it’s Oktoberfest. That kind of imagination relives the kind of fun that I have experienced before. It sometimes dictates me to open a bottle of vodka in order to get lost in that memory! Let’s cheers! Hic!

Lemme Hear You Say Waaah...

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