The Encounter.
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Last Saturday, I went out with my girl friends (that's two words) to watch 27 Dresses. I did not pick the movie, they did. And so in the absence of any other respectable movie that I could sway the three girls to see, I was forced into watching a chick flick.

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Well, I wasn't really forced. I really wanted to watch the film since it stars both Katharine Heigl (To Bi For 06) and James Marsden (Must Blow 47). If they didn't ask me earlier, I would have asked Rachel to go with me.

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I enjoyed the movie. It is one of those Hollywood products that you just consume during the two hours that you are in the dark theater and without expectation to bring with you anything outside after the showing is done. I laughed at the funny lines and situations. I sometimes emphatized with Heigl. But most of the time, I just gushed over her and Marsden. Though there is barely a spark onscreen, they make a cute enough couple to carry the film. These are enough reasons for me to end up saying that it was money and time well spent.

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-----oOo-----

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What happened after the movie is what defined my day.

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Some shops were still open when we went out the cinema and so the girls decided to window shop. Not five minutes after, I saw my old classmate, C, walking in my direction. I wanted to avoid meeting him but it seemed too late, he had already seen me. And so I acted as if I was glad to see him.

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I have not taken two steps in C's direction when I saw, walking on his right side, G. It was like a dream slowly unfolding before my eyes. Three questions immediately popped into my mind. First, what is she doing here when she is supposed to be in Washington? Second, are these two dating (C did ask G out in law school but she refused)? And third, did her wedding not push through?

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G. was also able to spot me from afar. She easily recognized me and she was all smiles when our eyes met. There was a sparkle in her eyes and she could not suppress the smile that her thin lips formed. She was genuinely happy to see me.

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She uttered my name in greeting. C and I shook hands but he stayed in the background afterwards. C is privy to G and my history (or denial of it) and so he understood the significance of the moment and the awkwardness that underlie it. I resolved to shake hands with G., willing to control myself and be civil. But she pulled me towards her and we kissed, cheek-to-cheek. I also gave her a brief but tense hug. C watched on, intently.

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Afterwards, there was a barrage of questions from G. She asked me about work (mostly) and my health (generally). No questions on whether I was already married or whether I was there dating some girl.

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On my mind, I was already lining up my questions to pry G. for information. While answering questions about myself, I was preparing to roll out my first query on my fishing expedition. I heard you got married? (Asking this with the hope that she would be a little embarassed and say that, no, it did not push through).

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But I did not have the chance to ask the question. Even before I could proceed, I already saw the answer walking in our direction, a paper cup of hot chai in hand. A guy, about my height but definitely overweight and a little hunched joined us, walking between C and G.

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I told myself, no, please no. I don't want to meet him. I don't want to know his name. But inevitably it did happen. Graciously, we were introduced.

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G. said - Dirksabbath, this is Lucky, my spouse.

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Lucky repeated the words in silent distaste. My spouse?

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My spouse? What kind of an intro is that? G. couldn't say to my face the word "husband". It quickly reminded me of that instance when she was walking hand in hand with her boyfriend in law school and that as we crossed paths she withdrew her hand from his. I knew then as I knew last Saturday night the undertones.

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She added, we haven't seen each other in six years. Since graduation? She looked at me for confirmation.

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C repeated the words in disbelief. Six years?

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I wanted to correct G. and remind her of the two occasions that we saw each other but pretended not to have seen the other. Of the afternoon that we took our oaths as lawyers that I ignored her congratulations. Which I regret doing, if only I've known that she had broken up with her boyfriend of the time. Of a common friend's wake wherein we chose to sit on different ends of the chapel, during mass.

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I was ready to shake the bastard's hand but he didn't offer it. I looked at C, wondering if he noticed the impertinence. I was ready to let it go, but about ten or twenty seconds after, Lucky extended his hand and I had no choice but to accept it.

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A couple across us noticed the noise we were making. The guy recognized G. as his cousin and he approached her. C, the bastard and I were left to talk.

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More accurately, C and I talked. Lucky just observed and sipped his tea. While C and I traded on news about our classmates, I observed Lucky. I easily noticed that he looked a little retarded and his left eye is smaller than the other. Like any man I asked myself, what did G. see in this guy?

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The converation between C and me was awkward and forced, and these weren't lost on either of us. I tried to break it off by uttering some excuse on joining my friends for dessert but G. would sometimes join in and the conversation would continue.

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In the middle of the encounter another thought entered my mind. I need to have meaningless sex to wash off this night. I was crossing out the names of my potential partners. I couldn't ---and wouldn't--- do it to Rachel or Leslie. Should I call Quincy? It is already midnight, he would suspect. Anyone else? Return the text of Jersey? Dindo might still be up. [I eventually abandoned this course of action as my friends and I parted at nearly two o'clock in the morning.]

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Fortunately, the whole encounter was soon over. It lasted less than twenty minutes. They went inside a coffee shop to join C and Lucky's friends while me and the girls headed to Dairy Queen. I wanted to end the night with handshakes all around but G. once again pulled me close to plant kisses on both my cheeks.

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As I knew it would, the encounter left me a little rattled. And sleepless. Two truths were confirmed. G. is already married. And we will never be.

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That night I had my usual bout of over-analysis and psychoanalysis. The scene played and re-played in my mind. Why did G. kiss me in front of the retard?

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The initial answer that came to me was that she still has feelings for me. That she was genuinely happy to have seen me after all these years. She couldn't help herself. She had to embrace the guy, the one who got away.

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But that was egotistical. Along with the regret that I probably sent her off to a loveless and purely perfunctory marriage. Really what could she have seen in that retard?

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And then there were moments of consolation. For myself. I am certainly the better man. I mean, look at him. What could she have seen in him? Her spouse? That still makes me her husband. It doesn't close the door for an affair. The potential. At least she didn't end up marrying a hunk who is also tall, handsome and intelligent. She would have mocked me. That would have mocked me. And the sex must not be as satisfying. Or gratifying. And also not as often. I mean, look at him. Who would want to sleep with him? And even if G. allows it, the bastard wouldn't know what to do. Poor G., trapped in a doomed marriage.

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But as I get closer to sleep, the answer dawned on me. Why she kissed me. She was telling me - I can do this now without feeling anything for you. I have let you go though I can see in your scarred eyes and feel in your tense hands that you haven't. I can hug you and let you go. I can kiss you and not feel it. I can love you and still love another. See, I am free.

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I was on the verge of tears.
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-----0Oo-----
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Dejected. Tom Brady and the New England Patriots lost their Super Bowl match against the New York Giants today, 14-17.

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For most of the game, the Giants led, 10-7. In the last two minutes of the fourth quarter, Tom rallied his team to a touchdown, which placed the game in their favor at 14-10. It seemed that the Patriots would be able to end their perfect 18-0 season with the crown. However, with only 35 seconds left, Eli Manning, quarterback for the Giants, orchestrated a final touchdown that banished the dream of Brady and his squad.

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Here are photos of Tom Brady, dejected. Though I have never played football, I somehow know how Tom feels at the moment. I've had my share of losses and dreams shattered. It will take days, even weeks, before Tom will be able to put this event behind him and go on with his life.

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Anyway, that is what the off-season is for.

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-----oOo------
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The real gem in 27 Dresses is actor James Marsden. I have not seen him as relaxed and comfortable as in this film, the light-hearted Enchanted included. It seems that in playing the character of Malcolm/Kevin, the young man writing wedding pieces for the lifestyle pages of the New York Journal, James is finally playing someone who approximates his true self.

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Congratulations to him also for finally winning the girl. He never accomplished that in any of his prior films.

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