why do you call me when you're high?
And so I found myself in ‘70s Bistro again last Saturday. I haven’t been to a rock joint in about a year I think. The last time I saw a band play was in this house party my ex-boyfriend dragged me to. I’m surprised though that the Bistro remains hipster-free. Not that there’s anything wrong with hipsters it’s just that I’m surprised that they aren’t there (the ex was after all was a hipster). Well, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised at all. Despite its makeover, ‘70s Bistro’s vibe is still closer to a Ihaw-Ihaw beer joint than a swanky rock club. Session Road was on stage and we caught their last two songs. I realized that I miss the energy surrounding rock gigs: the loud music, the old familiar songs and the fans who almost always scream “More! More!” at the end of the night. Hana is so pretty and talented it made me wonder why she hasn’t at least reached a Kitchie Nadal status. Kitchie was of course for a time a household name. (Maybe I should submit a drama concept starring Hana, Kitchie and Barbie as three rock chicks who date unattainable men and straight-laced yuppies. Who knows maybe it’ll get green-lighted?) I remember watching Session Road in that reggae bar in Timog way back in the early 2000s. They had a waitress who looked like Alex de Rossi. I was then working for a newspaper and my brother and his friends (my old drinking buddies) were then relatively unknowns. Now, they have awards and critically acclaimed movies and I, well, I’m slaving for a TV network sans awards. A few weeks ago I was listening to Yano (wow, may nakakakilala pa ba sa Yano?) and my mind started flying. I wanted to write a story about the party that ensued in Edsa Shrine after Marcos left. It will be a love story about a tambay and a future saleslady and both will have a tragic ending. Kamusta na nga ba? Ayos pa ba? The irony of it all is that I thought of this concept while on a threadmill, desperately trying to get a fit body to attract jocks. Wait, where was I? Ah yes, last Saturday I was in a rock joint bobbing my head to a rock song about love gone bad. All I can say is “It’s three in the morning and I’m trying to change your mind/ Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply/ Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” If you're a hipster you probably know the band that sang this song although, again, I'm most definitely not a hipster (not there's anything wrong with being one it's just that I'm not).