The Spinner

When Arrjae Puno and I were in our early twenties, our tireless selves used to be the poster boys of Orosa. At 1 am on a Saturday morning, we would walk the streets of Malate on our way to Bed. The scene then, littered with wasted, happy folks who want to be seen and get laid were hardly a distraction. We still yearn to get to our destination.After paying the 200 pesos cover charge, we would