THE CURIOUS CASE OF THEM AT THE NEXT TABLE

I remember once talking to someone about the so-called “Age of Aquarius”—that dreamy idea that we are on the cusp of an era defined by universal brotherhood. In this age, the story goes, social problems will finally be approached with a sense of fairness to everyone, and the old divisions—religion, politics, even the rigid boundaries between the sexes—will slowly dissolve.

It sounds idealistic, almost improbable. But apparently even something like bisexuality is folded into that vision. People’s preferences, we’re told, will no longer be confined to the opposite sex. Instead, we’ll gravitate toward what’s inside someone’s mind rather than what’s between their legs.

Interesting thoughts, certainly. But maybe the explanation is simpler. Perhaps we’re just more in tune with our emotions now. Maybe we’re less afraid to express them, regardless of how other people might react.

These musings drifted through my head one afternoon while I was having a late lunch with my friend Mark. We met at Moro Lorenzo in Katipunan right after I finished taking care of some school requirements. (As a sidenote, I had been toying with the idea of enrolling in a non-degree course at Ateneo. I miss school terribly. I checked the course list, but unfortunately I’m already too late for the term.)

While we were eating, we found ourselves seated beside a group of three people who looked about seventeen or early adulthood: two guys and a girl. I became quietly absorbed in trying to figure out the dynamics between them. The two boys sat beside each other, while the girl faced them across the table.

At first glance, it seemed easy enough to assume the boys were a couple. There was a certain energy between them—a familiarity that suggested more than casual friendship. And honestly, it’s always nice to see same-sex couples comfortable enough to hang out openly. They had clearly come from the gym; both were lugging large workout bags.

Then something happened that caught my attention. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried easily. One of the boys reached over and grabbed the other’s right bicep, squeezing it admiringly while complimenting his arm. It almost felt like the opening scene of some cheeky late-night film—more touching followed, along with more enthusiastic praise. There was a playful, slightly mischievous charge between them.

Naturally, I glanced at the girl sitting across from them, curious about her reaction. She seemed perfectly unfazed.

Then came the twist.

After they finished eating, the girl and one of the boys stood up, said goodbye to the other, and walked off together—his arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. As it turns out, Mark had actually seen the same group earlier inside the gym and confirmed what I had failed to guess: the boy and the girl were the couple.

It struck me then how different things feel nowadays. Male bonding has apparently reached new and confusing heights. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to tell who’s playing on which team.

Maybe we really are drifting into the Age of Aquarius.

Or maybe…

we can just blame **Brokeback Mountain**. 😄