Bolet

Bolet walked with a swagger and projected an image of a tough guy. He talked street trash and punctuated his utterances with a Putang Ina and started or ended all his statements with Pare; he was street smart and he walked the talk. He lived on a side street perpendicular to the avenue fronting the university. The apartment they lived in accommodated boarders and bed spacers; it was crowded and stunk like the open sewage canal out front.

Bolet was actually a corruption of Bullitt, a character portrayed by Steve McQueen in a 1968 movie, a rebellious and borderline-insubordinate police officer who did things his way despite interference from his superiors (-- a real-life San Francisco homicide investigator named David Toschi-- the man who dogged the serial killer who called himself The Zodiac, is said to be the model for McQueen's character, including the use of a specially designed quick-draw shoulder holster for his weapon. The image projected by McQueen was later copied in Dirty Harry and The French Connection; and recently in Max Payne). The Bullitt character was the personification of cool; a beatnik reeking with machismo. In the movie, McQueen drove a Green ‘68 Ford Mustang GT 390 Fastback (-- the image of a police officer who drives a cool car, was later copied in Starsky and Hutch and Miami Vice; and recently in CSI: Miami). The movie also featured an American muscle car chase-- seven glorious minutes of it, McQueen’s turbo charged pony car going head to head against the villain’s 440 Dodge Magnum Charger. The chase was shot at normal film speed; heightened only by top-notch cinematography, sharp editing and multiple camera angles; there were no cranked-up footages, no "superhero" stunts, no impossible CGI tricks -- just adrenaline-pumping speed (-- replicated in The Seven-Ups and later in Ronin).

Bolet lived with his mother and two siblings, curiously named Baby Boy and Baby Girl as if their mother didn’t have the time to give them proper names and instead described them in their birth certificates. I never saw their father; he seemed to have abandoned them, I’m not sure; but I counted at least two policemen who were banging their mother; one during lunch breaks or early afternoons; the other comes home with her after work then leave after dinner. She worked at the nearby Manila City Hall and she would come home at odd hours to get banged by either of the policemen.

Bolet ran card games at their apartment:-- 41, 44, Lucky Nine, Red Cow, Russian Poker and Five Stud Poker; there was always a game going on among the boarders. It was mostly a small stakes game, sometimes a mark comes in and they hustle him and soon he was separated from his money. I soon learned the art of marking cards, card counting and using “buntis na baraha”-- a tricked out deck of cards that we get in Quiapo.

Bolet, I think, was a borderline-sociopath. On occasions we drank Beer-Gin-Coke at a nearby carinderia or on the pavement and he would beg leave to go for a while; he’d return after five minutes, take off his shirt and throw a wristwatch or a wallet on the table. One time when we were drinking on the pavement, his mother’s lover-- the second shift banger, joined us; he couldn’t sit comfortably on the sidewalk because his .38 Cal. service pistol rammed against his paunch. He unzipped his pants then he took out his gun and sat on it. In a while, he stood up to take a leak. He left his pistol lying on the ground; I grabbed it and tucked it behind me; I took it as a practical joke and waited for him to look for it; he didn’t. He totally forgot all about it. After a while, he stood up and left. Somebody remarked that he'll probably bang Bolet's mother for a while then come back; we all laughed; but after an hour, he hadn't come back. Somebody said that he must have dozed off. We all laughed at the thought. I eventually gave the pistol to Bolet. He tucked it on his waist and begged leave to go; he returned with two wristwatches and three wallets. He wasn't done yet, he walked up to an oncoming jeepney; pointed the pistol to the driver and demanded money.

Bolet went on to be a policeman. He was on his way to live up to his name: a cool Steve McQueen with a fast gun and an even faster car. Later I found out that Bolet hijacked a truck and was jailed for it.

Bolet was killed in prison.

Outlaws only do wrong when they feel it's right;
Criminals only feel right when they're doing wrong.
-- Smiling Jack, Stone Junction