In the previous discussion on working class men, I unconsciously neglected to mention the waitErs. I have a lot of friends who waited on their waiters till the end of their shifts, usually at 3am or even 6am. And I haven’t heard any bad reviews. Not yet. S., a good old friend who collects paintings and big bikes, has two waiter-boyfriends from the posh bars in Makati. J., another friend, loves them North Park boys, and the classic, G., drives for his waiter-lover all the way from their swanky Antipolo hills love-nest to Spirals in Sofitel Philippine Plaza inside the CCP Complex. Perhaps, I would never know how it feels but these friends swear by the beau-ideal of their relationships with the waiters. Are they agile? Polished to please? With hunky-dory service? Model is Raffy Santos, apparently a waiter coaxed into posing bare-skinned.