Senator Ed Angara was winding down his book-signing party upstairs at Shangri-la Makati when my date and I found ourselves down at the lobby staring at an easily recognizable nape and back. The man was about to board a big black SUV when I called out, “Erap!” like a movie fan.

He turned instinctively, came back into the lobby, bussed me on my unpowdered cheek and there left more than a hint of a scent of cologne (or lotion, or facial soap).

I whispered a few words into his ear and he nodded. Then he greeted a small group of ladies waiting to be picked up by their drivers.

My date and I, we resumed walking in the direction of the side door. Not more than 30 paces away, another accidental meeting. This time, Chavit Singson. Oh my gosh! Had the two enemies met at the senator’s party? Did fists, bullets, and words fly between their two camps?

“No,” Chavit said, reading my mind, “I did not come from the ballroom. I did not see him. He has left.”

Like his former compadre, he planted a kiss on the left side of my face. Either he wasn’t wearing a fragrance or it’s the same as Erap’s, because the scent was so strong, Erap’s reinforced by Chavit’s, that it stayed on my cheek until I got home. It took me a while to remember that just hours before, at a luncheon of the Rotary Club of Manila, I had run into two former Erap Cabinet secretaries, Rod Reyes and Ben Diokno. Was this going to be an Erap day?

There were so many ex-government people from so many administrations, the meeting looked like a convention of X-Men. Ben Santos, Toting del Rosario, Tong Payumo, Tony Gonzalez, Raul Goco, Mon Montaño, Ralf Gonzales.

Erap and Chavit were not present, but they figured prominently in the conversations about mistresses.

The only accident that did not happen that night was Ping Lacson.