So, here we go with the first bar in the “Bars of Barretto” series. Redz is located the furthest distance from where I live–2,393 steps away, around a 30-minute walk. That’s one of the reasons I’m almost never patronizing Redz–too many distractions between here and there. In fact, this visit was the first since the pandemic bullshit first started. Back then the bar was called Red Baron. I don’t know if ownership changed or just the name. I wasn’t really a fan of Red Baron either. When I’d venture all the way out to the Arizona Resort it was to visit the floating bar. Now that I think about it, I most frequently drank in this bar when I was a tourist staying at Arizona. Back then it was called Score bar and it was a fun hangout. I mentioned it in my trip report here from September 2016.
My then-girlfriend Eun Oke was quite popular with the bargirls at Score Bar. Of course, she bought (and I paid) them all drinks, so what’s not to like?
My, how times have changed. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find at Redz, but those vibes from happier days were nowhere to be found. I was a little surprised to be greeted by name when I first entered. Turns out the bartender (I can’t remember her name) used to be a waitress on the floating bar back in those carefree times. There’s always a familiar face to be found in my little town it seems. We chatted briefly and she introduced me to her cute little assistant working behind the bar. I snapped this picture of the pool table area:
Nice enough venue–clean and modern. Also saw a dartboard. Two other customers at one table and twelve or so bargirls.
I wanted to get more photos, including the gals behind the bar but was told photography is not allowed. You know, I understand that posting photos on social media of violations of COVID protocols can be a problem, but the bar was practically empty and no such violations were taking place. So not being able to document my visit was a bit of a buzz killer.
I’m not exactly sure how I would characterize the type of bar this is. They call it a pub, so I guess that’s the genre they are going for. But a room full of bargirls also suggests they are striving for girly bar status. This seemed to be confirmed when the bartender suggested I buy her assistant a lady drink. I declined to do so, pointing out that if I’m not even allowed to take a picture I didn’t see the point in buying her a drink.
I looked at my drink chit and saw that my beer was 110 pesos ($2.20) which is among the most expensive bars in town. I’d say the average price of a beer in Barretto is 80 pesos, and I’ve seen it as cheap as 65. Given the chilly atmosphere (especially after I declined to buy a lady drink) I decided to make this a one beer and out visit.
Sorry there is not something meatier to share in this first bar report. Suffice to say, I found nothing at Redz that would warrant a return visit anytime soon.
I ventured out to the far side of Barretto last evening to visit Redz Pub. It will be the first bar featured in the “Bars of Barretto” series. Since I was on that side of town anyway, and the girls at Marick’s bar had been hinting about wanting tacos, I stopped by The Coffee Shop, a local restaurant said to have the best tacos in town. I don’t know about that, but they are certainly the biggest.
I got take-out for the girls, but this photo from their website gives you an idea of the size.
I didn’t have one last night, but my past experience was along the lines of bigger doesn’t make better. But, lots of people think otherwise apparently. They were really busy last night, and I was the only non-Filipino there. Service really sucked and I wondered if maybe my white skin wasn’t welcome. Ah well, I got my order and left.
So, I delivered four tacos, two hard and two soft, to Marick’s. There were four girls working last night, although Marick didn’t come in until later. They all shared one and had some rice (naturally) on the side. Whatever rocks your boat.
This is how I roll at Marick’s.And that’s who I roll with.
Now, my style is to enjoy my beer and provide lady drinks to the gal who is taking care of me. Occasionally I will treat two girls if I am the only customer. So, last night it was the cutie pictured above who was helping to empty my wallet. A couple of other customers came in during the course of my visit, and one of them bought a lady drink for one of the other girls. Later, when I was once again the solitary customer, I ordered another round for me and “my” girl. She pointed to her co-worker sitting on the other side of me and whispered, “what about her?” I shrugged and said, I’m only buying one lady drink–you decide who gets it. She came back with the drink and kept it for herself. That gave me a smile, generosity only goes so far I guess. Anyway, the other girl was the only one who hadn’t gotten a drink all night and she had half-assedly rubbed my back a little, so I told her to get herself a drink.
Then the owner, who had recently arrived, pointed to the other two girls and said “what about them?” And I lost it and went off on her. “What about them?” I loudly exclaimed. “I’ve been here buying drinks all night. I brought the girls food. Why is it my responsibility to buy every girl in the bar a drink?” She backed down immediately, but she had chilled my buzz. I finished my drink and left. Not sure when or if I’ll be back. The thing I hate most in the bar experience is getting drink pressure. It usually comes from one of the girls “please buy me drink” which is irritating enough. But to have the bar owner try and shame me into buying drinks was just over the top.
So, I guess this is a good time to talk about the various types of bars you’ll see in the Bars of Barretto series. Almost all the bars go with the “lady drink” option–you buy a drink for your waitress or “guest relations officer”, and she provides company during your bar visit. The only exceptions I can think of here in Barretto would be the hotel restaurant bars. A bar with lady drinks is pretty much a win-win for the bar and the girl. The drinks are usually around 200 pesos each, and the girl gets half of that as commission. As I understand it, some bars have drink quotas and failure to achieve that goal results in a reduction of the daily salary, which might only be 200 pesos ($4.) to begin with. Yeah, that’s fucked up. But that’s the system that is in place and that’s why I try to be somewhat generous when I can.
Within the bar universe, you have what I call regular bars. Just a place to go and have a drink, chat with friends, listen to music, or whatever else eases your mind, including the attentions of a lovely bar girl. The sports bars fall into this category as well, offering live games from back home, be it rugby, football, soccer, or cricket. I’m a regular in the regular type bars.
Another type of venue that is popular used to be called “go-go” bars, and they featured a stage with scantily clad dancing girls. Under the current pandemic rules, bars are not allowed to have dancers on stage, so these establishments have been especially hard hit. Nowadays the gals just sit around on stage like eye candy, waiting for some lucky guy to call them down for a drink or two. I liked them a lot better back in the old days.
And so what category does that leave? Ah, prostitution bars. Well, technically they do not exist. I did a lengthy post on Juicy Bars and Prostitution back in 2009, comparing and contrasting my experiences in Korea and the Philippines. If you are interested in more background on that subject, click the link and give it a read.
I would argue that these days prostitution bars are a thing of the past, but of course, prostituion is still a thriving business. There was a time when you could find the dancer or waitress of your dreams, pay the bar directly (popularly as a bar fine or early work release) and take the girl out of the bar for a night of debauchery. That method didn’t pass the smell test with the authorities and certain do-gooder NGOs, and after a series of raids and incarcerations, the practice is virtually non-existent nowadays. Instead, in certain bars when you connect with a sexy lady and want to do “take-out”, you negotiate directly with the gal. Assuming an agreed-upon price is reached, you pay the young lady and she is responsible for reimbursing the bar for her absence from work. This keeps the bar out of the direct transaction of money for sex. The downside is that if the girl fails to perform as promised, the guy who didn’t get screwed has little recourse to get his money refunded. Not a perfect system for sure and also one I almost never participate in. Why should I? I have Friends With Benefits.
Anyway, as we start visiting the bars around Barretto you’ll get a better feel for the way things work and I’ll elaborate more on what I personally look for in a bar.
Little by little, my health continues to improve. I’m beginning to fear that some of my issues may be age-related, but I’d rather keep getting older than not.
I can’t say the ivermectin made a difference, but I maybe need to reduce my water intake and replace it with beer just to be safe.
Well, I woke up this morning and I took that as a good sign that I remain among the living. What are the odds? I tease, of course, but I almost had to force myself to go out last night, and even after I left the house, I considered turning around and going back home. That’s a clear indication of just how crappy I felt. But I persevered in my endeavor and 2,512 steps later I plopped myself down at It Doesn’t Matter. The outside area of the bar was pretty packed and my usual stool at the far end of the counter was taken. So, I found myself seated at the “owner’s table” with one of the two proprietors, Bob, and a couple of guys I know from the Hash. That changed things up a bit and instead of sitting one-on-one with Roan I found myself engaging in some nice back and forth with my table mates.
When I told one of the guys about my recent bout with whatever this is, he told me he had scored some ivermectin and had been taking it for an illness similar to mine. To be clear, not COVID, he’s been vaxxed and I’ve been infected, but what the hell, if it kills worms in horses it ought to destroy what been messin’ with me this past few days. Yeah, yeah, I know that is not what this particular drug is intended for, but I began using drugs for unapproved purposes before a lot you readers were even born. I tried about everything going during my wild teen years (never used anything requiring a needle though) and lived to tell about it. So, I didn’t hesitate to pop the two tablets I was supplied figuring it couldn’t hurt and might make things better. And as I mentioned above, I woke up this morning, so there’s that.
Did the invermectin help? I can’t really say. I’m better today than yesterday, but that might have been the case regardless of what I ingested. The important thing is I’m back to being close to normal. Even had the will power to go out and do a 6K hike this morning.
This afternoon one of my FWB’s came over to the house and gave me a relaxing and satisfying massage. So I’m feeling pretty dandy at the moment.
Roan joined me last night at my table seat as well. Ain’t she sweet?
On my walk this morning I spotted another potential way I might lose my life here:
It looks to me like a modest gust of wind will take down this big old tree with nearly all its roots exposed. And it is leaning directly over the trail I was walking on. It didn’t get me today, obviously, but this is a trail I frequently travel (the back way out of Alta Vista).
My carport here at the house has become quite busy:
We are in the process of stocking up on beer for the Anniversary run on the 18th. I just provide the storage, others I do all the work.
Well, it is fixin’ to be Saturday night, and those new meds have me in the mood to do some horsin’ around. *ahem* I’m thinking I’ll begin my night with documenting the first bar in my Bars of Barretto feature. Stay tuned.
Well, damn. Yesterday felt like progress, especially in losing the cough. But it’s back today and I feel like shit again. Didn’t even attempt the Friday walking group hike. Oh well. Little by little I suppose.
One thing that is rather strange and I can only assume is illness-related, is that I haven’t vaped since Monday. It wasn’t like I said to myself, “don’t put anything into your lungs until you feel better”, it was just a matter of having no craving or desire to do my vaping routine. I’ve been a big-time vaper for seven or eight years now and before that a rather heavy smoker. That I have no compunction compulsion to inhale nicotine seems bizarre. Anyway, at this point, I’m going to go with the flow and try to end my habit. Vaping isn’t anywhere near as bad as smoking, but not as healthy as nothing. Plus maintaining the equipment is a pain in the ass. We’ll see how that goes.
The morning wasn’t a complete waste at least. I came across a crockpot recipe that I decided to give a try.
Here’s the recipe. The ingredients are kind of like chili without the spice. It’s still cooking though so I haven’t had a taste as yet.
Last night I changed things up a bit in my bar-hopping routine. I started out at Queen Victoria for a couple, then crossed the street and visited Outback. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been to either one and frankly, last night was a pretty good reminder of why. I did get to thinking about doing a series of posts highlighting the Bars of Barretto. Years ago I reviewed the Dart Bars of Itaewon in a series of posts. This would be something similar–one man’s perspective on the drinking venues here in my little town. Does anyone like that idea?
After I left Outback, I went to my regular hangout at Mango’s. My usual staff servers were off, and the gal that was there left me sitting with an empty beer bottle for a period of time that exceed my tolerance level. So, instead of dining and drinking, it was one and out for me. I moved up the street and ate at Maris’ Kitchenette instead. Had chicken wings and fries, which hit the spot. The owner and two of her friends were busy drinking Filipino-style–shots of Emperador rum and Coke. I didn’t think it was a good look, but that’s not my business. The two workers were sober and diligent at least.
My final stop on the night was Wet Spot, one of my favorite bars that for some reason I just don’t visit that often these days. Bought a couple of drinks for the food waitress and she’s now my newest Facebook friend. The owner came in and we had a very nice chat. I was happy to hear that his bars are at least in a break-even status and like everyone, he’s looking forward to better days to come when the tourists return. In the meantime, he’s employing a bunch of friendly gals (must have been 25 or more in there) that would otherwise be without work. Good on you, Dave!
So, in one of the seldom frequented bars mentioned above, I chatted with a bartender I’ve been acquainted with for quite a while now. When I offered the standard greeting of “how you doing?”, she responded not so good. Turns out she is currently experiencing some medical issues (gynecological in nature, so I didn’t press for details) that she said require surgery. And of course, she doesn’t have the 35,000 pesos ($700.) required to have the operation. So, apparently, she’s been suffering for several months now. I offered her my sympathies and talked a little about how fucked the working poor are when faced with this situation. It was kind of chilling my vibe though, so I finished my beer, wished her well, and said goodnight.
I got to thinking about it more later and sent her a message: Does the hospital accept credit card payments? She didn’t know but said she would find out. I told her if they do, I’d help her out so she could get the surgery she needs. Yeah, look at me. That’s the most expensive pussy I’ve ever paid for and I’m not even getting any (nor do I want to, just to be clear). Today she messaged that credit cards are accepted and I told her to go ahead and get the procedure scheduled. The credit card thing was not about me not being able to get the cash, it was all about making sure I was getting what I’m paying for. Based on the photos of the paperwork she sent, it all seems legit, including the cost. It’s still a lot of money, but at least I’m blowing it on a worthy purpose this time.
Anyway, that’s how things are going in my sick little world.
Despite feeling poorly, yesterday’s hike was quite pleasant. I especially enjoyed the beach portion in an area I’d never previously explored. More of a fishing village kind of vibe to it, and with the bad weather all the boats were in port. I never realized there were so many in such a small area. Lots of pictures to share from the day, I’ll get to those in a minute.
After my 24 hours illness imposed exile, it was good to be sitting next to a cute Filipina with a cold beer in my hand again. Spent a couple of hours in the bars, then headed out to The Pub for my weekly fix of Korean-style wings. I always get them to go, but instead of going home last night, I took them with me for a drop-in at the Kitchenette.
This photo probably says more about my beer addled-ness than it does about the wings. They were good though.
This morning I was feeling slightly better, mostly because the hacking cough has diminished somewhat. I had to push myself out the door for my morning hike, but I did get out there. I didn’t have much staying power though and I wound up shortcutting my normal trail. I’m almost ashamed to admit that I aborted the hike after 5K and took a trike home. Well, I did do almost 17K yesterday (including the hike, dog walk, and bar hop) so perhaps an on/off every other day type approach will be my new normal. We’ll see how it goes when I start feeling better again.
Here are the photos from the hike yesterday I promised (as usual, the photography is a group effort):
The path we took was around 9K all told and was a surfer’s dream–flat as a board.Heading out on the National highway.The checkpoint that prevents COVID from entering Zambales province.But Noah, will it float?The first beach we visited was familiar and located in the Matain barangay.This is a sadly accurate depiction of the way things too often are here in the PI–a hungry dog and piles of trash.Only this small group chose to brave the threatening weather. We got lucky, the rain didn’t start until after we had concluded the hike.Leaving Matain behind and heading on to the previously unexplored beaches of Calapacuan.This is the little fishing village I saw for the first time yesterday.And because of the bad weather the bay was filled with anchored fishing boats.Lots of people were out and about though.As usual, the natives were friendly.Even the dogs didn’t give a bark about us being there.Kids on the beach.White guys on the beach.My first cookie recipients of the day.You never see shots like this one in those travel brochures.Dancing in the street.Time to head back inland. See you guys!Life’s a beach!Back across the highway and over the river…Riverside! Such as it is.Road work.Boys with sticks.We didn’t have to walk through any thatch grass this time. Much more pleasant to look at that way.Hello again, Easter mountain.
Looks like the schools may be opening soon.
Pity the children.Recuperating after the hike at the Kitchenette.
Well, shit. Here I was all proud of myself for my Hash performance on Monday, then I wake up sick again on Tuesday. This time the symptoms are more cold-like–a cough emanating from the upper chest, a runny nose, light-headedness, and an almost complete lack of energy. I managed to get the grocery shopping done in the morning and nothing much else.
You know it’s pretty bad when I voluntarily forego my daily dose of beer. Can’t even remember the last time that’s happened. I was actually wavering, entertaining thoughts of “maybe just a couple” when mother nature intervened by unleashing a hellacious combination of wind and rain. Yep, staying home definitely proved to be the right decision. Pretty boring though. I fired up my seldom used television and watched some old episodes of One Step Beyond and some other videos on YouTube. Surfed the net, played some online solitaire, then hit the sack early. My helper gave me some cough medicine and a decongestant. That helped me sleep a little more peaceably. I’ve also been using my nebulizer a lot more than usual to keep the lungs functioning satisfactorily under the stress of whatever is ailing me.
I woke up this morning still alive, so I took that as a good sign. While not exactly refreshed, I was feeling a bit more energetic.
Buddy and I took a walk around the neighborhood to survey the damage from yesterday’s storm. That downed tree was pretty much it.
I wasn’t really feeling up to doing the hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. Scott sent me the map of the path they would be taking. Around 8K and flat. Just prior to their scheduled departure time I thought to myself, “fuck it, I’m going to walk this shit off.” So I headed out and joined them. I did some coughing and sneezing along the way, but otherwise handled the exercise pretty well. Dog tired at the end though.
Now I’m sitting here dealing with the symptoms (the runny nose is the most irritating) and making plans for my immediate future. And yes, I will be following that age-old advice and drinking plenty of liquids. I do feel better than yesterday, so there’s that. And it’s Wingsday, I have a tradition to maintain.
Gawd, I’m sounding like an old man bitching about his health issues, aren’t I? Then again, I am an old man. It’s what we do!
The outer edge of the typhoon passing to the north did wind up hitting us pretty hard last night, but it was too late to impact the Hash. In fact, the overcast skies and breezy conditions during the day kept it much cooler than normal and made hiking the trail all the more pleasant. It was a Leech My Nuggets trail, so it did feature a couple of climbs but they weren’t outrageous and I managed just fine. In fact, our “sane” group, notorious for shortcutting, wound up doing the entire trail. That’s very rare for me. I was also surprised at how strong I felt while hiking–no shortness of breath or other fatigue issues. All I can attribute that to was my day off on Sunday. Perhaps I do need to give it a rest a little more often.
Here are some photos from the hike, taken from several sources:
About 6.5K all in. A nicely marked and varied trail. I liked it enough to compliment the Hare and sit on the ice with him.The first climb began with all these damn steps…And then it was trail climbing, my much-preferred mode of ascent.A stream crossing.Captain Prickhard left a little later than we did, but caught up early on.Pubic Head kept a lookout from the rear.A typical bridge crossing.Hurry up, we’re waiting!Be careful, one false step here and you’ll be in a world of hurt.No comment other than it is always nice to see the beauty of nature.Show us the way, Black And Dick Her.Still climbing.Onward and upward.This was a tricky spot. Slippery rocks and a long way to slide if you slip and fall.No shame in playing it safe.The ever-present thatch grass was another force to be reckoned with.Hello, ladies. Which way do we go?Thataway.Many Filipinos are poor, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t hard-working.Your puny fence can’t stop us!A very well-marked trail.A charcoal factory in the woods…The wide-open spaces…At The Great Wall of Barretto.What’s everybody looking at?Ah, our little town.Picture time!Dropped by to say hello to the Rolly family on the way back down. A FB friend saw this photo and told me those are her relatives. She said she used to live with them up there. I’ve always been curious about the mountain life and I’ll be sharing what I find out from her.I have no idea what might be cooking on that tabletop. Credit for creativity, not sure about the functionality.Finally back on flat ground and headed for the On-Home venue at the VFW.The Hash circle in progress.I’m glad you were able to find your way to this week’s Hash post.
Heading out to the Hash in a couple of hours, weather permitting. The Hash ethos includes “rain or shine” and that’s all well and good. But there is a typhoon passing to the north and today’s Hare is Leech My Nuggets–that combo could make for tough going. Anyway, as of now, it’s looking like a go.
So far, so good.
Nothing much else happening around here. Feeling a bit better today, but haven’t had cause to push myself. Yet. We’ll see how I feel when I’m climbing one of those mountains.
Shit. The wind just kicked up and now it’s raining. Hope it’s not here to stay.
I’ve got two hours to decide what I’m going to do.
Well, you gotta laugh I suppose.
I thought this was funny.
Oh, and I grilled some steaks. I think I’m finally getting that searing technique down pat, this one came out just right. Granted, it wasn’t as thick as those big-ass ribeyes I tried last time, but I was happy with the result.
That’s all for now. Check back in tomorrow for the Hash report. Or lack thereof.
There is something not quite right going on in this tired old body. I usually do a longish Sunday stroll, and I was preparing to head at 0800 this morning when I suddenly felt just about every ounce of energy disappear. I laid down on the couch thinking I’d take a short nap to recharge. Woke up two hours later still feeling empty. It’s not a motivation problem I don’t think because I do enjoy my walks. Just feeling light-headed and bleh today for some reason. I really hope this is not a symptom of old age because it really sucks to feel tired. Hopefully, this too shall pass.
I’m guessing some of my regular readers may be speculating that this feeling like shit thing might be related to the time I spend in the bars. I honestly don’t think so. Take last night as an example. I got to Marick’s a little before 5:00 and left before 7:00. I did stop at It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers, but as is my custom I was heading home around 8:00 and in bed at 9:00. I also drink San Miguel Zero (3% alcohol) so I was not really even all that drunk. It is what it is, I guess. For the record, if I fall prey to the worst-case scenario I want to be cremated and have the ashes scattered up on the My Bitch trail. And if there is any kind of wake, have “Time” by the Alan Parsons Project played. Of course, it won’t matter to me if that doesn’t happen–I’ll be dead.
So, about last night. I spent some quality time with girls, played some of my favorite music (they plug into my Spotify), and chatted with the other customer, Eric, who was celebrating his birthday.
Joy introduced me to the new gal, Jane.I thought Joy was looking especially sexy last night.She asked if I had noticed her new eyelashes. I hadn’t, so I took a picture.
When I showed Joy the photos I had taken she didn’t seem impressed with the quality of my camera work. This morning she sent me a better one:
I think she’s a cutie anyway…
And oh yeah, since I’d bought a round of lady drinks, the girls gave me a nice leg massage.
Living the high life!
As I mentioned, I dropped into It Doesn’t Matter on the way home to spend some time with another waitress friend.
She’s much more camera shy than Joy. About 12 years older too. Still, she can hold up her end of a conversation and she has a good sense of humor too. Or at least she pretends that I’m funny. One of those.
Now, to be clear, neither of the bars I visited last night have “take out” available and the girls I drink with are certainly not prostitutes. I don’t normally visit that “type” bar at this stage of my life. What’s been interesting to see, and perhaps it is related to the pandemic somehow, is that Facebook has become a new tool for freelancers. When I get a friend request I check to see if we have any mutual Facebook friends. If there are several, I will usually add them. I had a little bizarre interaction with one of these “friends” over the weekend. It started with a message from someone I’ve never met in person and haven’t really chatted with. She wanted me to accept her sister’s friend request. It was Friday and I was busy with darts, but why not?
Hi sweetie how are
You sent
Doing good. How about you?
Fri 5:37 PM
Madeline
Boring
Fri 7:27 PM
You sent
Okay. We are already friends.
Madeline
Yeah
Madeline
Where are you?
You sent
Barretto
Madeline
Are you busy?
You sent
Going home when I finish eating
Madeline
Can I visit you when you got home?
You sent
Not tonight
Madeline
How about tomorrow?
You sent
I don’t know you. What do you have in mind?
Madeline
Getting horny hehehe
You sent
Ah. I see.
You sent
How much?
Madeline
It’s up to you baby
You sent
I’ll let you know tomorrow then. You are in Subic?
Madeline
Yes
You sent
Okay.
Madeline
See you
Madeline
Take care
Sat 9:12 AM
Madeline
Goodmorning
Madeline
What you doing sweetie?
You sent
doctor appointment this morning…
Madeline
Can I meet this afternoon sweetie
Sat 11:31 AM
Madeline
Are you home already?
Sat 12:39 PM
Madeline
Where are you sweetie
Sat 4:58 PM
Madeline
Hi sweetie are you home
Madeline
I’m horny heheh
Sat 6:07 PM
Madeline
Missed Video Chat6:07
Madeline
Are you home
Madeline
Can I come
Madeline
Missed Video Chat6:08 PMEnter
Madeline
I’m here in barreto
Madeline
Ok
Sat 7:31 PM
Madeline
Still waiting for your replay
10:13 AM
Madeline
Goodmorning
So, that gives you a flavor of how these things go. You see that I’ve been ignoring her for two days now. I think she is getting the hint. Honestly, as much of a horn dog that I am, I really don’t like hooking up with complete strangers. I’d certainly never bring someone I had never met previously to my house. She looks cute enough in her Facebook profile picture, but I just have no interest in her whatsoever. Go figure.
I did, however, initiate a new member into my FWB club. That gives me two active clients, which is about right for me. A couple of times a month keeps me satisfied. I knew the latest one from when she worked in Cheap Charlies and she’s been desperate for some income to feed her kids and pay the bills. I helped her out a few times no strings attached, but the begging pleas only became more frequent. I started to just block her, sending her a message that it was not my responsibility to take care of her family. But I did make the “massage” job offer (which I had done previously) and this time she accepted. Her performance has been adequate thus far, so we shall see how it goes.
And that’s the grim details of how I roll these days. And yeah, I know it is all fake and meaningless, but it helps fill the hours, and I kinda sorta enjoy the company and attention.
Seems to be working so far.
As the good book says, “judge not lest you be judged.” I’m not sure what Buddha would say.
Maybe something along these lines: “Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.” Although it is quite the stretch to say that I’ve lived wisely.
That’s the way I dance with the ladies these days.
Maybe were just shooting stars Needing something to hold on to But each thing we touch seems to vanish Like candles and friends They burn at both ends
Dance, they said Life is only for the moment The light is brief Don’t waste it The taste is sweet so taste it So I said I understand I’m dancing as fast as I can
Well, I was all prepared to do a post about the murder of an expat yesterday with the help of criminal defense attorneys from The Law Offices ff Michael H. Pham in Houston .The early details were pretty gruesome–including child molestation allegations and an ice pick in the head. I even had one of my witty headlines almost worked out; something along the lines of “take your pick and shove it!” Alas, the effort was all for naught because it turns out the rumored homicide did not, in fact, occur. That’s a good thing of course. I didn’t know the guy personally and what I have heard about him wasn’t good–turning people into immigration for visa violations–but a violent death is certainly not warranted for the crime of being an asshole. Allegedly.
Anyway, back to reality. Sometimes it feels like my life is a bit of a joke, and that’s no laughing matter. The reality of it all though is pretty much what my faithful readers see here on a daily basis–I’m just filling in the hours, however comfortably and well. Damn, it’s almost like I’m living one of my favorite Hemingway stories: A Clean Well-Lighted Place. What’s even scarier is that a quick search of the archives reveals that I was writing about this story fifteen years ago after a crazy night in Itaewon. Back then I had a lot more staying power, that’s for sure. I never even make it to midnight now. Anyway, if you want to read the short story, here it is. Or if you prefer, you can watch the story acted out in this YouTube video (less than 15 minutes long, it is a short story after all.)
As long as I am in uploading mode, I got a kick out of this 15 seconds of goodness:
So, I played darts in the singles tournament last night. Threw decently, but was as inconsistent as ever. Faced off against Billy in the winner’s bracket finals and lost a hard-fought match. I usually don’t care, but I hated losing that one because I left the door wide open for her to come back and beat me. When it came time to play my loser’s bracket match, I just conceded the game, took third place money, and left. I don’t recall ever doing that before. I just wasn’t feeling like playing anymore, so I didn’t.
I left Alley Cats and hoofed it over to Sit-n-Bull for some nourishment. The pulled pork sandwich (with coleslaw) was one of the daily specials, so that’s what I had. Delicious as usual. After eating, I caught a trike and headed home. In bed before 9:00 p.m. I guess those Itaewon marathon nights are nothing but a memory now. That’s okay, this is my new life. Such as it is.
Well, I managed to craft a post out of almost nothing. Then again, I’ve got a lot of experience doing that lately. And now, finally, the moment you’ve undoubtedly been waiting for:
Black Rock Mountain climbing to be precise. For some reason, I got it in my head to lead the Friday hiking group on an 8k journey over Black Rock then around and about back to Barretto. The excitement, such as it was, came with the trek down over a sometimes slippery rock surface. Made it without a scratch so that’s my accomplishment for the day.
I also took these photos:
New signage for the subdivision at the entrance on National Highway.A small group of dedicated hikers for today’s adventure.The climb begins with what felt like a thousand steps, although I didn’t actually count. My Fitbit claims I’ve done 55 floors on the day though…Then we walked down a narrow road for a kilometer or so.Met this 80-year-old Irish gent who told us his tale of having his property stolen by his in-laws. Pretty common story here and one of the reasons I don’t want to own anything.Made it to the top!The survivors.And now to get back down alive…Watch your step, Betty! Those rocks can be slippery.Back on flat ground safe and sound.They looked prettier in real life…Back across the river……and through this neighborhood.Finished up on the beach at Mango’s.The traditional end of hike beers and food.
Feel free to Relive the hike here:
https://www.relive.cc/view/v4OGEPwYMmq
That’s my day so far. Later on, I’ll chuck some darts and see where they land. Hopefully on target some of the time.
Another typical day in the life here. It’s been said that no news is good news, but some may argue that no news makes for a boring blog post. Well, more boring than usual I guess I should say. You’ve been warned!
I started my evening by spending some quality time at It Doesn’t Matter with my favorite waitress. Now, I know how things work in the bars but I do think I’m getting a GFE vibe these days. Oh, for those not in the know, GFE is what we call the “girlfriend experience” that can sometimes be purchased with lady drink commissions. So, when you spend enough time and money with a gal it’s possible she’ll get cuddly, laugh at your jokes, and have you believing you are something special. Hey, in the long run it is cheaper and less dangerous than having a real girlfriend. At least that’s been my experience.
For the past couple of months I’ve made a Wednesday habit of buying Korean-style wings at The Pub to take home for dinner. I arrived at The Pub a little after 7:00 p.m. and was surprised to see a large group at one of the dining tables. Generally at this hour, I’ll have the place to myself or be sharing it with one or two other guys. The large table appeared to be four couples, looking to be in their late 40s or early 50s. And they were all WHITE. You very rarely see foreigner women here, and when you do they are usually youngish backpacker types. I couldn’t quite make out the accent to their English from across the room, but they weren’t Yanks. Adding to the mystery, we are still on lockdown here so they couldn’t have been tourists. I don’t know, perhaps they were diplomats or something like that.
Anyway, the relevance of this gathering to me was that they had just ordered their meals before I arrived. I feared that would put me at the back of the queue in the kitchen, so I asked my regular waitress about how long I’d have to wait. She came back and said it would be 45 minutes. Well, the wings are good, but I wasn’t willing to sit around waiting for them that long. I said my goodnight and left, feeling sorry that my consecutive streak of “wingsdays” was coming to an end.
Now what? I briefly considered hoofing it over to Sit-n-Bull, but that was further than I felt like walking. So instead I crossed the highway and popped into Mango’s. Took my usual seat on the waterfront, was greeted by my waiter and Facebook friend Norman, and placed an order for some grilled porkchops. Of course, I got a beer to help kill the time while they were being prepared. A few minutes later Norman returned and said, “Sir John, I’m sorry, but Edmund (the chef) advises that we have sold out of pork chops today.” Well, damn, just my luck. There was nothing else on the menu I wanted to eat last night, so I finished by beer and left.
Back on the highway again and it is now 7:45. I mused to myself that had I been more patient at The Pub, my wings would be almost ready now. So, I shrugged and headed back to the Pub, placed my belated wings order, and had a beer. The group of diners was still there enjoying their meal so at least my wings would be the top priority in the kitchen. As I was waiting, Luke, one of the Hashers from Angeles City, came in and ordered some tacos. We had a nice chat while our food was being prepared. In the “it’s a small world” category, Luke has purchased two lots in Alta Vista almost directly across the street from my current residence. My wings arrived, I paid my tab, said my goodbyes, caught a trike, and was home eating wimgs and kimchi by 8:30.
Yeah, a pretty wild night, wasn’t it? And of course, it being Wednesday, I had done the group hike during the morning hours. A 5K jaunt, leaving from Alta Vista and featuring two moderate climbs. Still they got me breathing heavy, but a mostly pleasant hike. Here are some photos from the trek. (hmm, a juant, a hike, and a trek. No wonder I was so tired!)
Departing from the subdivision in the lower right then up and down the mountain twice, before returning to Alta Vista.Let’s get this show on the road!Commencing the first up.Looking back down at Alta Vista.Pausing for a group shot.Going down for the first time…Heading down to Columban College.The second up proved to be more challenging than the first. It started with a steep concrete sidewalk covered in algae. Even with the handrail it was hard to keep your feet. A couple of the group didn’t.When the sidewalk turned to mossy concrete steps it was only marginally better.Some candy and cookies for the mountain dweller children.The rest of the climb was easier.Regrouping at the top.A mostly pleasant stroll along the ridge.Although the thatch grass was tough to navigate in places.The last down led us here.Guarding the back entrance to Alta Vista?
And that was that. I declare it to have been a good day!
Another “lazy” Tuesday in the books. Did my weekly grocery shopping then spent the afternoon puttering about in the kitchen.
There was chili to prepare……and cornbread muffins to bake.Since I already had the oven warm I whipped up the ingredients for a carrot cake. Even grated the carrots myself.It tasted better than it looks.I did something a little different this time–sliced the cake in half and applied the cream cheese frosting in the middle. It really wasn’t worth the effort taste-wise or aesthetically. Oh well.
I also play darts on Tuesday evening, so I headed out to Alley Cats. We played doubles, and I drew one of the bargirls as my partner. She’s an experienced player, and I’ve seen her throw decent darts in the past, but she was way off her game last night. Sometimes it felt like I was playing alone or she had never touched a dart before. Or both. But that’s the luck of the draw and I’ve had my share of outstanding partners recently, so thems the breaks.
The situation awkward pairing did make for some interesting situations. For example, in our first cricket game, we were way behind–they had everything closed except bulls and we still had three numbers open and were behind on points. It seemed pretty hopeless, but the only way we could possibly win was to put a shitload of darts in the bullseye. And that’s what I proceeded to do, getting two or three every throw. For some reason, our opponents kept throwing for points instead of trying to close out the bull. That kept us in the game and we eventually closed out our open numbers and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Crazy night. I was throwing decent enough to carry my partner and defeat some stronger teams. Still, I was very surprised that we made it to the finals. We couldn’t prevail there, but second place was pretty satisfying given the circumstances.
The night ended on a sour note unrelated to darts, but I’ll save that story for another time. I’m still processing what happened and the way I’m going to move forward. That’s life. At least, that’s my life.
We got it done. Not to perfection or even to my complete satisfaction. I guess you might say that goes with the territory when laying a Hash trail. Sometimes it gets a little Hare-y. Okay, I’ll stop.
It happens that things get lost between what you intend to do as a Hare and what actually happens. We scouted the front half of the trail last Wednesday and had a pretty good idea of where we were going to go. Our efforts on Friday to walk from the endpoint to a logical rendezvous with the front part of the trail were not as successful as we hoped. That meant we were winging it more than I like on Monday morning. We made a wrong turn once and had marked that trail with powder and paper before realizing our error. Did our best to erase the mistake, but I heard from a couple of Hashers they had followed the faux trail. I hate when that happens, but at least they were able to recover and retreat back to the true trail.
The descent we wound up doing was not at all to my liking. Very steep and very slick, and worse yet, it ended up in a creek bed. I hate walking through creek beds. Especially in rainy season. The rocks were covered in algae and slippery as hell. I told my fellow Hares I wasn’t happy with putting the Hashers through what we had done, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was expecting some negative feedback at the Hash circle but I was surprised again. The gung-ho die-hards like Guenter really liked the trail. Leech My Nuggets said he thought it was the best trail of the year. I told him I didn’t think so, how about that going down to the creekbed? He laughed and said, “I was surprised to find that on one of YOUR trails, but I rather it enjoyed it.” I confessed that I had been overruled by my fellow Hares about that route, so the praise belonged to them.
Anyway, all’s well that ends well. No one got hurt and no one was irrevocably lost. Those are my goals as a Hare and they were achieved. Here are some photos to enjoy:
Right at 6K with a challenging climb and a crazy descent.An early start on Monday morning…Let’s get ‘er done!Pubic Head (Scott) did the chalk, manned the camera, and dispensed advice. Blow My Pipe (Jim) dusted the trail with powder. I carried the shredded paper. It’s light. I like it.Up top.Looking back down.The natives were friendly. Mostly. Early in the trail-marking process someone came out and yelled that we were on private property. We were polite but kept on with the business at hand.Flowers along the way.And I enjoyed this “poem”.Fresh goat’s milk.Up the creek without a paddle.The crazy descent ended at this water tank out in the middle of nowhere.Country living. That gal cooking was hotter than the charcoal fire she was tending.The conversation taking place in my head: “Are you sure it will hold me?” Her: “It holds me, doesn’t it?” Me: “Good point!”
Alright, those are the photos taken while we were laying trail. Here are a few taken by the Hashers later while hiking the trail:
A river crossing early on.No one said it was going to be easy…Heading down to the creek. Be careful!It gets better. I promise!These are the only falls I heard about, so that’s good!Back on flat ground, who cares about a rickety bridge?
And a few shots from our On-Home venue at Hunter’s Jo Inn in Calapadayan.
Old fuckers enjoying their beers before the Hash circle.Circle up!Hares and their enablers on the ice! (if you express positive thoughts about the trail, you join with the Hares on the ice)Don’t wear new shoes to the Hash. If you do, you’ll be drinking out of them…It was great to see Tinkerbell (Betty) back after being stuck in Belgium for the past two years.I was honored to be placed on the ice for a second time in recognition of my completing 100 consecutive Hash runs.What else am I going to do? Thank you, COVID for making this possible.And then the sun went down on another Hash Monday.
It’s Hash Monday morning, so I’m posting early. Leaving at 0900 to mark the trail and I doubt I’ll be back home afterward. My thinking now is I’ll get a short time room (and maybe a massage) at our On-Home venue, Hunter’s Jo Inn. More on that tomorrow.
I’ve said before that Barretto, at least for the foreigners living here, is like an amazing retirement community catering to the needs of us oldsters. Of course, those needs may be considered atypical from the stereotypes folks expect of the old and decrepit, but to each his own I suppose. Barretto has much to offer and it is not all about sex and debauchery. This is not to say they aren’t available but for many of us expats that is not the primary attraction.
Last evening was an interesting (to me) example of retired life here and got me thinking about the give and take that makes it work for me. I began my night by popping into the Kitchenette to say my hellos. There were no customers at the moment so I invited the gals from the bar across the street (Alaska) to have dinner on me. They happily accepted.
At least the ones without a mask were smiling…
Next, I moved on up the highway and dropped into Marick’s. Only two girls working and no other customers but me, so I was pretty popular. I was feeling a little hungry, so I ordered up some takeout from the restaurant next door for the three of us.
Good stuff!
I finished my night at Cheap Charlies where a couple of my favorites provided some comforting TLC in the form of a back rub. Very talented hands!
You are not going to find that kind of service provider in your typical American retirement home.
A quiet and relaxing Sunday night. It may not seem like much but it was a pleasant experience. Made the gals happy and they returned the favor. I’d call that a win!
Anyway, that trail isn’t going to mark itself, so I’d best get after it. Naturally, it has started raining just now which will make the task much more difficult. Oh well, nothing I can do about the weather.
Life is good and dying is the last thing I’m going to do. Hopefully not anytime soon.
“Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.”
I always check to make sure I haven’t used a post title previously because I never want to duplicate it. So, I had in mind a sarcastic “what a life” title but was pretty certain that at some point during these past fifteen years of blogging I must have used it. Instead, I tried going with something stupid, “who’d a thunk it” and was surprised that I had just used that header last year. It was kind of interesting in a sad way to read again how things came to an end with Jessa. Coincidentally, today is her birthday and I sent the appropriate greeting via Facebook for which she thanked me.
Oddly enough, when I checked I discovered that I had NOT, in fact, used “what a life” previously. And now I have. What a life, eh? Maybe it isn’t exactly sarcasm, because an exclamation of “what a life!” can connotate both good and bad. Like everyone, I have moments in both realms but most of my time these days seems to be consumed in my meaningless routines and rituals. That’s the life I’ve chosen and I’m not really complaining. I can imagine other lifestyles and places, but I don’t imagine I’d be any happier than I am now. A long way from perfect, but smack dab in the middle of good enough.
I began my Saturday night at the tiny bar called Marick’s. That cute little 23-year-old bargirl was waiting for me. In fact, she had been sending me “where are you?” messages since early in the afternoon. She seems to be a sweet girl, gentle and caring. Sits close and rubs my hands or massages my legs in the manner a loving girlfriend would. It is easy to get lost when I gaze into those big brown eyes and imagine how nice it would be to have a woman who enjoyed taking care of me. Of course, she’s not the one–too young and with two young kids to boot. She’s not much of a talker either. So, we just sit there and enjoy the music and some beers together. There are worse ways to kill an hour or two.
Speaking of music, when I’m there at Marick’s they like to plug into my Spotify playlists (the bar doesn’t have wifi). At one point while I was enjoying the attentions of my bargirl, an old song by the Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) came on. I’d seen them in concert back around 1975 and it was probably the best live rock show I’ve ever experienced. The band was unique in that it featured an acoustic string instrument section backing the vocals and guitar work of Jeff Lynne. And here I was 45 years later hearing it in the Philippines. I couldn’t help but wonder what the 20-year-old me would have thought if he could see the life he’d be living as an old man. Knowing me, I would have said, “go for it, pops!”.
Three more guys arrived and the bar felt uncomfortably crowded, so I paid my tab and headed out into the Saturday night. As I walked up the highway I felt the first drops of rain. Luckily, I was just around the corner from the It Doesn’t Matter bar. I made it inside just before the skies opened up for a downpour accompanied by lightning and thunder.
This is how it looked from my barstool perch.
My favorite waitress was occupied playing pool with another customer, so I spent an hour or so drinking alone, watching the rain, and contemplating my somewhat solitary life. Once Roan was free, she joined me and we shared a couple of beers and our usual banter. If I could put that brain in the other gal’s body, I might have the perfect girlfriend. See how shallow I am?
The rain eventually let up some and I made it an early night. Got up this morning with every intention of doing my standard Sunday stroll. But it didn’t work out that way. I got a couple of kilometers up the highway and just wasn’t feeling it. So, I walked the streets of the Matain barangay instead. As I was going back towards home on the highway I decided to go the back way to Alta Vista to add some distance to my walk. And for the first time ever, I got stopped at the checkpoint as I entered the Santo Tomas barangay.
“Where are you going?” San Isidro. “Why?” I live there. “Let me see your ID.” I gave him my ACR card, which says Alta Vista, barangay Barretto. Although technically my residence is in San Isidro. The checkpoint official looks at it and says “Oh, Alta Vista. This isn’t the way to Alta Vista”. I told him I was taking the back way home. He gave me back my ID, told me to wait, then went and consulted with two police officers. A couple of minutes later he waved me on. How’s that for excitement? I guess they figured that COVID doesn’t know about the back way to Alta Vista.
Took a nap, watched some old episodes of One Step Beyond on my big screen TV (via YouTube), and also saw a video from The Filipina Pea about “10 things all Filipinas say” that often lead to misunderstandings. Heh, I learned a couple of new things to use myself when I talk to the ladies. Here it is:
And that brings you pretty much up to date on where things stand in my world. I’ll leave you a little music from ELO to enjoy before I go:
Yesterday to be precise. I mentioned the scouting hike already, but I’ll share a few photos from that event later in this post. Played darts last night at Alley Cats. A singles tournament, but that’s fine by me. Win or lose it’s on me that way. I did a little of both yesterday.
I finished in third place overall, losing to Nancy twice. She’s a solid player and threw exceptionally well in the tourney. I was inconsistent as usual, but I had moments of brilliance too. In my match against Kevin, I opened with a ton-80 (three triple 20s), the best possible score. And then in the cricket leg, I threw a 9-mark, the best you can do in that game. I’ve thrown a few 180s and 9-marks over the years, but I don’t recall ever having thrown one of each in a single match. Didn’t play well enough to make the finals, but still not a bad night of darts.
After the tourney, I went over to Mango’s. I was hungry for those pork chops, but alas, there were sold out. So I stopped at the Kitchenette and they fried me up a couple of chicken wings. Good enough.
That was my night. Hardly worth posting about, but I’ve never let that stop me. Here are a few pics from my hike:
Heading out the way we will be coming back on Monday’s Hash. Our mission was to find a good way to connect to the portion of the trail we scouted on Wednesday.Dead people stacked up beside the road. Kind of like those mounds in Korea, right Kevin?Our first attempt to get to the top was stymied by a dead end. We had better luck the second time. The view from up there.The up we did (which will be the down on Monday) wasn’t so bad. But that damn grass was painful. Sharp edges that scratched up my legs and arms and left them itchy as hell. I’ll be arguing with my co-Hares that we should find an alternative on Monday.A nice view of Easter Mountain’s ass side.Passing through a village on the way back down.The neighborhood dump. It’s disgusting and probably unhealthy. But if there is no trash pickup from the city, I’m not sure what alternative there is. I’ve seen people burning trash too, but somehow that seems worse.Boats on the river.
Once we reached the highway, a trike pulled up and offered us a ride. We had parked the Hash truck at Hunter’s Jo Inn, the On-Home location for Monday, about 3K away. How much, we asked, and the driver said 50 pesos. Fair enough, so off we went. Upon arrival, I gave the trike driver 50 pesos and he said the fare was 50 pesos each. Bullshit. I went behind the trike to get a picture of his license number and saw that it wasn’t even a registered trike. Anyway, we just ignored his demands and went inside Hunter’s Jo to have a beer with the owner.
And that concludes this historical episode in the journey of Long Time Gone.
…makes you stronger. I don’t know about that, but here I am, alive and kicking!
I guess all that gloom and doom this morning was for naught. I ain’t complaining, mind you. Did some heavy breathing and got soaked with sweat, but nothing unusual on the scouting hike today. Since I’m still alive we can Relive it together:
Fact is, I’m going out with Jim this morning for some additional scouting of the upcoming Hash trail. It would be an overstatement to call it a premonition, but maybe a “bad feeling” is apropos. Not saying anything tragic is bound to happen, but just in case it does, you heard it here first.
I’m not feeling all that good lately. Not sure what that’s about. Some shortness of breath issues–I’ve been getting winded on the inclines during my dog walks here in the neighborhood lately. Also feeling some light-headedness. I’m pooping more frequently and less firmly as well–not diarrhea, but not quite right either. Blood pressure is on the high side this morning at 139/84 and my resting heart rate is an elevated 74 bpm.
I’m functional, but just not quite right. I blew off walking yesterday, that’s also not like me. Wound up with 6,666 total steps on the day. I’m choosing not to take that as a beastly warning. I did get a nice massage, although the happy ending left me breathless. I’m experiencing some congestion as well. For whatever reason, my nebulizer has chosen this moment in time to stop functioning. Guess I’ll just have to rely on my inhaler to clear the lungs.
So, that’s my state of being as I prepare to head for the hills this morning. What’s the worst that could happen? At least I’m not the unfortunate individual who was basking in the relative safety of this Angeles City convenience store when all of the sudden this happened:
What a way to go.
Just in case, my “last” night was a good one.
Spent some time with this lovely lady who does a good job pretending I’m someone special.
And my “last” supper at The Pub:
My poor photography was insufficient to capture the full flavor of this delicious hamburger.
I’m not really a big burger fan these days, but John Kim posted about what goes into making this one and I couldn’t resist:
Hamburger upgrade. I’ve been buying a lot of meat these days, thanks to you guys, having buying power, I am able to buy good meat at a reasonable price now.We’d like to appreciate you all by upgrading our burger to 100% USDA CHOICE or Higher grade of meat. We’re not using leftover or trimming, but all steak quality meat from newly opened bag each time.It may change depends on our inventory level, but as of today burger patty, Oyster Blade steak and Ribeye was used for the flavor and tenderness, and navel end brisket was used to add the fat content. Still the same price with fries included. Hard to believe? Ask any of my kitchen staff. Many of you guys know Mae. She should tell you. Taste the difference today at The Pub.
So, there you have it. Rent and helpers have been paid so I’m not indebted to anyone. It appears to be a beautiful morning for a hike. What a way to go!
Been nice knowing you! Or should I say, “I’ll be back”?
