Feedback from yesterday’s trail was mostly positive, although we could have done better marking in a couple of places where the path was unclear. Hey, nobody’s perfect! I’ll share the pictures that others took along with a few from me taken while laying the powder.
This an earlier-than-normal post today because I’ve got a Hash trail to mark this morning. I prefer laying the powder the day before, but my co-Hare was unavailable yesterday, so here we go. We’ve got one or two hill options available, so hopefully, the kennel will be satisfied.
Here’s a low for you–Mary told me she had posted in one of the Barretto Facebook groups that she was looking for part-time work cleaning houses. Some dude responded with this message:
Mary reported him to the group administrator, so hopefully, this guy gets banned.
Speaking of Facebook, I hadn’t heard from Nerissa for a couple of days, so I went to send her a message only to discover she had blocked me on Messenger and unfriended me on Facebook. I have no idea why; everything was fine the last time I saw her on Friday night. I am thinking that maybe she saw me with Mary on Saturday evening during our rooftop visit at BarCelona.
I’ll try to stop in at CC tomorrow and see what’s up with her.
I guess to finish this post on a high note; I can show the Hideaway feeding photos from last night.
While I was busy imbibing at Hideaway, I got a message from Virginia that she had returned to work at Alaska Club. I told her I’d stop by for a nightcap later. And I’m a man of my (drunken) word!
Heh, I was just thinking of the incongruity of having to go to Alaska to see Virginia. Hideaway is next door to Arizona, so it makes for a long trip!
And that’s the state of things this morning.
Here’s a quick post about My Date With Mary.
As I’ve mentioned, one of the things I find most attractive about Mary is she is a smart girl. Of course, smart girls tend to think for themselves and can sometimes be very willful. So, once Mary has her mind made up, there’s no changing it. She had it in her mind that she was going to spend the night with me. What could I do?
I suggested we start with some drinks, then have dinner, and I’d bring her home after. Those terms were acceptable to her, so we agreed to meet on the rooftop at BarCelona at 5:00 p.m. I chose BarCelona because it has some nice views and also because it is a bar I don’t frequent regularly…i.e., I wouldn’t have to deal with the prying eyes of one of my regular bargirls and any jealousy that may ensue.
Mary arrived about fifteen minutes late, which is what is known as “Filipina time.” In her defense, she was coming from Kalaklan, and catching a Jeepney on the highway at that time of day can be a pain as many are filled with passengers coming home from work in Olongapo City. I was on my second drink when she entered the bar.
I was a little surprised when Mary told me this was only the second time she had been inside a bar–the first being when I took her to Alaska Club for the SOB a couple of weeks ago. She ordered water and a coke, which is her choice, and I’m quite capable of drinking enough for the two of us.
We had some chit-chat and ordered a second round of drinks. I asked Mary where she would like to eat dinner, and she said, “I want the chicken fingers at Sit-n-Bull. Alrighty, then. We’ll save those ribeyes at John’s place for another time. Mary has a schoolmate who works at Wet Spot, and Sit-n-Bull delivers to Wet Spot, so I suggested we go there and visit her friend. Mary was up for that idea, and Wet Spot was right downstairs from us, so off we went. That makes three bars for Mary now if you are keeping score.
We grabbed an open table and settled in, only to discover that Mary’s friend wasn’t working, which is very unusual for a Saturday night. Oh, well. My regular waitress came and greeted us and took our drink orders. Mary had another soft drink, I had more gin and soda, and I also bought mywaitress a drink. The Sit-n-Bull waitress came by with a menu, and we ordered some grub. I did a roast beef dip, Mary got her chicken fingers (plus an order to go), and I bought a pizza for the waitresses to share.
And then things get a little fuzzy. I kept drinking; the manager, Bret, sent me over a drink on the house. A bit later, owner Dave came in and bought me a drink too. Mevelyn, the cute little dancer I barfined a while back for “cuddling only,” was onstage, and Mary thought she looked like a girl from her school, so I called her down to join us. It wasn’t the same girl Mary knew, but I got her a drink anyway. It turns out she is moving back home to the province next week. Good luck to you, sweetie.
Mary and my waitress asked if they could do tequila shots, and who was I to say no? Even if they do cost 200 pesos a pop. I think they both had two, but by now, I was over my gin capacity and in no condition to count. But it wasn’t long afterward that Mary and I were in a trike heading home.
I made us a smoothie (banana, strawberry, mango, and pineapple), and we hit the hay shortly after. Well, rolled in it. I know I woke up with a sweet young thing next to me, and it was very nice for a change to have a warm body sharing my bed.
Mary joined me on the dog walk then I made us some breakfast–cheese quesadilla, tuna salad (as requested by my guest), tortilla chips, and salsa. By all appearances (disappearances?), she enjoyed her morning meal.
Mary is crazy about the salsa I use, so I gave her a jar to bring home.
And then it was time to end our time together. I offered to walk her home to Kalaklan (about 4K up the highway), but she declined, saying she preferred the Jeepney. I walked with her out of the neighborhood, spotted a trike, and sent her home in style.
As I remember your eyes Were bluer than robin's eggs My poetry was lousy you said Where are you calling from? A booth in the midwest Ten years ago I bought you some cufflinks You brought me something We both know what memories can bring They bring diamonds and rust
Speaking of lousy poetry, I’ve been rummaging some more in my memory box, and by golly, I’ve got some doozies!
That yellow envelope contains all the letters I had mailed to my soul mate Linda over the years (this was before email became a thing, if you can imagine that). I didn’t know she had kept them until she mailed them back to me shortly before she succumbed to cancer. I will confess to a fair amount of cowardice because I haven’t yet found the strength to read what I wrote to her all those years ago. The pain of losing her is still strong in my heart and soul. But, I seem to be rediscovering the person of my youth, and I’ll want to explore that portion of my life as well. So, stay tuned.
So, the poems I’m sharing today seem to be about unrequited love (hmm, sounds familiar) and my strong anti-war positions held during my high school years. It appears that being unlucky at love has always been in my genes. With that other thing in my jeans being a contributing factor. My views on the war in Vietnam have moderated quite a lot over the years. Now, I never disrespected the soldiers who served there (I disagreed with that spitting on returning vets in airports even in my most extreme days), but I have a better understanding of why we were there now and what we were fighting for. Well, there is the one about murdering an NCO, but it was meant as sarcasm. I still believe we were on a fool’s mission, and I think that if you are going to commit soldiers to sacrifice their lives, we should have gone “all-in” for victory. Anyway, that’s all history, but I wanted to provide some context for the poems.
Let’s do love first, shall we?
I warned you! I’m not sure of the timing on this one or who I was longing for, but if I had to guess, it would be Gail Weed around 1974.
I’ll decipher those hieroglyphics above for you:
Sometimes the emptiness seems More than I can stand I try to be strong and sure But I can't always be that man So when these lonely feelings Become too much to bear I close my eyes and think of you I know you're always there You'll be so understanding You won't let me sink too low And even when the words don't come It seems somehow you know It won't matter what I'm thinking It won't matter what I feel I'll see your smile and hear your voice And I'll know our love is real So I guess I'm never really alone Even though I feel that way I'll just drift back into my memories And you won't seem so far away I'll hold you close and hear you laugh Then gaze at those loving eyes I'll know inside that everything's right And my love won't have to hide You know, it seems to me right now That this pain is all in my mind 'Cause my heart is so full of love for you And I know it's just a matter of time Till I'll open my eyes and you'll be there Then I won't have to pretend You'll be everything I dreamed you'd be My woman, my lover, my friend
Again, I’m not sure of this timing, but I suspect it may have been written for KaraLynne Pope. It didn’t change her mind.
The year I was scheduled to be drafted was when the war and draft ended. I can’t say my poetry had anything to do with that, but here’s a sample:
That was definitely written in high school; the war ended my senior year. If the rhyme seems off, it is because I pronounced it Viet-Namb, not Viet-Nomb.
Here’s another in the same vein:
Okay, I was a bleeding heart that wouldn’t or couldn’t see the big picture.
And then there is this gem:
Literati was our high school journal that published the “best” creative writing from the student body. I don’t think I submitted this poem; if I did, it wasn’t chosen for inclusion.
Thank you for your indulgence. There will be more to come as I bring these 50-year-old efforts back to life. And yes, I realize I should probably have let them rest in peace in the twentieth century.
Now you're telling me You're not nostalgic Then give me another word for it You who are so good with words And at keeping things vague Because I need some of that vagueness now It's all come back too clearly Yes I loved you dearly And if you're offering me diamonds and rust I've already paid
My co-Hare and I did some scouting yesterday and pretty much finalized our trail for Monday’s Hash. We’ll go back out in the morning and put chalk on the trees and powder on the ground for the Kennel to follow.
That’s the trail; you can Relive the scouting adventure here:
Now, about my Friday night. I did decide to skip the SOB. Back in the old days (pre-scamdemic), I only attended the SOB once a month or so. When the SOB resumed last year, I went every week as a show of support and appreciation to the sponsoring bars. Lately, they have had more attendees than they can accommodate, so I can take a break and give my seat to someone else to watch the show.
I started out at Cheap Charlies, where I enjoyed some facetime with Nerissa. She’s definitely not the typical bargirl type, at least not yet. I need to decide if I want to take the next step toward a potential relationship. As with Mary, I’m just not sure I want to give up my freedom from drama and my ability to do as I please. I know some positives come with having a girlfriend, too, but damn, why risk it?
After I left Cheap Charlies, I was feeling a little hungry. Running through the options as I walked down the highway, I decided to pay Thumbstar a visit. It’s rare for me to patronize this venue for various reasons, but their shwarma shop was enough motivation to overcome them. Plus, a girl I met at Queen Victoria several months ago messaged me that she was working there now, so it seemed appropriate to pay her a visit too.
It was weird being in Thumbstar on a Friday night during the SOB. Thumbstar briefly was a participating bar in the SOB, but because of some disagreement over something, pulled out. And now Thumbstar’s management is engaging in a Bar Wars tactic–a competing event on Fridays they call the SOP. It’s ridiculous and, frankly, one of the reasons I don’t visit this bar very often, but by chance, here I was, experiencing my first-ever SOP. It’s nothing like the real thing, though. No dance competition, just the regular Thumbstar crew.
When I arrived, I saw Che, the former Queen Vic waitress, on stage dancing. So, I called her down to join me. She tried to order a bottled beer double lady drink for a whopping 350 pesos, but I put a stop to that, and she settled for a more reasonably priced single drink. I did buy her two (or maybe more), so it’s not so much the money as it is the principle. My waitress had difficulty understanding my drink order (a shot of gin in a tall glass and a can of soda water on the side). Seems simple to me, but it was confusing to her, and I admit I got a little frustrated and cranky with her. Felt wrong about being a grumpy old man, so I bought her a drink too.
The best part of the SOP is that drinks AND food are all buy one get one free. So, I got two chicken shwarmas for the price of one. Che wanted chicken, so the second order went to our waitress. The waitress wanted fries, so we shared those as well. The way I drink, every order is a double–the shot of gin and the can of soda. So, last night at least I could get my soda water for free.
And in a first for me, the waitress picked up my phone from the table and took a selfie without being asked (or asking permission). I didn’t care, of course, but joked that my wife would be very angry when she saw it. That made her nervous until I explained I was kidding.
And then a two-week millionaire (the name we expats use for free-spending tourists) came in and called most of the dancers down from the stage to join him at his table. I snuck a picture of his bounty and their booties.
I have to admit; I had a better time at Thumbstar than I expected I would. I decided to make Queen Victoria my nightcap destination, and I appeared to be the only customer in the bar. No idea how they stay in business, especially when they were paying a live band to perform with no audience. Anyway, I was joined at the bar by two friendly waitresses, and I enjoyed sharing a drink with them to end my night on the town.
And now it seems I have a dinner date with Mary tonight. There’s just no telling that girl no.
Oh, I almost forgot. I came across this post of mine from 2009, back in the days this blog has some substance. I found it especially interesting given what’s been going of late with the media covering up the sins of our government rather than reporting them to the people. Our founders believe a free press was the “fourth estate” that would help preserve our freedoms. Instead, they are facilitating their destruction.
My life consists of daily routines, but sometimes I change things up just to keep it interesting. Yesterday, instead of doing my regular Thursday solo walk, I did my standard Saturday walk. Talk about living life on the edge! And for the third Thursday in a row, I paid a visit to the Kokomo’s floating bar on Baloy. Hmm, I guess that qualifies as a new routine!
I stayed aboard for a couple of hours, just relaxing and enjoying the vibe. Along with my gin and sodas.
.Once I was back ashore, I decided some food would be the next order of business. Johan’s has a new owner and kitchen operation, so I popped in to give them a try. My friendly waitress greeted me by name, even though I’m rarely a customer here. She said she heard I was in her neighborhood handing out cookies on Wednesday, and she didn’t get any. Next time, I told her. Then one of the pool players there asked how my nephew Joshua was doing (Josh had stayed here during his visit). Say what you will about small-town living, but it does make you feel at home.
Anyway, I like the new menu better than the old one. A lot of these beach resorts will have 50+ options, and it always makes me wonder how any chef could learn to make all of them proficiently. I also wonder how you can keep all those ingredients from going bad. I much prefer a limited menu where I know all the items will be fresh and tasty. Johan’s new menu has fewer items, and if the quality of my first selection is any indication, all are going to be well prepared.
I walked Baloy Beach road in the dark back to the highway and popped into Snackbar for my nightcap. Naturally, I wound up buying my four favorites working there a lady drink before I departed.
And now it’s another Friday night. Not sure if I’m going to make the SOB or not. Had a long hike today (over 8K with two hills), scouting some more for Monday’s Hash trail. I think we’ve come up with a good one. I’ll share more on that tomorrow.
Onward!
I got drafted to be one of the Hares for the Hash next week. Only one other person showed up for the Wednesday Walkers group hike, so I drafted him to help me scout a trail.
The On-Home venue next week is Da’Kudos on Baloy Beach. I used always to enjoy walking the river bank to Baloy, but someone blocked access a couple of years ago. I wanted to see if anything had changed recently, so off we went. Before we reached the cutoff to the Baloy road, a woman said, “you can’t get through there, it’s closed.” Damn. But then she told us, “you can come this way” and led us through her yard and pointed to a path leading to the road. I thanked her gave her some cookies and asked if we could have a group come this way on Monday and she said that would be fine. So, we’ll have something new next week at least.
Once we were on Baloy I suggested we do my idea for the trail in reverse and that worked out fine. My co-Hare is going to add a loop with another climb (my trail only has one hill) so the die-hards will be happy. We’ll finalize our plans this weekend and mark the trail on Sunday or Monday morning.
I baked a carrot cake for the Hideaway feeding last night. Actually, I added raisins to the recipe, so it was technically a carrot-raisin cake I guess. The girls went crazy for it and it disappeared quickly. I got lazy and sent Joy out to buy whatever food the girls wanted. She came back with fried chicken and some pancit, a Filipino noodle dish, and that was popular with the girls too.
Eating, drinking, and some pool filled the hours at Hideaway. It took Joy three games to beat me twice this time, so I guess that shows some improvement on my part. Griff, the manager, is trying to recruit me for a new dart league team, but I’m really not sure I want to get back into that routine. We’ll see if the bug to play bites me again.
Did my nightcap at Wet Spot, then brought home some chicken fingers and a slice of pecan pie from Sit-n-Bowl. Went to bed fat and happy.
Another week, another cart of groceries. I changed things up a little this time by visiting both of the large supermarkets on the old Navy base. Sometimes Pure Gold has items in stock I can’t find at Royal, so I’ll pop in there every couple of months for a look around. Found some things on sale, but nothing I can’t get elsewhere. I’ll check back in May.
It was my friend Nerissa’s birthday yesterday, and I asked if she had any plans. Alas, she said she had to work because, on Tuesday, the RSL (the Australian version of the VFW) comes in mass to Cheap Charlies, so none of the girls can take off work. It’s too bad she had to work; I was hoping to take her out for a birthday dinner. The RSL are good blokes, but they fill the bar up when they are there, and it gets a bit loud and uncomfortable for an outsider. So, I tend to avoid CC on Tuesdays.
Still, I wanted to do something for Nerissa on her special day, so I baked up a batch of brownies and slipped 500 pesos in a red envelope for her. I arrived at Cheap Charlies around 4:30 and was relieved to see the invasion of the RSL hadn’t started yet. As I walked through the door, I saw Nerissa’s smiling face–as she drank a bottled beer with a customer. Well, that’s her job, and I get that it is first come, first served with the girls, as it should be. My problem was that it seemed awkward and rude to interrupt her interaction with her benefactor by presenting my gifts. So, I sat on the other side of the bar to wait things out, occasionally looking over my shoulder to check on her progress. I was soon besieged by two other bar girls and naturally treated them to the drinks they were craving.
SINGLE lady drinks. I never knowingly buy a double lady drink, which in Cheap Charlies is a bottled drink. I’m not sure why it is, but paying 250 pesos for a bottle of beer just irks me somehow. It’s not really even about the money; I bought my girls two 130 pesos single drinks each, but just the thought of paying more than three times the customer price for a “double” drink feels like a scam to me. Now, I’ve had guys tell me that it takes twice as long for the girl to finish a bottle of beer than it does a mixed drink, so it saves them money in the long run. Maybe so, but I don’t buy double drinks as a matter of principle. One girl told me they get a 120 peso commission on a double and 80 pesos for a single drink. So, my two drinks are better than a double attitude is a good deal for them.
And then the RSL guys started arriving in force. I glanced at Nerissa; she was just starting another bottled (double) drink, which meant her customer wouldn’t leave anytime soon. So, I paid my tab, tipped my company, and prepared to leave. I took the brownies and envelope and gave them to another gal I know and trust and asked her to get them to Nerissa when she was free. Nerissa called out, “thanks for coming!” as I departed.
When I woke up this morning, I saw a message from Nerissa (the girls can’t use their phones during working hours):
Thank you for a delicious brownies and for your visit john.. You are so sweet… I like u a lot..my birthday is complete because of you
You are most welcome, Nerissa.
I treated myself to a Sit-n-Bull meal, had a couple more drinks at The Green Room, and finished my night cuddling some with Jenn at Whiskey Girl. Once again, I was in bed before 9:00. I’ve become such an old man, it seems.
Facebook did remind me of some relatively younger days during my Seoul life with my buddy Duke:
And I just now received a message from one of my female Facebook “friends” I’ve never met before in person:
Hello John when I can taste your cock
Um, most likely never, but thanks for asking.
What a life I have here, eh?
Half a trail is better than none, I suppose. And while I avoided a couple of hills, my trail, including the distance gained when I walked to the start from my house, was a respectable 8K.
When the Hash was over, I walked back to Barretto and stopped at Snackbar for my nightcap. It was nice to visit with one of my old favorites there, Heidee, again. During our conversation, she asked me how my girlfriend was doing. I was surprised and told her I didn’t have a girlfriend, then asked what made her think I did. Heidee said to me that Lydell and another Snackbar waitress saw a girl on the Jeepney, and she had a keychain with my picture on it.
A friend had gifted me several of those key chains, and I gave them away to some young women I know. I’m unsure who it was on the Jeepney, but she wasn’t my girlfriend. This is just another example of how everyone *thinks* they know your business in this little town. Kinda scary, in a way.
This provides a good segway to me telling about some edits to yesterday’s post. I had revealed some private and personal information about someone I know, and a regular reader commented that I was wrong to do so. When I took a step back and looked at it again, I realized he was right to call me out on it. It was not my intention to cause anyone pain or shame, but if the information that I shared came back to her, she would likely be devastated. No excuses; I just wasn’t thinking about the potential repercussions. I appreciate that thanks to this reader, I was able to make the edits shortly after publishing the post, and hopefully, no damage was done.
I tend to forget that this blog isn’t a personal diary and that what I share has a potentially larger audience than I imagine. Perhaps some with bad intentions. Like that Dick who tried to use my sketchy history with love (i.e., four marriages) to undermine my relationship with a woman I cared about. You’d think I’d have learned by now.
Anyway, I’ll try and do better in the future. I have taken to changing the names of some of the people I write about here. Going forward, I’ll keep in mind that some things may be best left unsaid. But don’t worry, dear readers; I’m quite sure that I’ll continue to serve as a bad example.
Mary wanted to come over and have lunch with me yesterday. I didn’t really have anything on hand to prepare a proper lunch and suggested we meet up at a restaurant instead. But Mary insisted that anything would be fine, and so I relented. She arrived shortly after noon, and I served cheese nachos with salsa and tuna salad for our meal. She seemed to enjoy it.
After lunch, we had dessert in the bedroom and then a nap in each other’s arms. It felt nice holding her. Given what Mary has been through, I don’t think I’ll suggest being her “Sugar Daddy.” Still, I’ve told her I’m willing to support her continued education and encouraged her to prioritize her studies over work (she’s been looking for a job as a housekeeper). I gave her some cash to pay expenses for the semester that starts today.
Around 4:00, I walked Mary down to the highway, where she caught a Jeepney for her home in Olongapo City. Then I headed to Jewel Cafe to order some grub for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway Bar. I like Jewel for its reasonable prices and that they offer free delivery–I appreciate not having to sit around waiting on my order. I did go a little overboard, though, as my food bill was around 2000 pesos.
I had a few drinks, bought a few, played some pool (Joy kicked my ass again!), then I said good night and headed on up the highway.
My Fitbit says I was asleep at 8:30. I’m such a lightweight these days. Well, maybe lightweight is the wrong word. At yesterday’s weigh-in, I was dishearted to see I had GAINED a half pound last week. Hopefully, that was an aberration.
Facebook memories provided a glimpse of how I was looking in years gone by:
My internet time also revealed this article listing eleven Hollywood movies that were filmed here in the Philippines. I’d heard of some of them, most famously Apocolypse Now, which was filmed nearby. Others I had no clue about. It might be fun to give some of them a watch and see if there is anything I recognize.
And here it is, Hash Monday once again. Scott is making his return from a broken ankle today on a modified and shortened version of the Hare’s trail. I’m going to join him so he won’t be out there alone. Truthfully, I was debating whether I wanted to do a long trail that is starting all the way out in Subic town. When I saw what Scott had in mind as an alternative, I liked it. I will walk the 3K to the start of Scott’s trail to add some distance to today’s effort.
Full report on how it goes tomorrow.
Just going with the flow. When you don’t have a plan, everything goes as planned.
I started out at It Doesn’t Matter. Thought I might run into someone I know there, but the place was pretty much dead. Even so, when my glass was empty and no waitress could be bothered to come out to check on me, I went inside, paid my tab, and left.
I was feeling a little hungry and wanted to check on John, so I headed up the road to his place. I didn’t see him when I first arrived because he was sprawled out on his recliner behind the bar. I did ask how he was doing later, and he shrugged and said, “at least I’m still alive.” I told him that’s a good thing and to keep fighting. He wasn’t looking so good, though.
Since I was making a semi-rare visit to John’s, I figured I’d order some take-out for the girls at Hideaway, conveniently located almost directly across the highway.
Some drinkin’ and dancin’ and singin’ along with my favorites. Like this one:
I finished the evening at Wet Spot and had a pleasant time interacting with the boss at the VIP table.
Nothing much else to write about today. Mary says she’s coming for lunch, so we’ll see how that goes. Tomorrow, then.
I believe in the long history of LTG, this is the first time I’ve scanned a document and then uploaded the PDF to a post. I wasn’t sure it would even work, and I won’t know if the copy is readable until I publish it. So, consider this an experiment.
Anyway, from deep in the memory box, this is something I wrote as a sophomore in a high school English course. Nothing special about it, although it does demonstrate that I’ve been consistently atrocious in grammar, spelling, and punctuation throughout my life. Now, this is a typewritten document, and I’m sure some errors are, in fact, typos, but still, it demonstrates that I was always better at content than mechanics. You can see the teacher used a lot of red ink on my work. Hard to remember how rough we had it back in the days before automatic spellcheck.
I’m still hoping that “heaven” turns out to be a do-over life. Obviously, I’d still make the same grammatical errors, but I’d have a lot more fun if I knew then what I know now.
UPDATE: Weird; when I publish, the document shows upside down. It’s easy to flip using the rotation key at the top of the PDF box, but I don’t know why it does that.
UPDATE II: Hmm, it is also too small to read, at least for me. If anyone has suggestions on how to better upload documents like this one, please let me know in the comments.
A comment on yesterday’s post really triggered some memories. Nate’s remark was simply, “A Clean Well-Lighted Pace.” That’s a short short story by Ernest Hemingway. About a five-minute read, so check out the link if you haven’t read it before. The irony of Nate thinking about that story when reading my post isn’t lost on me. I had to write a paper on that story in a college literature course sometime last century, and I found it moving even as a young man. And now, here I am in old age, practically living it.
And the coincidences continue. I did a quick search of my blog archives and saw I had written a post back in 2006 entitled “A clean well-lighted place.” That one was about a pretty wild night out on the town early in my Itaewon life. It brought back a flood of memories of long-gone friends. I am happy to report that one of the “stars” of that post, June, has been happily married to an American Air Force NCO and is the mother of a sweet daughter. How’s that for a happy ending?
Back here in present times, I took a break from the SOB last night and instead hung out in my version of a clean, well-lighted place–Cheap Charlies. But unlike the Hemingway character, I wasn’t sitting alone.
Something also happened in the bar last night that is very rarely seen. A big spender rang the bell. Okay, that happens pretty frequently, but a bell ring usually just provides a drink for the working girls. This guy bought drinks for everyone in the house! No idea how much that act set him back, but he is definitely not a cheap Charlie! He also provided some entertainment with a nifty trick he did with the lady drinks:
I had such a good time that I just stayed at Cheap Charlies and didn’t do my usual bar crawl, although I did stop for a nightcap at Whiskey Girl on the way home.
That was my night; my morning was equally pleasant, featuring a hike with the Friday group.
I’d say my life here is better than nothing!
What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread, It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.
I continue to fill my time in the usual ways, walking and drinking being the bookends, with blogging and napping occupying the space in between. I used to feel like I was wasting what was left of my life by not engaging in more meaningful activities during my retirement years, but lately, I’ve come to accept that I’m in my comfort zone, and if this is all there is, then that will be enough. That’s not to say I’m not receptive to any opportunities to change my life that may come along, but in the meantime, I won’t lament the things I don’t have. I’ve actually come to appreciate the value of my solitary life, boring though it may be. There are worse things than being alone, and I’m not convinced that the relationship I’ve craved in my imagination is worth the drama that seems inherent when you open your heart to another.
That’s my initial thinking, anyway. As Joni Mitchell sang all those years ago, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone…” We’ll see if any of the women currently vying for my attention are able to change my mind.
When it was time for my evening entertainment, I took a walk out to Baloy Beach.
In its previous iteration, the food delivered on board the floating bar came from Treasure Island. This year, the menu was from Lagoon. It’s okay, but not one of my favorites. So, instead of eating on the floater, I went to Treasure Island when I disembarked.
After my meal, I walked back to the highway and stopped at Snackbar for my nightcap. Haven’t been there in a while; there is too much drama with some of the staff. Last night was fine, though. Even Lydell, the gal I dated a couple of times, was sweet to me. She surprised me by playing “Cotton Eye Joe” and inviting me to do some country swing dancing with her. It was actually quite fun, and she earned herself a couple of lady drinks.
And then, it was time to go home, so I grabbed a trike. Made me a smoothie and then hit the sack. Fitbit says I was asleep at 8:30. That’s the way this old man rolls these days.
As I mentioned yesterday, my gal pal Nerissa suggested we spend some time getting to know one another better by visiting historical sites together. When she suggested Bataan, I was all in–it’s an area I’ve always wanted to see. I was impressed with just how beautiful the parts we visited were.
I left it up to Nerissa to pick the destination; she wanted to see Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar. I’d never heard of it before, but I was ready for something new, so we were off.
So, we went inside to pay the entrance fee, and we were told the guided tour, including lunch, was 2500 pesos PER PERSON. That’s a hundred dollars for us both. That’s Disneyland pricing. Nerissa was as shocked as I was and asked how much for us just to walk around and look on our own. Not an option–guided tour only. I told Nerissa that was a non-starter for me–not worth the price, and I didn’t bring that much cash (I only carry 5000 with me most of the time). She agreed it was a ripoff, so we departed without seeing much more than what’s in the pictures above.
I was hoping to see some sites related to the Bataan Death March. Bagac, the town we were in, was one of the starting locations of the march. As we drove along the highway, we’d periodically see these markers:
I told Nerissa another trip to Bataan was in our future, but this time I’d do better research and find more suitable historical sites to visit. She agreed that’s what we should do.
Still, driving through the unfamiliar countryside was pleasant, and I was enjoying Bataan’s rural vibe. So, it wasn’t really a wasted trip.
One of the last battles was fought here before the retreat from Bataan to Corregidor. Today, it is a shrine dedicated to Filipino and American soldiers who died during the war.
We returned to Barretto late afternoon, and I was a little tuckered out. Dropped Nerissa off and headed home for some rest. I did find the energy to visit Hideaway for the Wednesday feeding.
I didn’t stay out late, and I have the evidence to prove it.
Still, it was a good day. I’ve got lots of things to think about and figure out my next moves. More on that another time. I do believe I’ll spend some time reflecting on the floating bar on Baloy this evening.
A fruitful last day of the month included getting an extension on my tourist visa for another sixty days in paradise. I also completed my weekly grocery shopping excursion at the Royal supermarket.
In other news, a young woman messaged me and said she’d like to get to know me better. She suggested exploring some historic sites in the neighboring province. I was up for that and have arranged for my driver to take us to Bataan today to have a look around.
I also heard from the teenager I’ve been dating. It seems her child is ill with dengue and asthma and needs some medical care. I’ll give her credit; she at least asked me in the proper way: “I know you are not responsible for taking care of my son, but if you could help me out today, I promise I’ll work to repay you.” I wired 4000 pesos to her and haven’t heard from her since. I hope everything is okay.
I made some crockpot chili and baked some cornbread muffins to go with it. Then it dawned on me that my Bataan excursion may preclude me from doing my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway bar. So, I packed up my kitchen work and carried it into town.
It wasn’t the most pleasant ambiance at Hideaway last night. A group of guys were there and had almost all the gals tabled and were plying them with drinks. Nothing wrong with that; that’s why the gals are there. What bothered me was that the girls were screaming and shouting as they enjoyed themselves. I couldn’t hear the music or talk over their noisemaking. To escape, I took Joy down to the pool table area and played a couple of games. She proceeded to kick my ass, but I have to give her credit; she made some really good shots.
The two-week millionaires eventually left, and things quieted down. I had a couple more drinks, then headed out myself. I decided to use my “buy a lady drink, get two customer drinks” coupon at Hot Zone. The first order of business was to determine who would be the beneficiary of my lady drink. I assumed it would be my waitress, but then the mamasan also appeared at my table. I told the girls to decide between them, and of course, the waitress deferred to her boss. And I, of course, wasn’t going to make her go without, so I wound up buying two lady drinks. That’s the magic of those coupons–what I think will be a good deal for me winds up costing me extra in the end. Oh, well, it’s only money.
Despite having had more than enough to drink, I wasn’t done quite yet. I walked on up the road to Wet Spot for my nightcap. I had another coupon, this one for a “free upgrade” on a Sit-n-Bull pizza from medium to large. I guess I was in a feeding frenzy because I bought one for the Wet Spot girls to share.
I think I mentioned that one of Mary’s schoolmate friends works as a dancer at Wet Spot. I had actually noticed her before I met Mary because there was just something exotic about her looks.
After paying for the pizza and some drinks for the lass above, my wallet was out of gas (I usually only bring 5000 pesos when I go out, just in case something stupid happens). So, I said goodnight and triked on home.
When I woke up this morning, it was March. I’ll start the month off with a fresh face in some new places. I may not have a clue about what tomorrow will bring, but that just adds to the adventure.
