I did my weekly grocery shopping at Royal yesterday, but I wasn’t royalty. Yes, I had lost my crown. Well, not technically lost; it had fallen off while I was flossing. At least I didn’t swallow it. So, after shopping, I visited my dentist. The crown isn’t in the best of shape, and the stub of my tooth doesn’t provide much room for grounding, but Dr. Barrera agreed to reattach it and see what happens. So, I left forty-five minutes later with a freshly glued crown, feeling like a king again. Then I took a 5K stroll amongst the peasants to celebrate having one less hole in my head.
After the usual R&R at home, the gal and me did our Tuesday on Baloy Beach thing.
So, they’ve hired a bunch of new girls, some of them quite attractive. Whenever an unattached male came aboard, the girls swarmed him like hungry mosquitos. But they were not overly aggressive and graciously accepted the “no thank you” response. The music was loud, but the playlist was good. I reckon I can handle my once-a-week visits here satisfactorily. The views make it all worthwhile.
When it was time to eat, we went ashore and ordered dinner at Treasure Island.
A bit of a hiccup on the way home. The peanut vendor I have helped out occasionally messaged that he was unable to restock his peanut tray because all his funds had been used for medical expenses. Well, I respect the fact that Emmanuel works hard selling his wares in the bars of Barretto rather than resorting to begging on the streets. So, I agreed to help him out and told him to meet me at 7-Eleven at 7:30. I had the trike driver stop there on our way home, but there was no Emmanuel. He had messaged earlier that he was on his way, so we paid the trike and waited for him at SnackBar. He got there about ten minutes late, and I lit into him. He said he had walked from his home in Subic, and I gruffly said that he should have left earlier. I told him it was extremely rude to ask for money and then not be on time to receive it. Yeah, I was being an asshole, and it might have been the gin talking. Anyway, I messaged an apology this morning, and he thanked me. So, all is well.
“The past beats inside of me like a second heart.” I saw that on Facebook this morning, and it seemed like a nice introduction to today’s installment of memories. Just this one from eight years ago:
I’m seeing a slew of videos about expats regretting their move to the Philippines. Today’s video features a well-spoken Filipina giving her thoughts on the subject. I honestly don’t let things like the “skin tax” bother me, and there are easy enough workarounds. My major complaints, like noise and litter, aren’t enough to make me want to leave. I just remember my mantra: Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way.
Laughing can help, too:
Anyhoo, I’m a lucky man enjoying the mundane lifestyle I’ve adopted. I can tell my boring drivel is tortuous for my readers; my current stats say I’ve lost about half of my blog visitors over the past few months. Thanks to the rest of you for sticking around. If you have any suggestions for things you’d like me to write about, feel free to let me know in the comments.