My Saturday evening didn’t turn out quite the way I expected. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut and change things up. It was still as good a night out as it gets for me these days. At least I enjoyed myself.

So, I had every intention of playing darts in the Alley Cat tournament. I arrived right around 2:00 p.m. to get some practice time in before the three o’clock start. Only a couple of other guys in the bar when I got there so I set up camp at my regular table. One of the gals was celebrating a birthday so I had brought along some freshly baked brownies and a Korean-style white envelope gift for her. Shortly thereafter the other girls arrived bringing in trays of food for the traditional birthday feast. It seemed like a fine evening was in store. And then things started going wrong.

They were out of my preferred beer, San Mig Zero. Then, while I was at the dartboards getting some throws in, a guy showed up that I don’t particularly like. He doesn’t usually throw darts (or didn’t before I went on hiatus) but he had brought his arrows. He had another guy with him I hadn’t seen before. And they both plopped down at “my” table. Okay, I don’t own the table but I was there first. And yes, it seats four and it wouldn’t be unusual for some others to join me, although they would usually ask first. In the old days, they bargirls would take care of me and say, sorry why don’t you sit here instead. Not this time though. I guess I lost my regular status and the benefits that come from that. So, I went back to my seat and figured I’d make the best of it. Me and “the guy” didn’t even exchange pleasantries.

Okay, the bad blood I have towards him happened a year or so ago. Same type situation, he arrived late and there was limited seating left open. He asked if could join me and I said sure. So he sits down and after a few minutes, he starts rudely complaining about my vaping. To be clear, vaping is allowed in Alley Cats (and most other bars) and I’ve been vaping there since day one. Hell, I was vaping when the asshole asked to sit with me. Then he expects me to stop? Fuck him. And so here I am again in that situation. Yeah, I took a few puffs but the vibe was decidedly uncomfortable.

And then a third friend of this guy arrives and takes the last remaining seat at my table. Okay, I had been expecting a friend to join me later but I guess these days it is first come, first served. And I sat there and looked around. Alley Cats is a very small venue (picture a two-car garage). My table is full of people I either don’t know or don’t like. The bar is also filling up. I’m thinking if there was ever going to be a COVID breakout, this situation is the perfect breeding ground. The more I sat there feeling out of sorts the more I realized it was unlikely to be the fun time I originally anticipated. So, I decided fuck this. Gave the birthday girl her brownies and envelope, texted my friend that I was leaving, paid my tab, and hit the street.

Now what? Well, it just so happens that yesterday was the grand re-opening of a famous old bar, Voodoo. It’s been moved into the space formerly occupied by Lollipop in Dave Fisher’s Maze of bars. I figured I’d give it a look-see, even though it hadn’t been one of my favorite venues in the past.

It still isn’t. It remains a girly bar but with the COVID social distancing requirements, there are no dancers. Instead, the gals sit at tables on the stage. My waitress asked me if I saw anyone I’d like to invite down to join me for a drink. I didn’t. It was just me and a couple of other customers but I guess these past few months have changed me somehow–I still felt claustrophobic. Sitting in a windowless room looking at women who don’t particularly appeal to me just ain’t my idea of fun nowadays. Give me the fresh air and mountain/bay views instead. That’s just the way I roll. Two beers (at 110 pesos each, more than twice the price of Cheap Charlies) and I was out of there and bound for, you guessed it, Cheap Charlies.

Felt better about things immediately. Greeted by name and offered a Zero before I could even ask. Took my usual seat overlooking the highway (with the mountains as a nice backdrop) and proceeded to enjoy myself. The peanut vendor came by and I bought eight small bags of nuts for 100 pesos to give to the gals. My crush Heidi came over to say hello and I offered her a drink. She accepted and joined me on the next stool. Lovely was my waitress again so of course, I bought her a lady drink too. Then I noticed the bartender with a “what about me?” look on her face, so I let her join the party as well.

As I chatted with my company I noticed a guy carrying two big baskets go into the bar across the street. He came right back out which told me the bar was devoid of customers. When he crossed the highway I figured he was coming my way. He was. I had heard of this guy actually–the chocolate man. He’s from Belgium and makes his own candy. Apparently, he is a fixture in the Angeles City bars, but since most of them are now closed he spends a lot more time in Barretto. This was the first time I had ever actually seen what he was selling. He had regular chocolates and others infused with alcohol. Odd as it may seem, I’ve never liked mixing booze with sweets. Always hated rum cake for example. So, I stuck with the kinds I like–a sampler of milk and dark, with nuts and plain. He had a deal going where you buy one large and get one free. So, I purchased two large for 1000 pesos ($20.) and had plenty of chocolate to satisfy the sweet cravings of all the bargirls present.

I wound up buying the gals I was treating three lady drinks each. Now, it is usually not my style to play the big spender in the bars. That’s what tourists are for! But I was having fun, there weren’t many customers, it was Saturday night (well, evening) so why not splurge a little? I know the girls appreciated the commissions they earned. I also gave them an individual 50 peso tip (placed in the cleavage so they didn’t have to share). My bar tab was a whopping 2000 pesos ($40). Yeah, it’s cheap to be generous in the Philippines!

I wasn’t quite done yet though. I still hadn’t found “mama”, the homeless woman I try to give supper money to every day. As I walked up the highway checking her usual hangouts I came upon the Palm Tree Resort and felt the urge for a nightcap. In some ways, I enjoy this bar more than Mango’s next door. Being on the second floor enhances the views and keeps the souvenir vendors a safe distance away. The bar itself was actually pretty crowded, something I hadn’t seen there before. Some type of rugby match on TV might have brought them in, but still good to see folks out again. I enjoyed the back deck and bay views as I downed two beers.

That was pretty much my limit for the night, so back down to the highway and my quest for mama. In due course, I spotted her familiar umbrella, handed her the customary 100 pesos, then splurged on a trike ride back to my house. I fixed myself a dessert of a brownie with vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup on top. Come to think of it, I must have forgotten to have dinner last night. Oh well.

Skies were cloudy this morning but that just provided a little change to the normal scenic perspective.

And then I stopped for a refreshing RC Cola.

The rain held off until I was just a couple of blocks from home. And it’s been raining ever since. That didn’t stop Nikole from coming over to provide my weekly massage. She’s good at her work, I’ll grant her that.

And that’s the way things are in these here parts. At least for me.