Hashing in the hills

I’m happy to report I survived another trail by the notorious Hare, Vienna Sausage. Weirdly, the “sane” group I was with was in sync with Vienna’s thinking, and thus we were able to avoid the worst of what he had planned to put us through.

A challenging and steep climb in the beginning, which for me, is better than at the end when my energy stores are depleted. Still, this up had me huffing and puffing, and when we were finally near the top, the trail turned back DOWN the mountain. Fuck that. We looked around for an alternative route and saw a trail had been blocked off with a bamboo stick. Hmm. Easy enough to remove the blockage and continue on to the summit. And surprise, surprise, after a very short walk on the alternative path, we found ourselves back on the Hare’s marked trail. As we suspected, that downhill was just a diversion to make things harder than they needed to be.

The same thing happened a couple more times during the hike–we’d see the marked trail divert in a way we didn’t like, so we went our own way, and before long, we’d be back on the Hare’s trail again. Near the end, we found our own way back down and took an alternative route back to the On-Home at the VFW. So, it actually worked out well. We did the “best” parts of the trail and let the die-hards have their fun on the rest of it. Win-Win!

The yellow is the Hare’s path, the purple our deviations. Despite our shortcuts, we still walked most of the intended trail, albeit some of it in reverse.
Gathering up at the VFW.
And we are On-On!
The hard climb came early.
Steep it was.
Once the steps gave way, the going got more challenging.
Even the diagonal switchbacks were a challenge.
18-Kilo Ass kept plugging away until he reached the top.
Look out! That’s a Bum Burglar in the grass!
A view from near the top.
Hashers on grass.
One of my favorite vistas.
A fine day to be up in the hills.
ISD had a lost look on his face, but we kept guessing right.
And we had Easter mountain to guide us.
So, we started downwards, and then the trail turned back up, and the old-timers said he was taking the creekbed route. Nope, not for us! We continued going straight.
And I almost burst out laughing when I saw Vienna’s last-ditch effort to dissuade us. I guess he was in sync with our thinking too.
One last mountain view.
Our path led us down into Marian Hills.
Then we circled back around, climbed to Alta Vista, and then On-Home to VFW.
A gathering of Harriettes.
And some Harriers.
Circle up! It’s nice on ice!
Our newest named Hasher, Brazilian-69. Apparently, she fessed up to having recently had one of those wax jobs “down there,” and her boyfriend is named Covid-69. May they share many happy Hashes together!
It was also Brazilian-69’s birthday, so of course, we made her a cake.
And Pubic Head was awarded the Hashit. Again.

After the Hash circle was concluded, some of the group moved to It Doesn’t Matter to drink a little more. As usual, I was buying lady drinks for my favorite, Agnes, and then something weird happened–she disappeared with a full bottle of beer I’d just bought her (200 pesos!) left sitting untouched. Okay, she’s a waitress, and it was busy with all us Hashers there, so I assumed she was taking care of customers. But when she didn’t return after several minutes, I knew something must be up. It was.

It turns out Agnes wasn’t performing waitress duties, or at least I’ve never had a waitress do what I observed her doing. She was standing in the middle of the crowded room with a man in motorcycle club attire. Well, standing ain’t quite the right descriptor–she was kissing him. Eh, I mean deep tongue kissing. And he had his hands all over her. I had never seen such a blatant PDA in any Barretto bar before. I still would have found it offensive if they were an old married couple. I’m surprised no one shouted, “get a room, for chrissakes!”

That’s me in the “nice on ice” shirt, and I’ve circled the “loving” couple above. No one in the crowded room seems to be bothered by their shenanigans. So, why should I have been?

I’ll tell you why. To begin, I purchased her a drink which comes with an obligation to drink it with the customer who bought it. If she wanted to go be all kissy-face with the biker dude, she should have just declined my drink offer. Or if she had said, “I’m sorry, John, but a friend of mine is here, and I need to see him.” I would have told her fine, take your beer and go. But to just disappear was extremely rude.

The other bothersome aspect for me was being so totally wrong about someone. Now, Agnes isn’t the typical bargirl. She’s 38 and has four kids. But I have enjoyed her company for several months now, and I always saw her as a hard-working mother doing the best for her kids. She told me she didn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know if that was a lie or if I was witnessing love at first sight with this guy. There is no question those were passionate kisses, and she was an equal and willing participant, even when he was rubbing her tits. I was having a hard time believing my eyes, and I was disgusted with my failure to see the true nature of her character.

In retrospect, I don’t know why I should have been surprised. My previous IDM favorite waitress turned out to be a lesbian, unbeknownst to me. Heh, I guess I’m just easily fooled. Oh well, time to find a new favorite again.

Switching gears, I think this explains why my blog is not very popular (less than 200 daily readers this week):

Only the best and brightest read LTG! I can live with that.

And I didn’t know what to make of this ad that appeared on my Facebook newsfeed today:

It was for some “performance enhancing” tablets. But why would the algorithm target me?

Life’s mysteries abound.

12 thoughts on “Hashing in the hills

  1. Quite the mountain adventure. Whatever gets the blood pumping!

    I don’t know Agnes, but if she’s got four kids, and she works where she works, she doesn’t sound like the type to make wise life-choices. Kissing Baldy while on your dime fits that pattern.

    If your readership is anything like mine, you’ve probably got a lot of “lurkers” who never bother to make themselves known. I used to think I could cultivate an awesome commenting community, but I’ve long given up on that goal. Most of my commenters simply address me directly and never talk to each other. Frustrating, but maybe my own introversion is the root cause of the problem. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you’ve got lurkers who read your work but never bother to react to it for reasons ranging from laziness to shyness.

  2. awww
    sorry to hear about your heartbreak 💔

    you really do care for some of these ladies

    I would say that they don’t deserve your heart
    but

  3. Dear John,

    I second James sentiments and sorry if them putzs left you feeling like a fifth wheel. If I’d been there I would have got one of my gofers to help me climb on to the nearest barstool and poke them hoodlums in the belly buttons – and tell them to get their noisy hulks of metal down to West Spot for a good time and leave your lady be.

    I hope to see you in my bra again soon, chaver.

  4. Dave, thanks for your support, but it’s really no big deal. I’m over it. My disgust was not so much about the biker guy; rather, it was seeing a “good” girl gone bad. And that’s my fault for being blind to reality.

    No idea what your last line means, but back at ya! 🙂

  5. James, no heartbreak at all, just disappointment. Mostly in myself for being blind to reality. Here in the PI, we have a word we say when we lose a bargirl friend: “next!”

  6. Kev, yeah, Agnes has made some poor life choices. Who knows what happened after she got off work, maybe she got knocked up again. The incident was a good reminder for me to remember to not give a shit about these girls.

    I get a weekly report from StatCounter showing daily visits/page views to the blog. It’s pretty stable at around 230 readers (or bots) per day, so last week’s drop to the 190s was pretty significant. Anyway, I’m obviously not trying to appeal to a wide range of readers; I like the fact that there are a couple of hundred folks who enjoy reading about my mundane “trials, tribulations, and adventures” here at LTG.

    Yes, the comments are one of my favorite parts of blogging, and I look forward to hearing feedback from the handful of folks who take the time to share their thoughts. I think you are the only one I’ve actually met in person, but I’m surprised sometimes by how insightful these “strangers” can be and how well they know me and my quirks. Why it’s almost like having friends! 🙂

  7. You’re like a celebrity.
    you share so much of your life here.
    Your daughter-in-law might think that is too much sharing.
    But since you literally share your daily steps, thought process and feelings…that leads to astute readers thinking that they know you.
    but of course that’s not true.
    We only know what you tell us here on this hallowed forum. Just like we never fully know Clint Eastwood because we watched hundreds of his movies , we also know but a sliver of your life.

    May I boldly suggest that your disappointment with Agnes is more likely from the humiliation that the event happened in a rather public place. You may be very much American in your thinking, but you can’t live on those islands this long without getting a bit of the local perspective all spilling onto you.
    I’m talking about the concept of face. Everyone in that bar knows you, and they know that she is ‘your girl’. And when your girl does such a thing, not only in full view of other patrons, but actually with a person who’s not even a regular high-paying customer, but a fellow hash member…worlds collide.
    Your bar life and your hash life conspiring against you.
    If it was some out-of-town rich handsome tourist, your disappointment would be palpable but the actions would be understandable. But making kissy faces with Baldy McBaldy , who,by all accounts wasn’t even buying her the expensive tequila or even food, just stings even more when it happens in front of your hash friends.
    That made you lose face. And there’s nothing worse than losing face. I mean, you only have the one face.And once you lose face, then how could you ever show your face again? Definitely not something you’d enjoy doing, at least at that bar. Which is a shame, because that is literally your favorite bar ( full -disclosure: I don’t care much for that bar; the location, the decor, the whole vibe , the crowd…. but these are the reasons it is apparently your favorite).

    In a way, you’re fully-immersed in this lifestyle. You have a favorite girl in every bar, and in your writing you usually mention whether she has a boyfriend and how she may have responded to your romantic overtures. That line of thinking suggests that you’re playing along with this game , where for the next hour of San Miguel, you are on a date. You even do something that no bar fly would do; you buy your date dinner and just watch her enjoy her food. On the inside you know the game, but you’re still in it. Flag football isn’t real football, yet you could still enjoy the thrill of winning, or losing. Fantasy football too. I got a better example. WWE wrestling: It literally has a script of who will win, and what trash talk should precede the event. And yet, wrestlers could actually die. I think Google will tell you that some WWE wrestlers have died in the ring.
    Bottom line: you’re in the game. And just like Joy would be massively disappointed if you didn’t show up on Wednesday, you would be massively if she brought her boyfriend with her to dinner. You’d be insulted, humiliated, annoyed and enraged. Jealous, envious and disrespected . All these emotions would register on your face, in full view of people, people who know you ….and that is how you lose face.

    I believe Dave has invited you to his ‘bra’ . Personally I’m too scared to find out what he plans to do to you once you get there. But I’m sure you won’t lose face in there….or bury your face in there.

    Keep doing your thing Sir John
    I won’t disparage the woman for her actions, her behavior or her past . It’s all in the game.

    in case you didn’t know …your entire readership is waiting and rooting for your blue house adventures.

  8. I believe that I have mentioned this before, but I have a domain name I have purchased (e.g. http://www.brian.com). I have nothing on the web page, it is not accessible yet I get about 25-30 “visitors” per day. Usually the US is the top visitor, followed by Russia, China and then Germany and then a smattering of other countries.

    Pretty obvious all those visits are bots, so if my web page is indicative of the norm, looks like about 10-15% of visits to your site are bots. However, I am not sure if bot traffic would increase with an “active” website as opposed to an inactive one, so your percentage may be a bit higher.

    Re: Agnes. Bar girls have a very short term outlook. Would you rather get $5/day for the next month or $50 right now? Most would choose the $50.

  9. Brian, yeah, I have several spam blockers, but I’m not sure whether blocked spam gets counted as a visit or not. Honestly, I don’t care. I’m happy for the folks who enjoy their visits, but I no longer try to promote my blog to get more readers. I used to put links up on Facebook but I haven’t done that for years. The feeling of being anonymous gives me the freedom to say things I might not feel comfortable revealing. It is always shocking when I encounter readers randomly. A little scary, but it goes with the territory.

    Yeah, upon reflection Agnes is just doing what she believes is best for Agnes. My fault for believing we were “friends.”

  10. Victor, thanks for the astute and thought-provoking comment. I hope I’m more handsome since I’ve lost face! 🙂 Honestly, it’s not all that bad, and you are right; that incident just goes with playing the game. My mistake was taking it a little too seriously. I’m going to take a break from bargirls for a bit and recalibrate. Don’t worry; I’m not giving up on the bars; I’ll just be drinking alone. I’m sure I’ll venture into IDM again, with or without my face, but no more lady drinks!

    Thanks again for reading and following along with me on this road called life. I’m sure new adventures await just around the next corner!

  11. Dear John,

    Tell Victor to stop encouraging hate and discrimination. The follicly challenged have a right to love to. The world is against us enough already. And, no, unlike you, he is not welcome in my bar. Shalom.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *