It was a rather eventful day.

I only had a nodding acquaintance with Jim. I’d frequently see him at Sit-n-Bull and out in the bars. I first met him when he was a regular at Alley Cats, where he was known to be a big spender. My ex, Marissa, was one of his favorites there. The last time I saw him was three weeks ago in Hot Zone, where he was sharing drinks with his favorite girl. As much as Jim enjoyed drinking with the bargirls, I’m told he never took any of them home with him. Kinda like me in that regard.

Jim hung himself yesterday morning. It came as a big surprise to the folks who knew him well because he always appeared to be enjoying himself. He was 78 years old. Lately, his health seems to have been deteriorating, one of his legs was swollen, and he was using a cane. I’m speculating that once it became evident that he would no longer be able to go out and do the things he loved doing, like buying drinks for the ladies, he chose to end his life. I can actually respect that. I would not want to continue living if I were confined to my house. Although perhaps I’ll feel differently if and when that day comes.

The folks who knew Jim were devasted at his passing as he was evidently a good and generous man. Rest in Peace, Jimbo. Your suffering is over now.

I don’t recognize him at all, but I saw the video this still was taken from. He got down on his knees in the middle of the freakin’ National Highway and apparently had some kind of mental breakdown. Somehow he managed to avoid being run over, which is a minor miracle in itself. After a few minutes, he got up and entered Dynamite Dick’s, the small bar directly in front of where he put on his crazy show. Once inside, he apparently blacked out. Someone called his wife, who used to be a waitress at Dick’s. When she woke him, he stood up and proceeded to stab her multiple times. I understand she survived that attack, and her husband was taken into custody by the police. Witnesses say the culprit wasn’t drunk, just out of his mind. Scary shit.

A couple of guys on a motorbike pulled up, and one of them ripped a necklace off one of the bar patrons. Someone grabbed the robber in a chokehold, and another customer subdued the one on the bike. The police were summoned, and when the culprits were searched, one of them was carrying a loaded pistol. That all could have gone so wrong. I walk past Sloppy Joe’s frequently and occasionally stop in for a beer. But I’m never out at two in the morning when the druggies are searching for victims to fund their habit.

Two days ago, he woke up with a swollen body and running a fever. Bhel went to see my doctor here in Barretto, and she said he needed to be taken to the hospital immediately. So, Bhel took him to one of the private hospitals in Olongapo City, YMMV, or something like that. She had to wait a couple of hours to be seen. By the time a doctor there looked at him and scheduled some tests, it was too late to have the results reviewed. James was exhausted so mom took him home.

Yesterday morning, she was back, and the doctor said that based on the test results (and by now, James was having difficulty breathing), he needed to be admitted to a hospital right away. He suggested Bhel take him to Gordon, the public hospital. When she gets to Gordon, they tell her no ward space or private rooms are available, to try again tomorrow. She rightfully called bullshit and went back to YMMV. YMMV told her that her PhilHealth insurance (the national health plan in the PI) wasn’t accepted there. A hospital stay was 2100 pesos per day, plus doctor and medicine charges. Further, she would need to pay 6000 pesos in advance to have James admitted. I wired her the money.

Well, when the original doctor found out James had been admitted, he was pissed because YMMV was not equipped with the respiratory machines James required. He suggested she take him to Baypointe hospital. But when they got there, Baypointe turned out to be even more expensive, and she needed a total of 12000 pesos for admission. Well, I’m not going to let her son die over a couple of hundred bucks, so I wired more money. And then get this–Baypointe declined to admit him because he had a fever and a cough! WTF! Where are sick people supposed to go if not the hospital? And James had been specifically referred there by a doctor of medicine. So, Bhel was out of options and went back to YMMV. There it was suggested she call an ambulance from Barretto (which made no sense to me) and have him transported to the Gordon emergency room. So, that’s what they did, and Bhel says when they arrived, one of the nurses remembered James from a previous hospitalization (he has heart problems, too) and had taken a liking to him. And lo and behold, he secured a private room, and James was finally admitted twelve hours after the ordeal began.

It is very scary to think about getting seriously ill in this country. All these medical professionals are willing to sacrifice the life of a young boy over non-sensical protocols. I hope James is going to be okay now, but unless and until they find out what is wrong, he is not out of danger.

Fried chicken, brownies, and lady drinks for Joy.

After Hideaway, I gave Mugshots a try. No bargirls there, but I did flirt with a cute bartender named Odessa. No lady drinks for her (I’m not sure they are even an option), though. I’ll have to add this bar to my rotation for sure.

I finished my night at Wet Spot, where I had a nice chat with owner Daddy Dave.

And so ended another day in my little town.