No, my pronouns won’t change, and I’m not sure what I’m transitioning to, but my epiphany last night was that I don’t enjoy the bars nearly as much as I used to. Maybe it is just a passing phase. Swan stayed home last night but encouraged me to go out and enjoy some “me” time. I started out at Green Room to use my “buy one, get one” coupon. One thing I noticed during my visit was I didn’t see even one “I would if I could” candidate amongst the multitude of women in the bar. That’s not like me, although I’d rarely partake, even when I was single. It got boring after an hour or so, so I crossed the highway to visit Cheap Charlies. My two regulars there have left for other, hopefully, greener pastures. I drank alone for the first beer, and then a gal I hadn’t seen for quite some time came and sat down beside me. I asked her where had she been, and she said she was home in the province for the past nine months. Being the math wizard that I am, I asked if she’d had a baby there, and she said yes. She told me the father was a Filipino who had flown before the child was born. The kid stayed in the province with her mother while she came back to work. I bought her a welcome-back lady drink and reflected on how the cycle of poverty continues to perpetuate.
The best part of my visit to Cheap Charlies was watching the sun setting behind the clouds.
Shortly after the sun was done, so was I. Heading home at seven is early, even for me. I guess I truly am not the man I used to be.
Ah, the memories. Eight years ago, I visited my barber in Seoul.
Four years ago, I found an exception to my usual disdain for face masks:
And, of course, eighty years ago, the brave soldiers landed on the beaches of France. My, how times have changed.
Today’s YouTube video reminded me of an incident I had almost forgotten about–the man who took revenge on the small town that had wronged him. With a bulldozer.
Anyone in the mood for some offensive humor? Here you go:
And we’ll leave it at that for today.
Being close to bars is ideal, isn’t it, John? I had to take two buses yesterday just to fill my trusty backpack up with booze to last me the day, and whoo-boy, were those bus rides an absolute gas.
On the first bus I suddenly became aware I might be experiencing auditory hallucinations when I heard what sounded like Robert Stack narrating Unsolved Mysteries in my left ear. I turn and it’s this disheveled old man talking to himself in a rather coherent, if nonsensical matter, about everything and nothing. The second bus ride was fucking hilarious. It was like the voyage of methed out old musicians. The first one was…I’m not sure if he was Sting or Billy Idol, a bit of both. Tacky tattoos from his neck to his knuckles, rail thin, tight leather. He was twitchy as fuck and his eyes alternated from rolling around in his skull to darting everywhere and nowhere. We stopped at what I assume was his stop as he got up, stood in the aisle, and waited for us to pull up at his stop…which we already have. He absentmindedly reached out his arm to grasp one of the supports, missed it – twice – looked at his hand as if to say “what’s going on here?” and jumped as he realizes we’re at a dead stop.
The second was unmistakably Kid Rock. Fedora, shades, blonde ponytail and a shitty beard. Saggy jeans and a white tank top. He was carting around a mini skateboard and alternated between giggling and laughing to himself, declaring aloud “I wasn’t crazy before I came to Negro Town…but I am now, that’s what the desert and drugs do to you!”
The third was undeniably Layne Staley, with the prominent facial structure, pointed goatee, shades and slicked back hair. Was this the voyage of the damned or something?
What now? First things first, need to get my ass to the Chevron, I don’t even have any beer left. After that? Drink, of course.
No, my pronouns won’t change, and I’m not sure what I’m transitioning to, but my epiphany last night was that I don’t enjoy the bars nearly as much as I used to.
And we elves on the sidelines cheer, with our squeaky voices, this coming sea change! If you need something to fill your time with, consider travel (with the Swanster), learning a new language (like Tagalog) or skill (like woodworking), other forms of exercise (I’d recommend light strength training), or doing something of service for the community (such as, ahem, picking up all those piles of trash!).
Tagalog resources:
YouTube: Learn Filipino
LingoHut: Learn Tagalog
Get curious about your adoptive country! I hope you end up dropping the current time-wasting bar routine even if it does provide you with some amazing sunsets. Continue with the good stuff, like the walking and the candy distribution.
We’ll see what happens. The older I get, the less motivated it seems. I do intend to travel more often, especially in-country. Thanks for the links and suggestions.
Thompson, at least you don’t have to complain about being bored. Enjoy the adventure called life.