These days, I avoid stress and drama as much as possible, and I can always rely on my mantra, “take a deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way,” whenever the need arises. The bullshit in the comments of late has been a tad irritating, but I’m over that now, too.
Here’s how I spent Independence Day in the Philippines:
For the Friday hike, we did a scouting mission for the upcoming June 22nd Hash trail.
And then at the appointed hour, we headed out to visit the newly reopened BarCelona. Except it wasn’t. All the lights were on as we climbed those god-awful stairs, but then we walked inside an empty bar. One unfriendly Filipino was inside, taking pictures, and just grunted, “Not open.” I was a little irked coming back down the stairs. At the bottom was a foreigner, whom I presumed to be the manager, who said, “You are early birds, we don’t open until 6” (it was a little before 5), and I pointed out that the signage says “open from 2 onward.” He shrugged and said that was the former hours, and that he hoped we’d return later. We didn’t, but I’ll give them another chance at some point.
On the other hand, the new Jungle bar was in the midst of their “soft opening,” and we were warmly greeted when we walked inside. Well, there’s still a lot of work to be done, some of which was annoyingly going on during our visit, but when it is ready for a “grand opening,” I’m sure it will be nice. I still liked the old Green Room vibe better, but the girly bar customers at the other tables seemed to be having fun with the gals. I personally don’t like seeing all that hands-on business, but it didn’t appear the girls minded.
After finishing our drinks, we walked up the road a piece for something to eat at Myleen’s. Yeah, we both enjoyed some birria tacos.
We did our nightcap at the Alaska Club. Owner Jerry is still out of the country, and we were the only customers. Our regular waitress took good care of us and we rewarded her with a couple of lady drinks. At Swan’s suggestion, we bought a drink for a dancer who was actually putting in some effort. I didn’t want her at our table, though, because she looked a little wild in the eyes (I’m talking crazy), so she had her drink on stage.
We didn’t buy drinks for the two gals who ignored my friendly greeting the other day. Whether or not they made the connection, I don’t know. I don’t care, either.
Then we were homeward bound. A batch of strawberry-banana smoothies was a nice transition to bedtime. And so our Independence Day revelry came to an end.
Not my Facebook memory, but this post on Facebook brought back memories:
From the November 2019 LTG archives, I tell about the night I got robbed. Well, burgled technically, but I was home at the time. It could have been worse, I suppose, and in some ways, my failure to properly secure my sliding glass doors puts the onus on me. Well, I haven’t been a crime victim since (not counting Filipina scams), so there’s that.
Well, when you are in your 70s, you want to remember the first time you experienced the 70s. Today’s YouTube video was a little walk through the past that is gone forever now.
Forgive me, Father, for I have joked:
But enough of this nonsense.
Life is good.