Things don’t always go according to plan, even when you don’t have much of a plan to begin with. Last night should have been a good time, but I wound up sitting alone in a bar, feeling sorry for myself. I hear what you’re thinking: what else is new? Well, things got worse after that, so I drank more, and maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. I don’t know, still feeling blue today, but I’m fixin’ (man, those years down south left a mark) to put it all behind me and see if tonight turns out to be worth remembering.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, Paula, the Snackbar owner, was celebrating her birthday, and her loyal customers would help her make the day as special as she is. My initial plan was to show up around four, head to Alaska Club for the SOB at five, and then return to Snackbar afterward. But I changed my mind and decided to skip the SOB and just enjoy the birthday party vibe.
I arrived early, expecting I’d spend some time with Lydell, but she was otherwise occupied. I talked to some other folks, and then the tiny bar (most of which is seating outside at tables in the parking lot) began to fill up. I went to use the restroom, and when I returned, the waitress had seated several strangers joining me at my small table. Eh, I understand at a crowded event with limited seating, you can’t expect to have prime territory for your exclusive use. Still, interacting with strangers is not my nature, so I moved to a less desirable location. And as I sat there, my mood darkened until I reached the point where I didn’t want to be there anymore. So, I wished Paula a happy birthday again and left. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I knew it would involve beer.
As I approached Alaska Club, I saw people outside signing up for the SOB. I approached the table and saw that there had only been a dozen or so admissions so far, so I figured I could still get a good seat. I paid my 700 pesos and went inside.
My favorite spot was already taken, which was no surprise, but the waitress sat me on a small couch (big enough for two) along the wall in front of the stage. That’ll work. I usually have someone from the host bar join me for the event (I buy their company with lady drinks), but last night a customer brought all the Alaska girls down from the stage for drinks. That’s okay; I figured my regular Joy (the skinny one with no boobs and stretch marks) would join me after her team danced. She didn’t, though, and so I sat there alone. The storm clouds in my brain continued to darken. I tried to drown the discontent in beer without success.
When the show was over, I left Alaska and stood on the highway thinking, what next? Fuck it; I’ll go back to Snackbar. When I arrived, the party was still in full swing, but I was able to find a seat inside. Lydell had already left but came back when I messaged her, so I was finally able to buy her a drink. I was in big spender mode and bought drinks for several of the other girls as well. And I finally started feeling a little better about things.
And then a drunken guy I know (I’ll call him Earl) came in. He was being loud and obnoxious, which is not unusual for him when he’s been drinking. Earl hadn’t ordered a drink yet, but when the waitress walked by with a half-finished drink from another table, he attempted to grab it from her. I reached out and grabbed it first, and told him if you want a drink, buy one like everyone else. He tried to argue that it was just going to be thrown away, so why not. I told him it didn’t work that way. I guess the argument escalated, although I don’t recall what all was said; eventually, Earl left in a huff. The other customers applauded his departure, and several thanked me for intervening.
I left shortly after that, and when I got home, I saw that he had sent me some messages:
You a bitch
Fucking with me
Suck my dick ass hole
Dont be a prick towards me
Ill fuck you up Bitch
Be peaceful dick head
If you understand peace dick
Apparently, I pissed him off. He didn’t talk so tough in person, though. I sent him this response:
You were being an asshole. If you don’t like it, don’t be an asshole.
This morning I noted that he had deleted all his tough guy words to me. No apology, though. Fuck him; I don’t need that kind of drama in my life anyway. Normally, I can’t be baited into those types of confrontations, but it was just one of those nights for me for some reason.
So, that’s how my day ended. It started out much better with a hike in the Bolon Falls area out in the hills on the far side of Subic town. We only had three folks show up for the Friday group, so once again, Scott volunteered to drive us to some rarely-visited areas. We were last out that way over a year ago. A couple of moderate climbs and several get-your-feet-wet creek crossings, but still quite nice overall. We also passed through an Aeta (native Filipino) village, which I always find quite fascinating for some reason. Very friendly and smiling, despite living in abject poverty.
And it turned out to be the best part of the day.
A nice, therapeutic walk after a nasty interaction with Earl can only be a good thing.
Heaven knows why someone chose to build it halfway up a frickin’ mountain
It would make more sense if it were a Buddhist temple. In Korea, most temples are mountain temples, with a community of monks living on site.
Here’s hoping the Earl thing has died down now.
I also find the Aetas fascinating. Many moons ago, I learned that they, or at least the adults, don’t eat processed or prepackaged food, which tends to make them sick. I had given away some packaged baked goods to some itinerant vendors passing through Barretto, because that’s what I happened to be carrying at the time. They thanked me and quickly began trying to sell the stuff. Anyway, things may have changed since then (30+ years ago) but the Aetas seem to have some fundamental wisdom that works well for their modest traditional lifestyle. But they’re constantly under pressure now as the world around them evolves and closes in…
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I knew it would involve beer.
…a tale of one man’s retirement in The Philippines
is how your memoir’s full title will go.
The storm clouds in my brain continued to darken. I tried to drown the discontent in beer without success.
You must be unlucky because that ploy usually works a treat.
Your man Earl sounds like the type who wakes up in a ditch. You did the right, the noble thing. One question though. You always seem to venture out alone. No buddies non-Earl enough to pal up with and hit the town together?
Beautiful wild scenery up in the mountains. Like you, I can see the allure of living up there, but in reality, it would be a real pain in the ass.
Here’s hoping that things smooth over with Earl, or at least you have minimal interaction with him going forward. If he was a drunk as he appeared to be, he may have no memory of the encounter.
@drain snake I have heard that about isolated tribes. They are so used to non-processed foods that it can be a real problem for them if they have processed foods. John – I know you mean well, but wondering if giving kids a bunch of sugar/empty calories when their dental care is probably non-existent is the best route. Maybe something other than cookies would be a better gift?
Brian, I’ve had the same thought–it’s so nice up here, wish I had a cabin. Then I think about the reality of getting all life’s necessities (including wifi), and I say, nope, not for me.
“Earl,” I’m sure, remembers because he deleted all his messages the next day. We used to hang out sometimes in the same bars, but in the past few months, I’ve not run into him until Friday night. It’s a small town, though; I’m sure I’ll bump into him eventually. I have no animosity, but I imagine we’ll just ignore each other going forward. That works for me.
As to the cookies, I almost always make sure there is an adult around to approve the gift. I suspect most of these kids I encounter get very few treats, so I don’t think my cookies will contribute much to tooth decay. Also, I usually give a cookie bag (8 packs of 3 cookies) to a group of children with the admonishment to share. Assuming they do share, that’s only a couple of cookies each. I have worried about encountering a diabetic child someday, but what are the odds?
Dan, I love that title to the story of my current life. I’m stealing it!
Yes, “Earl” does have his issues, especially when drinking. I probably have had more tolerance for his antics than most of his acquaintances, but he picked the wrong night to goad me.
And yes, I tend to be a loner. I’d enjoy getting an invite for an occasional bar hop or get-together, but it rarely comes. My introverted tendencies make it a stretch for me to do the inviting, and honestly, sitting here now thinking about it, I’m not sure who I would ask. Most of the people I know here are coupled up or otherwise ill-disposed to the bar life I’ve embraced. But I’ve got lots of “friends” in the bars who are happy to see me and my wallet.
Drain, interesting insights on Aeta diets. I’m going to be participating in an annual event for an Aeta village in Olongapo next month that includes handing out foodstuffs and gifts. The ones running the show are buying the supplies (I’m just a money man), and I assume they know what they are doing.
What I’ve noticed is that the Aeta people don’t seem to integrate into the general Filipino community. I rarely see them outside of their villages, and I don’t think I’ve seen any working normal jobs in stores and such. I am curious if this isolation is by choice or a manifestation of discrimination against folks with dark skin. I’ve never heard a Filipino speak ill of the Aetas, and many charities cater to them, so I suspect the Aetas are non-integrated by choice.
Kev, actually, that nice hike was in the morning BEFORE the encounter with “Earl,” but I had my regular solo walk the following morning. I don’t expect I’ll have any Earl problems in the future. If he wants to apologize, that’s fine. If not, I don’t care enough to be bothered about it.
It’s funny you mention Korea; Jim and Scott told me that the church had been built by Korean Christian missionaries. I guess the locals didn’t like the concept of worshipping closer to heaven. I recall hiking up to several of those temples in Korea (before I was a hiker) with my Buddhist wife, and it was a chore but worth it once you reached the top. Always beautiful architecture with a great view.