All I know…

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…is that I’m still going. Where I wind up remains to be seen. Here are some milestones from the preceding 24 hours.

My new morning ritual is coffee with Swan and taking in the view from the patio of her/my house.
That tree top looked familiar, so I took a stroll down Sawmill Road for my morning walk.
And right after entering San Isidro…
…there it is!
It’s a big ol’ thing.
A bit further up Sawmill, I recognized these apartments that I can also see from my future living room patio.
There they are! (I did use zoom for this photo)
Looking for my place from Sawmill and can’t see much…
Using zoom, I can see the top of my house (on the right)

Continuing on with my walk I encountered some domesticated wildlife.

That really gets my goat!
A carabao chillin’ out…

I started my evening out at Sloppy Joe’s and was disappointed to be ignored by a waitress there. Rather than let it ruin my buzz, I moved up the highway to Cheap Charlies.

And had some honey barbeque wings with my beers.

My real mission was to visit a new bar opening last night. It is located on the second floor below BarCelona, so that’s where I went while I awaited the six p.m. grand opening.

This sign was posted in the BarCelona CR near the urinals. I was at a loss about how I might take a piss without making the toilet wet and dirty. I did at least flush when I finished.
La Oficina is a strange name for a bar. It was originally going to be called The Office, but someone who used to own a bar by that name in Barretto claimed to still own the rights to the Office moniker. I challenged the manager, my former darts teammate Mark, that in Spanish, office was a masculine noun that should be preceded by “El.” He looked it up, and “La” is correct.
I was surprised to discover Liza, one of my former dart league opponents, was working as a waitress at the new bar. Aren’t those French maid uniforms cute?
It’s a medium-sized bar with dancers. I understand they will be joining the SOB dance competition soon.
And the bar also features a pool table.

I was the very first customer, so I’ll take pride in that. The bar did fill up for the opening night. Beers were 90 pesos, and single lady drinks were 170; that’s fair pricing for a girly bar. Nothing wrong with the place; just not my style. I wish them well going forward.

I finished my night at Wet Spot and came home with a pecan pie from Sit-n-Bull.

Coffee again this morning with Swan. We had a nice chat, some laughs, and discussed plans to build a rooftop shelter. Tomorrow morning I will broach the subject of sharing the same space as her deceased partner and her comfort level with doing so. I suspect she’s alright with the idea, or she would have let me know by now. Still, better to have an understanding now versus a surprise later.

After coffee, I did a long (for me) 10K hike to Subic-town and back. Needed to raid that ATM again.

It was a boring highway walk, so this is my only photo.
There and back again. Even the map is boring. And no, I didn’t make it all the way back home. I stopped at the market for some Coke Zeros and then took a trike home. Oh, I started the tracker from Swan’s place, so now you can see where my new digs will be located.

It’s the Sunday feeding for the gals at Hideaway tonight. One of my talking points this morning was my bar life and whether Swan has any issue with my treating the girls. She doesn’t but did ask why I don’t just give them a tip instead of a drink. It’s a fair point, and in fact, I make that offer (Liza preferred a tip over a second drink last night), but in many cases, the girls have drink quotas to meet. Failure to do so results in a reduction in their already meager pay. So, more often than not, the girls want the drink rather than the money.

So, that’s all I know for now. Today’s post title was inspired by an Art Garfunkel tune that came up on my playlist as I walked this morning. These are songs that Spotify is picking for me and it is weird when they mirror my mood.

4 thoughts on “All I know…”

  1. re: la oficina

    Latinate words ending in “-ina” are usually feminine. Like “ballerina” in English.

    re: Liza

    She gettin’ a little fresh with you in that pic?

    Coffee again this morning with Swan. We had a nice chat, some laughs, and discussed plans to build a rooftop shelter.

    Here’s hoping it’s monsoon- and typhoon-proof.

    It was a boring highway walk, so this is my only photo.

    It has a bit of a favela feel to it.

    Good luck as you and Swan have The Talk tomorrow.

  2. It is what it is and might just work out to be something great.
    But would she really be “alright with the idea” if she were the one paying the rent and you were staying there for free and getting paid for providing some help and limited companionship after your former squeeze passed? It’s a delicate question but I’ve learned to keep it real. The arrangement might still be acceptable, but wishful thinking can be a cruel bitch. Keep your eyes open as you pursue this one. Cheers.

  3. Thanks, Drain. Eyes wide open, but this feels different somehow. No choice but to take the chance and see where it goes. “What if?” hurts longer than a broken heart.

  4. Was Liza getting fresh? No, not at all. She’s in a relationship and not into guys. And, of course, I’m in a relationship too!

    Yes, the shelter will have to be strong to withstand the elements. I also want a thatched top to keep the heat down–those metal roofs can feel like an oven.

    I’d never heard the term favela before, thanks for the link. Yes, that word aptly describes many of these squatter towns and shanty villages I pass through during my hikes. I’m happy the folks are generally friendly and welcoming.

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