Born and raised in southern California. My career exodus has taken me to Arizona, Oklahoma, Arkansas, South Carolina, Virginia, and Washington, DC. And as of 23 January 2005, Seoul, Korea. Married with 6 grown children (blended family). First grandchild is in the oven! I created this blog to document my adventures as an expat living and working in Korea. I'm also pretty confident that I will on occasion feel the need to express my views on current events and other matters I find of interest.
I wound up doing all of the short trail (4K+) yesterday. It featured three climbs, something I would not normally do voluntarily. In fact, at the top of the first hill, a long, steep slog, I could have taken a left turn and avoided the other ups, but that would have meant finishing too soon, even by my low standards. I figured I could either bail at the bottom of the down or after the second climb. Turns out, at the bottom, there was nowhere else to go but up, and at the top of the second hill, there was nothing to be done but follow the trail to the end. Well, it’s always nice to get through a tough trail, so that sense of pride is my return for a hot afternoon’s work.
A Gods-eye view of the trailWe gathered at the Saver’s Appliance store on the edge of town and began our hike from there.The Hare, Demolition Derby, provides last-minute guidance.And we are On-On!And the first big up started right awayWhat an inclination!The trail was steeped in mystery…when do we reach the top?PosersHello down there!The trail teased us with a taste of flatness before resuming the upward angle.And then, at last, we began the descent. But with each step downward, I knew a future step would lead me back up again.It wasn’t a particularly easy down either.The long and short of itBuddy Fucker makes it through the fence……and so does Bum BurglarThe end of the second climb was a real bitchHill #2 is in the books!Steep and slippery going down the second time too.Easy does itOn the home stretch at lastWasn’t that fun?The Hash Circle at Blue Butterfly
My night after the hike went to shit. I was just in a pissy mood for some reason. Wound up leaving the circle early, being an asshole at IDM, and then heading home about the time the other Hashers arrived. Luckily, that behavior is not my norm. I was embarrassed thinking about it this morning.
I made the ascent to the peak of Easter mountain yesterday without incident. In fact, I made it to the top without much difficulty, which is especially surprising. I had carried my portable nebulizer with me in anticipation of a breathing attack during the climb, but I didn’t need it. Oh sure, I did some huffing on puffing on the way up, but the normal kind, not the “oh my God, I can’t breathe” feeling I’ve been experiencing recently. Even my hiking companion, Jim, was surprised at my slow but steady progress up the mountain without the need to stop and rest. I hope this is a sign that whatever has been ailing my worn-out lungs has left the building. Another indication that things may be improving is that I’m sleeping through the night without the need to get up and nebulize. I’m not sure what has changed, but it occurs to me that perhaps my rejection of gin as my alcoholic beverage of choice had a positive impact. Whatever, feeling healthier is like, well, a breath of fresh air!
The purpose of yesterday’s climb was to scout the trail for the traditional Easter Monday Hash run. The way we are going to the top is steep but not as tough as some other paths we’ve Hashed recently. Now, getting back down was another matter. There is still a lot of grass, which made finding an easy-to-follow trail difficult. In fact, we are going back out on Wednesday to find a better alternative than what we took yesterday. We’ll do that by starting at the bottom where we want to come out and then working our way back up. So, yes, I have another Easter mountain climb in the near future, actually, two more because we’ll also need to go back and mark the trail on Easter Monday.
The Hashers will ride rented Jeepneys to the trailhead next week. Jim and I took a trike yesterday to the starting point.
We got dropped off here, in clear view of our objective.Heading to our rendezvous with the mountain.
Let the climbing begin! You’ll see Jim waiting for me in most of these photos. I may be feeling better, but I’m still slow. Plus, I was taking the pictures.
Onward and upward!Still, a long way to goLooking back down from whence we cameI’m coming! I’m coming!Getting closerI’m falling further and further behind, it seems, but Jim is a patient manA measure of our upwards progressAnd now it is time to rock it!Getting stoned!Don’t look down!The final push to the topThat’s going to be a new subdivision somedayThe bay view from hereI’ll take that as a sign!Summit achieved!The proof that I made it tooThe view from the topAs I mentioned, getting down was no easy taskSteep and slippery, and you can’t see your footing in that tall grass.And there didn’t seem to be any clear path downAnd it got a little jungle-like near thebottomIt was hot and dirty work getting down, but we will find a better way for the Hashers to follow.This is where we came out and not exactly where we want to be. Further up the highway is the trail we want. We’ll explore that back up on Wednesday and then finalize our plans for the Monday Hash. Jim is taking the hardy group over the Black Rock ridge; I’ll lead the sane group through the valley.
We are off to a good start, though.
And now, for the rest of the day. I bought the Hideaway girls some Korean-style chicken wings and bulgogi from John’s place, along with a pizza from Shamboli’s for their Sunday feeding.
Bulgogi, wings, and seaweed (kim)Hawaiian pizzaAnd Choco Pies for dessertKim, rice, and bulgogi wrap down the hatch!Hideaway was unusually busy for a Sunday evening, and I had to sit at a table instead of the bar when I first arrived.
And after my time at Hideaway, I kept my promise and dropped by to see Aine, the new old girl at Wet Spot.
She’s still looking good for 40-something.I also passed by the Catholic church, which was in full swing at the start of Holy Week. The sidewalk in front is lined with vendors selling, you guessed it, palm leaves. I don’t really know the significanceof palms and Easter week, but it seems pretty important to the folks of faith here.
It is Hash Monday for me, so I need to prepare myself for that adventure. Hopefully, it goes as well as yesterday did for me.
…so are the days of our lives. Not to mention the women.
I had an interesting chat with Nerissa (the Cheap Charlies girl I fancied if you are keeping track) yesterday. Here’s the cut and paste from Messenger:
Nerissa: Haven’t seen u for a while
Me: Well, wasn’t sure I was welcome there anymore…
Nerissa: It’s fine if u don’t want to go… Just want to say hi to you is fine..haha..maybe your other girl will see u here..haha..not a good move…
Me: I don’t have another girl…and honestly, I had my eyes opened to the fact that I’m better off alone.
Nerissa
If that’s the best for u, then go for it…
Me: Yeah, I don’t deal well with rejection these days…
Nerissa
That’s normal, I guess
Me: Especially when you get older. Takes too long to recover.
Nerissa: It depends if a person is serious…If he is not serious, I guess he gives up easily.
Me: Maybe so. In fact, that was the message I received when you unfriended me…
Nerissa: Correct
Me: Thanks; I appreciate your honesty.
So, the joke was on me all along…she was never serious, so blowing me off was easy. But as I said before, she did me a favor. No need to waste time and energy on a drama queen who doesn’t value me. And it led me to begin to learn to embrace the comfort and safety that comes with being a “player.”
How’s that working out for me so far? Well, there’s Mary. I enjoy her company, but one night a week is plenty for me. The age gap is real, but at least she has enough intellectual curiosity to occasionally make for an interesting drinking companion. I did get a chuckle on Friday when our waitress at Thumbstar asked Mary if I was her boyfriend. She responded, not really. The waitress said, “more like a sugar daddy?” and Mary replied, “kinda.” To be clear, we are not in a “pay for play” situation; I don’t think either of us wants that. She doesn’t ask me for money but will tell me when I ask what she needs to make her studies go smoother. This week I sprang for the internet at her house, which facilitates her ability to research for papers and other homework. So far, I’m comfortable with our informal arrangement.
I see Joy at Hideaway on Wednesday and Sunday. I know she’d like to visit me at home on her day off (Thursday), but so far, I’ve resisted. She’s a sweetie, but I just don’t feel the urge to take things further, especially in exchange for money.
Then there’s my mountain momma friend, MJ. I’ve been providing support for her and her kids since her ex-husband died last year. That’s with no strings attached; she’s one of my charity projects. Once a month or so, she wants to give me a massage for extra money. She’s good at it, and it usually ends happily, so I’m receptive. She’d probably be an excellent taking care of you kind of girlfriend, but not much good at conversation.
Another bargirl friend I enjoy spending time with is Jen, a waitress at Whiskey Girl. She’s a natural-born snuggler, and I do enjoy a nice cuddle now and then. Might be the least physically attractive of the gals I drink with, but she’s quick with a laugh and fun to be around.
Lovely, especially on the inside, Jen
And last night, I got a message from Aine telling me she is back to work at Wet Spot after being absent for several months. I plan to drop in to say hello again tonight.
Anyway, it’s not the life I imagined I’d have, but it’s the one I’ve got, and I’m planning to enjoy it as long as possible. Who knew embracing emptiness could be so fulfilling?
Despite the disconnect with Nerissa I described above, I decided to make a return visit to Cheap Charlies to start my evening out. Nerissa sat down on my left, and I politely greeted her. Alma sat on my right and stroked my arm and shoulder. Some other gal sat behind me and rubbed my back. I enjoyed my beer and watched the world go by with only occasional interaction with Alma. I wasn’t inclined to purchase a lady drink for someone who had just admitted I was nothing to them, but so as not to be rude, I didn’t buy anyone a drink. As I suspected, Nerissa and the other gal moved on after I ordered my second beer. Once they were gone, I bought a drink for Alma. I guess I sent a message too.
Proceeding with my bar crawl, I decided to pop into Annex bar for a visit. This is another place I almost never visit, but they’ve recently made a significant change–they opened up the front of the building and made it into an open-air bar–my favorite kind.
It’s across the highway from It Doesn’t Matter. I enjoyed sitting there sipping on a cold San Mig Zero and watching the world go by. I’ll likely be back for more one day soon.
Since I didn’t do the SOB this week, I didn’t have any coupons. But Whiskey Girl is offering a “buy one, get one” promo every day from 5 p.m. until 8:00. That’s a pretty damn good deal, and I decided to take advantage of it and enjoy some snuggle time with Jenn.
As I passed my Mango’s,I had to shake my head at this–it is so Filipino. The motorbikes completely block the entranceway. I *might* have been able to squeeze my fat belly between the parked cars on the other side. Luckily, I didn’t have to try because Mango’s wasn’t my destination.Oh, and see that little white sign in the background? It says, “please don’t block the entrance”
I enjoyed my time at Whiskey Girl. Queen Victoria is right across the street, so I decided to make that my nightcap venue. My old favorite Irish and my new favorite Rein were both in attendance and joined me at the bar. I noted that Rein had not accepted my FB friend request, and she said her account was “blocked.” Whatever. Irish took my phone and sent herself a friend request from me, but as of this morning, she has not accepted it either. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a Facebook fetish about making bargirls friends, but it is a simple indicator of whether they see you as a customer/drink provider or potentially something more. I just like to know where I stand; it doesn’t change anything.
When I got home, I was excited about my post-drinking snack awaiting my arrival in the fridge.
I bought a pricey slice of pumpkin pie at Sit-n-Bull after my morning hike. $2.25!I popped it in the microwave and prettied it up with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Yum! Slept like a baby last night.
On one of the forums I visit, I came across this post-mortem from someone who saw the bus-jeepney accident scene.
We were stuck in the n/b traffic jam and it took about 20 minutes to reach the accident scene.
From what I saw, It appears that the white van either suddenly stopped in front of, or suddenly pulled out in front of the s/b bus. The bus was most assuredly speeding as usual.
The bus hit the van from behind, knocking it out of the way, and went out of control traveling across the center line and into the n/b jeepney.
The bus struck the jeepney just behind the driver and as you can see from the extreme damage, the poor student sitting directly behind the driver was mortally injured. In one of the video’s going around you can see blood spurting from his carotid with each heartbeat.
It’s a shame there were too many videographers instead of someone to help by applying direct pressure to his carotid. Filipinos are professional bystanders/gawkers…
Someone commented that brain matter was visible but I couldn’t tell from the video I watched. In that case, first aid may not have saved this guy if his skull was cracked open but if I was present I would have tried.
It’s a shame, R.I.P.
I mentioned in a recent post a man named Karl who hikes the hills and dales in these parts alone, despite being in his late 70s. Quite the inspiration. Anyway, he posted some cool pictures of Barretto from a webpage he has of Barretto back when it was nothing more than a Navy rifle range.
Barretto before it was BarrettoEverything changes
I survived my scouting expedition to the top of Easter mountain this morning. I’ll tell that story tomorrow with a slew of pictures from the climb. I’ll also feed the girls at Hideaway tonight, so we can see Joy enjoying whatever she puts in her mouth.
Only three for the Friday group hike yesterday, and we made it our mission to conquer Black Rock mountain. Mission accomplished!
A 6.5k trek up and over the Black RockMy fellow travelers, Stuart and RobOff we go!Up the National HighwayAnd into the Santa Monica subdivisionOn the streets of Santa MonicaOut onto the Govic HighwayThe road to the rockHeading upAnd upOn top of Black RockThe village of St. James in CalapacuanA hazy day, but that’s Barretto off in the distance and Alta Vista on the hill to the left.The valley our downward path will take us toHeading downAnd down. When dry, the rocks aren’t slippery; thank goodnessA brief stop for a cookie deliveryDown in the valleyA recent burn. ‘Tis the season which explains the haze in the airI’ll be helping to scout a trail tomorrow for the Easter Monday Hash climb up Easter MountainHeading back to Alta Vista, where the trail ended for me
You can Relive the walk here if you so desire:
https://www.relive.cc/view/vAOZo4dXwy6
A nice hike on a warm day, satisfying my walkaholic urges. A few hours later, it was time to quench my alcoholic thirst. Mary wanted to visit some new bars (to her) with me. So, we met up at Sloppy Joe’s and went from there. While I waited for her arrival, I enjoyed the company of Chris, and his gal, who usually hangs out at It Doesn’t Matter. Both have that street-view outdoor ambiance I prefer. Mary arrived and had a couple of gin and soda drinks; then we moved on to Outback.
Outback has an indoor and a poolside bar; I opted for the beach seats.
Beer with a viewAnd some fish and chips for dinner
I next took Mary to a bar I’ve only visited twice since it opened named Luxe. It’s actually a very nice bar with some sexy dancers, but for whatever reason, it is just not my kind of place. We stayed for one drink; then, we moved a few doors down to Thumbstar.
Now, I’m not a regular at Thumbstar, either. It also has dancers, but most of them are fat and unattractive. Still, with their Friday night buy-one-get-one deal, it’s not a bad place to chill and enjoy the atmosphere. Mary thought the music was too loud, but the waitress claimed she wasn’t authorized to turn down the sound. We wound up staying anyway since the drinks were so cheap. Mary and the waitress did tequila shots together, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.
Got back home before nine, made up a batch of smoothies, then hit the hay. I woke up with Mary beside me (sleeping in her dress) and let her sleep in while I went about my morning routine. She woke in time to do the dog walk. I made her a breakfast of meatballs (leftover from the other night) with corn on the cob and garlic bread. Who says you can’t improvise in the morning?
After the meal, I walked Mary to the highway, and she caught a Jeep back home. I did my standard Saturday solo walk, which took me past the scene of yesterday’s accident. To my surprise, the Jeepney was still on the side of the road.
I didn’t take this photo. Guys were working to salvage parts when I walked by, so I didn’t bother. I have learned that the guy behind the Jeepney driver was killed, and you can see why from the damage. I suspect he was the one who was bleeding out in the video I posted yesterday.
And that brings y’all pretty much up to date on my so-called life.
I don’t have a drinking problem. I drink, I get drunk, I fall down. No problem!
No real surprises at the ENT doctor visit yesterday. Put the scope up my nose, shook his head with a tsk tsk sound, and said the blockage was stage four–complete. He prescribed some steroid medication which might result in some shrinkage, but surgery to remove the polyps is really the only option.
So, we discussed what was involved in getting the surgical procedure. Dr. Tolentino confirmed that I would have to be completely anesthetized during the operation. I would also have to be admitted to St. Jude’s hospital for an overnight stay after the surgery.
That’s St. Judes on the right. Very small for a hospital, but it has a good reputation.
Doctor Tolentino won’t be available for two weeks, and in the interim, I’m supposed to get cleared by a cardiologist that I can safely undergo the procedure. I’m still not comfortable with the idea of being put to sleep, especially with my COPD issues. I’m also not wanting to be confined to a hospital room overnight. I’m considering a third opinion from the highly rated Clark Medical City in Angeles. I’m also toying with the idea of leaving the country for the surgery. Stay tuned.
Like a good ENT, Dr. Tolentino checked my ears and throat during my visit. He removed a clump of wax from my right ear that was as big as a fingernail. Hmm, maybe that was causing my deafness.
Another doctor at the clinic I visited. Based on her name, I imagine amputation is her favorite procedure. I hope she doesn’t lose her head during surgery.
After the doctor’s visit, I took a trip to Seoul. That’s my favorite Korean restaurant in these parts, located on the old Navy base.
My driver, Danny, and my helper, Teri, along with Mary, who had asked to come along for the ride to the doctor, joined me for the meal.The side dishes.The meat on the grillAnd my bulgogi stew. Yum!
When we got back home, I took a nap, and Mary joined me. That was nice. Later in the afternoon, we walked to Baloy beach and visited the floating bar. I stuck with my beer diet, and Mary experimented with different mixed drinks, gin and soda, and then a margarita.
Some of the crew on the floating bar. Not very many customers yesterday, but lots of girls. Seems they have been doing some hiring since my last visit.
I didn’t actually enjoy this visit to the floater as much as I had previously. They were blaring the music so loud I couldn’t even hear Mary talking right next to me. I asked them to turn it down some, which they did, but I noticed the volume increased little by little as time went on. I had two beers and headed for shore.
Next stop, Johan’s. Mary continued her drink smorgasbord with a Tom Collins and then a Bloody Mary. She said she had never had a Bloody Mary before, and I challenged her, saying she has one monthly. Yeah, I’m a funny guy. Mary was surprised at how spicy it was and needed a bottle of water to stop the burning in her mouth.
When it was time to move on, we took a stroll down the beach to McCoy’s. I ordered her an apple beer while she was in the CR, and she was surprised because it was just what she wanted. Well, it had to be better than the Bloody Mary, and McCoy’s doesn’t serve mixed drinks, so it was an easy call.
We were able to enjoy the sunset from McCoy’s before the dreaded, but inevitable, videoke singing started. That’s always a good sign for me that it is time to go.
I put Mary in a trike for home, but I wasn’t through just yet. That’s one of the benefits of beer consumption; my staying power is elongated. I popped into Snackbar for a couple of drinks with my old bargirl friends, including Lydell. She had seen me walking earlier with Mary but only asked about the floating bar. Yep, I’m proudly flaunting my player reputation these days!
I still wasn’t quite ready to call it a night, and I had a “buy one, get one coupon” to exploit before its expiration, so I made a rare visit to Queen Victoria, the nearest SOB bar to my current location. And that’s where I met Rein. Well, I had met her before. She briefly worked at the old Dive In Bar, which is now Hideaway. She had also been involved in the ill-fated Posiden bar in Calapadayan that was out of business after a few months. Anyway, I had a great time getting reacquainted with her; she’s quite the conversationalist.
Or maybe I was just drunk. It was nice, though. Rein hasn’t accepted my FB friend request, so that might be a good indication of a lack of mutual interest–“I may be your destiny, but you’re not my gonna be.”
Two beers, two lady drinks, then home safe and sound.
Speaking of Facebook, Nerissa from Cheap Charlies sent me a new friend request, and I accepted it. Of course, it’s a little too little and a little too late. Happy to be her friend again and feel comfortable returning to Cheap Charlies occasionally, but she has shown me a side of her character that foretells the drama that would come with a relationship. No, thank you! Or maybe I should thank her for teaching me to embrace being the player she thought I was.
And the Facebook memories feature reminded me just how damn happy I was to be living the Itaewon life back in 2006.
At least I eventually gave up the tobacco. Although the damage was already done.
But things can certainly always be worse.
That car from Wednesday night’s accident was still on the street this morning. Lots of damage. And when I looked inside, I saw the driver’s airbag had deployed. When I returned later from my Fridayhike, a tow truck had finally arrived.
Speaking of accidents, there was a bad one this morning on the National Highway in downtown Barretto. I didn’t witness it, but someone sent me a video, and it was pretty gruesome. I understand the bus driver was killed, and many passengers in the Jeepney were severely injured.
So, the stupid bus driver (may he rest in peace) attempted to pass on the wrong side of the busy highway and collided with the Jeepney head-on. That’s always my nightmare when I’m riding in a Jeepney. I try and turn off my imagination to all that could possibly go wrong.Here’s the video of the aftermath. Be warned; it’s bloody!
Alright, well, let me leave you with something to cleanse your palate before I go. This is a children’s video, and it is hilarious when viewed in context.
Just over a minute long, but you’ll get the gist in the first 30 seconds or so.
I guess that’s about enough for one day’s reading here at LTG. I’m skipping the SOB tonight and escorting Mary on her continued journey of exploration in the bars of Barretto. We’ll start the night in Sloppy Joe’s and take it from there. Back tomorrow with a full report.
I have a doctor’s appointment at 11 a.m. and a meet-up with Mary in the afternoon, so I’m going to do my daily post about yesterday this morning. And I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.
The Wednesday Walkers, all three of us, made the trek out to the far side of Naugsol in Scott’s car. We don’t get out this way very often due to a lack of transportation options, but with our small turnouts of late, a single vehicle is all that’s needed.
Where we walked. About 6.5K when we were done.My fellow hikers, Ed and ScottLet’s do this!It’s probably only 5K further out than my regularwalks, but the scenery is different, and it has a whole other vibe for some reason.And we ran into a locally famous hiker named Karl doing his own trek from the opposite direction. I have nothing but respect and admiration for Karl. He is in his late 70s and does these amazing historical hikes (like abandoned mines, military battlefields, etc.) that are long, challenging, and little traveled. And he goes it alone. Well done, sir!Kids at the local sari-sari storeA military checkpoint in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure if there are insurgents in the area; I’ve never heard of any issues out this way.A powerful tower!Time to cross the riverThat’s one way to do it.The headwaters of the Matain river…Resting on a shady rockDo you see what I see?Marching on the old dirt roadThese native Aeta children were happy for some cookies.As were this shy mother and childFollow the leaderThe path less takenNature’s handrailThe village of AlibangChildren of the villageThe village church and schoolhouseThe final cookie delivery for the dayRoad workFinishing our hike in the shadow of Easter mountain
I really enjoyed this excursion, one of the best of our recent efforts.
There was still more to do, of course, including my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull, so I put it to work:
The night’s menu: fried chicken, chicken fingers, shanghai lumpia, and lasagna with mashed potatoes and garlic bread for Joy. Oh, with brownies for dessert.Garlic bread down the hatchA swallow of potatoes…
The beer flowed freely, as did the lady drinks, some friendly interactions with the other patrons, and a nice relaxing evening in my Hideaway.
I was sober enough to do a nightcap across town at Whiskey Girl, where I enjoyed two for the price of one beer and snuggle time with Jenn.
The dancers put on a nice show for me as well.
I’d call it a good day. Better than this guy had:
This is right down the street from my house. It was like this last night when I came home, and it was still there this morning on my dog walk. Looking at it, I can’t imagine what went wrong, but maybe he just made the left turn a bit too soon.
Yesterday was Vietnam Vets Day, in case you missed it. This tribute is pretty spot-on regarding how my feelings about the war evolved over time. Whatever your opinion about the rationale for engaging in that conflict, the young people who fought it deserve nothing but respect. I encourage you to give it a read.
The doctor’s visit today is about my blocked sinuses and to consult about the surgery that is likely required to resolve the issue. Hopefully, I’ll have good news to report tomorrow in that regard.
Just another Tuesday in paradise. I made my grocery shopping excursion to Royal and wasn’t disappointed…higher prices and more items out of stock—the new normal.
I did get this box of Raisin Bran for 50% off (regular price $4.80). When I got home, I took a closer look and saw that the “use by” date is March 29. Oops! I’ll eat them anyway. What could go wrong?
My mountain friend came and gave me one of her special massages, leaving me panting for breath at the end. That gave me a chance to try out my new portable bedside nebulizer.
It must have worked; I’m still alive.
When beer o’clock (I can say that again!) rolled around, I decided to start with some food and headed over to John’s place.
I was in a pulled pork kind of mood.Watching the sun as I dined.
After my meal, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers. I was waiting for 6:00 p.m. to arrive so I could use my 500 peso voucher at Hot Zone. I must say, the lineup of dancers last night was the best I’ve seen in quite some time. Owner Jay joined me at my table and brought a couple of dancers down from the stage to join us. There was another group in the bar with several other dancers at their table. That only left two girls on stage, and I felt kind of sorry for them, so I asked Jay if I should have them join us too. He thought that was a fine idea and instructed me on the Hot Zone way to invite a girl down:
“Stand beside the stage. Rub your hands together. The girl will come over to you and pull her top down. Gently rub her breasts, and then she will come to your table.”
That’s just what I did with both of them, and it worked like a charm! They each ordered double lady drinks (shame on me for not specifying otherwise), but since I had seen and touched their boobs, I guess they earned the extra commission.
In keeping with my newly instituted “drink responsibly” policy, I had reached my limit and it was time to bill out and go home. My beers did not exceed the 500 pesos credit on my voucher, but the two lady drinks totaled 600 pesos. So, once again, my coupon wound up costing me money. Oh, well. I’m rarely at Hot Zone, and I did enjoy me some eye candy. I’d say it was worth it.
Another night of getting home before 8:00 p.m. and being asleep before 9. I really need to stretch that out some, I think. Keeping everything else in balance, of course. I don’t want to fall into more bad habits.
Feeding night at Hideaway tonight to look forward to. A very nice Wednesday Walkers hike on the far side of Naugsol this morning I’ll post about tomorrow.
As always, thanks for coming by. It’s bound to get better.
I’m still here. So far. I hope the transition to the new host goes smoothly.
I don’t much care for the Hare for yesterday’s trail. It was a hotter than usual afternoon. The trail started halfway up Rizal Extension, which made it a pain in the ass to get to for me. Which is why I said fuck it and made my own trail. Actually, I met up with Scott, whose healing ankle wasn’t up for a mountain climb, and did a street walk with him. At the end of our hike, we had a late lunch/early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.
I did the chimichangas.
After our meal, we walked up the street to the VFW for the Hash circle. I got called out for a Hash crash and was required to sit on the ice for my non-Hash-related drunken tumble on Friday night. That’s okay.
After the Hash circle, I joined the group at It Doesn’t Matter for some more beers. I was mindful of my inebriation level and departed prior to reaching the danger zone. It feels good to be back in control!
Hopefully, it will be a more normal Hash adventure next week with pictures and everything.
While I’m at it and still can, here’s the lowdown from last night’s feeding at Hideaway.
As usual, Sunday dinner came from Jewel Cafe. Chef salad, egg fried rice, ten chicken wings, and seven orders of pork sisig.
A couple of the feeders…And the star of the show
I behaved myself, confining myself to San Mig Zero beer. I had several but didn’t cross the line. As I was walking down the highway contemplating my nightcap venue, once again, a trike driver called me by name and wanted to take me home. Upon reflection, I decided that was my best option, so I took it.
So, hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with a post about today’s Hash.
Until we meet again, I trust I won’t be a Long Time Gone.
I set up a new hosting service with an outfit called Bluehost. I hope the migration goes well, would hate to lose 18 years of blogging history. The domain should activate within hours; moving the history might take a week.
I checked reviews, and Bluehost is supposed to be good, especially for WordPress blogs like mine. But whatever is wrong with Hostgator these past few days is bad enough, but their non-responsive customer “service” was inexcusable.
My other big thrill this morning was dealing with my Chase credit card account. I had cleaned my cookies in an effort to resolve the blog issues, and Chase no longer recognized my device, so I needed to enter a verification code. No big deal; in the past, they have always emailed the code. This time that was not an option; it had to be by phone. Except they had an old phone number from the USA. So, I had to call them, and that was a nightmare. When I finally got through, the person I was speaking with disconnected. When I got through again, a security question asked me what was my address in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Um, I lived there in 1982, and that’s about all I remember. A follow-up question was, who did my mortgage on a house in South Carolina? Does anyone remember crap like that? I don’t. Like I told the agent, I’m lucky to remember my name these days. Oh well, we finally got it resolved, and I have access to my account again. The first thing I did was update my phone number. They can contact me next time.
I’ve had no luck contacting Hostgator’s alleged 24-hour chat help desk. And the accessing my blog issues continue. I mean, I can eventually get back online, but it takes several tries. No idea what the problem is. Anyway, I’ve decided to move to a new blog host service. Not sure how long the migration takes at this point, but if I’m offline, don’t panic; I’ll be back!
Shouldn’t be down for more than a few hours I’m told.
I made it through my miserable hangover day. It reminded me of my COVID symptoms: no energy, light-headed, and without appetite. I took a day off from walking and just lazed around the house, napping off and on. By the time evening rolled around, I was feeling marginally better, so I ventured out to see what Saturday night held in store for me.
I kicked things off at It Doesn’t Matter, and waitresses Agnes and Juliet immediately noticed that something was off with me, And not just because I ordered a San Mig Zero instead of gins and soda. They commented on my wounds, and I had to tell the story of my sordid encounter with gravity the night before. I took my time downing two cold bottles (3% alcohol and 60 calories each), then decided I needed to have my first meal of the day.
IDM no longer serves food, but the Hops and Brews beer garden seemed like a good option, so off I went. I hadn’t been here since my first date with Lydell, but I couldn’t hold the restaurant responsible for that failed attempt at a relationship. Hops and Brews is a beer connoisseur’s dream with draft and bottled brews from around the world. I just wanted to stick with my new old favorite, Zero, but alas, that’s one brand they don’t carry. I had to settle for a San Miguel Light (5% alcohol and 100 calories) to wash down my tasty sweet and sour pork dinner. One beer here and out.
Next stop, BarCelona. Two Zeros consumed as I enjoyed the view of my former hangout, Cheap Charlies. My eyes are not good enough to make out faces from that distance, but the bar didn’t seem very busy. I wonder if the gals there are missing me my lady drinks largesse? Sorry seems to be the hardest word, right, Nerissa?
I’m happy to report that my drinking low-alcohol beer slowly strategy seemed to be working quite well. I wanted to finish my night at the scene of my crime, Wet Spot, to see if I had engaged in any behaviors that warranted an apology. Both my waitress, Irene, and owner, Dave, assured me that while I appeared to be having a good time, I had not been rude or otherwise obnoxious. Dave even bought me a beer!
So, after eight beers on the night, I went home with a light buzz but no discernable physical impairment. That’s always the goal. My Fitbit tells me I fell asleep at 8:40 p.m. and awoke at 3:47 a.m. That’s a tad early on both ends, but it suits me better than waking up on the floor, that’s for sure.
I am happy to report that I’m feeling back to normal today.
My facial wounds (forehead, under the eye, and under the nose) appear to be healing fine.
I did a 7K walk this morning that went well despite my being a little winded towards the end. Coincidentally, as I concluded my hike, I saw a sign for a new funeral parlor:
That’s a perfect name, as I’m sure their clients will indeed be breathless.
And I got a message from one of my former employees, Sherry Villanueva, and she sent me this photo of those long ago days when I was her boss in Korea.
That’s probably from around 2006 or so. I was not the Director yet but in charge of employee and labor relations. I hired Sherry as one of my staffers.
My favorite story about Sherry came immediately after I hired her. I interviewed by telephone, so I had never seen her before. She was the most qualified, so she’s the one I picked. I never gave a crap about EEO and their “underrepresentation” stats. I picked the best person for the job and didn’t care what color they were. Still, I assumed with a name like “Villanueva,” she was Hispanic, and EEO would tick off that box. I was surprised to get an email from EEO congratulating me on meeting my Pacific Islander goal. Yep, Sherry is a Filipina. What a world.
Anyway, Sherry only worked for me for a couple of years before starting a new job in the USA. We remained Facebook friends but very rarely had any contact. And now, she is returning to Korea to my old job as the Director, Human Resources Management for USFK/8th Army. Congratulations, and good luck to her! It’s great to see someone you mentored become such a success.
And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
UPDATE: I’m not sure if everyone is having the same issues I and at least one of my readers are having accessing my blog. I’ve tried to contact HostGator to see what the issue is but have not had any success with that either. The issue seems to come and go, so check back later if, at first, you don’t succeed.
The drunk SOB I’m referring to. I don’t remember taking this selfie or much of anything else.
Gin and her pal Soda were accessories to the crime. Mary was a witness, and I guess that’s a good thing; otherwise, I’d have no recollection of what happened. Actually, I don’t recall much about my attendance at the SOB, but I must have had a good time. When the show was over, Mary and I took a trike back to my house. She said that I tripped and fell on my face when I exited the trike. The trike driver tried to help Mary get me back on my feet; then, a passing motorcyclist stopped to assist. I woke up on the floor of my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what the fuck happened. Mary filled in the gaps, and from what she describes, I don’t know that I’ve ever been drunker. I know the hangover I’m suffering from today is one of the worst I’ve experienced.
So, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to give up drinking. Gin. That’s right; beer belly be damned, I’m going back to Zero from now on. The trouble with hard alcohol drinks for me is I can’t monitor my level of inebriation–one minute, I’m fine; the next, I’m over the line. With beer, especially a low-alcohol beer like Zero, I can drink until I’m ready to stop without getting falling down drunk. I mean, I like a nice relaxing buzz, but I hate losing control of my mind and body. I’ve had two falls now on Gin, and it is just not worth pushing my luck.
In other news, we had a pleasant Friday group hike. Only four of us and we did the My Bitch trail from end to end.
Right around 8K with one climb.Gathering at the startAnd we’re off!Up the steps in shanty townIt was a hot day, and the shade felt goodCome on up, Anne!A shady spot to wait for the stragglers.BarrettoBaloyKalaklan RidgeTaking in the viewGrassy summitThat’s Rizal Extension down belowEaster mountain. Looks like I’ll be one of the Hares for the traditional Easter Monday climb to the top.Getting it doneBack down on Rizal ExtensionLooking back up at where we’d been
The day started better than it ended, that’s for sure!
Thursday is the day I make my weekly visit to the floating bar on Baloy. I really do enjoy the ambiance and gentle swaying on the water as I sip my gin and soda.
I should probably visit more often, but maybe the “only once in a while” aspect adds to the enjoyment.
Before the floating bar was relaunched, I got my sand and foam fix satiated at McCoy’s beach bar. I felt a little guilty about not being back since the floater option was available, so I resolved to pay a visit once I was back ashore.
The view from McCoy’sAnd the view from my barstool
I would have preferred a seat with a better water view, but the late afternoon setting sun was shining brightly on that section of the bar. I was feeling a little hungry, but the only thing I saw on the menu that resonated was the chicken burger. Naturally, I got the “sorry sir, out of stock” response from the waitress. Ah, well. They don’t serve individual gin and soda drinks (you have to buy the bottle and drink shots Filipino style), so I was drinking San Miguel Light (no Zero beer either). Two of those, and I was off to find a more suitable venue for my dining and drinking needs.
I was a little buzzed at this point but still wanted to walk off those beer calories, so I did the jaunt from Baloy to mid-town Barretto.
As I passed Whiskey Girl, the manager, Mark, was seated outside, and we chatted a bit. Then he presented me with a VIP card for an upcoming customer appreciation party. I can drink for free with the card between 5–6 p.m. on April 27th. Woo Hoo! Thanks, Mark!
Further up the road, Mugshots was open, so I popped in to let them know they had missed out on the brownies I had prepared especially for them. As I suspected, they advised that their hours had changed, and now they don’t open until 6:00 p.m. I was the first and only customer, so I ordered my gin and soda and lady drinks for the three bar staff. The Mugshots menu has only a few items, but I don’t mind a small menu where everything is freshly prepared and done well. I went with the chicken wings.
They were delicious, as were the cole slaw and fries. Lots of wings too. I had enough left over for each of my companions to share in the bounty.
I enjoyed my visit to Mugshots, a comfortable and friendly place. I’ll be back. I might even bring some brownies with me.
I headed back out on the road searching for a nightcap venue and decided on Voodoo in keeping with my infrequently visited bars theme. There were a couple of people I knew at the back slapper’s table, and we exchanged greetings. My favorite dancer, an old-timer (literally in her 40s), Tia, was happy to see me after my long absence and joined me at my table for a lady drink. After a bit, I noticed the four remaining dancers on stage looked bored, and as I sometimes do, I wanted to give them a small tip in appreciation for their hard work. I asked my waitress to change two 100 peso notes into four 50s, and she returned saying they wouldn’t give me change. Hmm. You know, it’s no big deal, but it struck me as bad customer service and unfair to their employees. If I’m managing the bar, I send someone outside for change if need be, but that’s just me. It kind of killed my vibe, but I was probably under the influence of the alcohol I had already consumed, so I paid up and left. I grabbed a trike outside and was home and in bed before 9 p.m. Yep, that’s how I roll these days.
What else? Well, Facebook reminded me that one year ago, I took this photo of the house being constructed behind me:
And here is how it looks today. Still work being done, but the main construction appears complete. It doesn’t completely destroy my bay view, although I have to believe some type awning will be built over that rooftop patio. You can’t sit out there in the sun without one.
Oh, and remember that Philly cheesesteak sandwich photo from yesterday?
Didn’t taste any better than it looks
Well, today, John Kim of John’s Sushi and Steak fame posted on Facebook that his Philly cheesesteak sandwich is on special this week.
I can’t wait to taste the difference!
And I don’t do much politics these days, having learned that minds aren’t likely to be changed regardless, so what’s the point? I still see others who do, and the ensuing arguments are pretty sad to see. So, this seems to serve as an apt reminder to those who choose to engage in a war of words:
At least, that’s how I see it.
I’m planning on doing the SOB tonight, and it looks like Mary will be joining me for the event. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.
I looked all over San Antonio and didn’t find it. We did come across the Philippine Navy base, where we were detained during a Hash run back in 2019, but wisely did not breach the perimeter this time. The purpose of the trip to “not the one in Texas” was to scout potential Hash trails for an outstation run in May.
We did a 6K walk through primarily flat farmland, which will be fine for the easy trail. We’ll go back out in a couple of weeks to add a three or four-kilometer loop to satisfy the die-hard Hashers.The trail will begin and end at the FRA (Fleet Reserve Association). I really love the bar/restaurant here, especially the sweet and friendly waitresses.Hitting the road with my fellow invaders from BarrettoThe road that leads to the Navy base. Scott golfs here every week. It’s about an hour’s drive from Barretto.Helen is checking out whatever the hell that is drying in the sun.We turned left before reaching the gate to the base.A bridge is under construction, but in the meantime, it’s a question of balance. I skipped across the stones without a problem (this time).Scott said, “fuck that,” and waded across. Good to have Scott back up and hiking with us again.This big ol’ tree looked more amazing than I managed to capture in a photo.Helen provided some perspective on its size.We tried to follow the “river” as much as possible, but the path took its own course, and we went with the flow.I hope the resident won’t mind us hiking through the yard.I thought about making a corny joke, but that would be too eerie.Helen found the corn a maizeing(okay, I’ll stop)A path between the fieldsWhen you overcook the corn…Cookie time!Goats on a ropeFriendly localsHighway walkingAt the end of the trailA Philly cheesesteak sandwich for lunch. A little disappointing, truth be told.But I love this bar. I’ll be back for the annual FRAlics event next month.
Speaking of bars, the feeding at Hideaway went fine, although I really need to get my spending under control. The pizza was 890 pesos, Joy’s lasagna was 420 pesos, and the fried chicken was 500 pesos…that’s almost $40. My bar tab after a bunch of drinks for the ladies and me was another $50. Oh, well. You can’t take it with you, I suppose.
I guess the brownies were good too.
Hideaway was my first and last stop on the night. As I stumbled down the highway thinking about “where to next?” a trike driver pulled up and said, “Sir John, I’ll take you home now.” I figured my guardian angel must have sent it, so I hopped in and called it a night.
Not saying it was a bad day necessarily; just a little bit off. I supposedly had a doctor’s appointment with an ENT specialist in Olongapo at 8:30 a.m., but when I arrived, I was told the doctor wouldn’t be in until 11:00. Apparently, there was a miscommunication with my helper, who confused office hours with the doctor’s hours. The way it works with most physicians is you show up and are seen on a “first come, first served” basis. Bullshit. I’m not sitting around for a couple of hours to see a doctor–give me an appointment, and I’ll be there. I know, I know, take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. Hmm, nope, still not gonna do it.
Things didn’t get much better come evening time. The last time I visited Mugshots, the bartender said she was craving some of my brownies. I honestly didn’t recall ever bringing brownies there, but I promised her would bring some on a future visit. With nothing specific in mind for my night out, I set about keeping my word and baked up a batch. Now, I seem to recall that Mugshots opened late afternoon, so I was planning to share the brownies and try their food, which I’d seen receive positive reviews. I arrived around 5:00, and they were closed. Now what? I started to walk another block to Blue Butterfly but changed my mind. It’s not on my regular circuit, and I just wasn’t feeling it. Cheap Charlies seemed like a good fit, but I wanted to avoid the drama with Nerissa I experienced on my previous visit. Well, I decided that it was within my power to do so, and off I went. I honestly figured Nerissa wouldn’t bother to bother with me anyway.
As soon as I sat down, Nerissa came and sat next to me. I gave her a polite greeting and proceeded to ignore her. Once again, she didn’t express any regrets about ending our budding friendship so abruptly, and I really had nothing else to say to her (nor any poems to recite). After a bit, she took the hint and moved away to another stool. I had a couple of drinks alone (my other regulars weren’t working), then paid my tab and left. I still don’t understand the situation with her, and I’m a little pissed at myself for even caring. But whatever, I’m moving on.
I walk back to Mugshots, and they still aren’t open. Oh well, I guess it was just not meant to be brownie night there. I turn around and head up the highway, and figure The Green Room will be a place I can drink and order some grub from Sit-n-Bull. I’m far from a regular there, but it is still a friendly place. I order my drink and see that someone is having a birthday party, and the girls are all partaking in the cake. My poor brownies just can’t catch a break! The Sitn-n-Bull waitress arrives, and I decide to dine on a pork steak. I also get the waitresses in my section a pizza to share (cheaper than lady drinks!). I finish my food and drink(s), then me and my brownies depart.
Where to next? I had just been to Whiskey Girl the night before, but I figured Jenn would be a suitable recipient of my brownies gift. She was nowhere to be seen when I arrived, but another waitress fetched her for me. She said she had been eating, and I told her to go back and finish her meal. She refused and plopped down next to me. I told you she was sweet!
She seemed to enjoy my brownies as much as I enjoyed her snuggling.
I got a message from my pal Ron that he was going to Snackbar at 8:00. I responded that I’d had just about enough to drink, but I’d join him there for one on my way home. When I arrived, he wasn’t there. But my former love was, though. Cuddled up with her new husband. At least she took it outside, so it wasn’t in my face. I had a drink to drown my sorrows, bought one for my three favorites, then grabbed a trike for home.
What a day. Well, they all can’t be good ones, and I suppose it could have been worse. Hopefully, it will be a more pleasant experience feeding the girls at Hideaway tonight.
Oh, Facebook memories shared these photos I took of the National Highway in Barretto in March 2020:
Looking on the bright side of the scamdemic, at least it was easy to cross the road without the need to dodge trikes, jeepneys, and crazy drivers. Of course, there was no need to cross the street because every fucking thing had been shut down for the lockdown.
(With apologies to ZZ Top)
Hash shirt, hiking shoes
But I don't know where I'm goin' to
Fresh powder, bright chalk
And now I know where to walk
Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy about a well-marked trail
Steep hills, thick grass
But I ain't losin' my ass
Checkpoints, creek beds
But I'll keep movin' ahead
Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy 'bout a well-marked trail
Commenter Kevin asked for a post showing how a Hash trail is marked, so I will attempt to do so using yesterday’s trail as an example of a well-marked trail. The trail itself was overall the easiest I’ve done in recent memory. I forgot to turn on my tracker, but the Hare said the short trail was 4K. I finished in just over an hour, so I doubt it was actually that long.
The climb I did was of average difficulty and length, but damn, my poor old lungs were making me wonder if my days in the hills are numbered. I had to pause a couple of times to use my inhaler, but I finally made it to the top. After that, it was clear sailing without any issues. In fact, I was surprised to find myself at the proverbial end of the trail much sooner than I expected.
Let’s do it again through pictures, shall we?
The Hare, Yogini, did something a little unusual by demonstrating some of the markings we would encounter on the trail during the meet-up at the VFW.
So, you have the powder on the ground, which indicates you are on the trail. The chalk arrow points in the direction you should go, and the “1” confirms the marking is for the day’s trail, #1541. That’s important because we often encounter marks from previous Hashes, and without a number, you may follow an old trail. The circle with the “x” is a checkpoint. Some Hares will place a checkpoint when there is an intersection of trails. This requires the Hashers to explore the various options until they find the right path. If they come to the three lines, it means On-Back; you are on the wrong trail. You know you are on the right trail when you find a chalk or powder marker, which indicates you are “On-On!” I personally despise checkpoints and never incorporate them into my trails as a Hare.
The Hare provided last-minute guidance to the kennel at the VFW starting point.And we are On-On!A chalk arrow points the way.And the powder on the ground affirms you are indeed on the right trail.Ah, the dreaded checkpoint. The original intent and purpose of a checkpoint was to help close the gap between fast and slow Hashers. So, whoever got there first would explore the options, find the true trail, and then indicate the proper direction with a new chalk marking. That doesn’t happen here in the Subic Hash; it’s every Hasher for themself. And as the person who is perennially at the back of the pack, it just puts me further behind. I guessed right on my first try at this checkpoint, though.Powder on a tree…...and chalk on a rockDo you see the arrow?On-Up!Each step is one step closer to the top.By golly, I think we done it!My little townAn Easter mountain viewJust follow the powder, and you can’t go wrongOne of the factors I consider important to a well-marked trail is frequency and consistency. There should always be some kind of mark when there is more than one option, like at an intersection. I also like to see a mark at regular intervals (I think every 50 steps or so is good). If I haven’t seen a mark in a while, I know I must have missed the trail, so I can turn around and find it.Plodding alongThese kids seem to know when I’m coming…Let’s go thataway!As usual, the runners on the long trail passed me before I finished the short trail.Babes in the shadePowder AND an arrow…I like it!Made it to Alta VistaSeems clear enoughHard not to see that turnWe exited Alta Vista in an unusual way, climbing those steps up to the water tank, then coming back down through a squatter village.The view of Alta Vista from the water tank. That’s actually the street I live on down there.“Beer Near” is probably my favorite trail marking.I know the way from hereOn-Home at Johansson’sA gathering of HashersI had the chicken cordon bleu for my post-hike nourishmentHash GashCircle up!It’s nice on ice!A visiting Hasher from Puerto Galera is given a special Subic greetingWatching the festivitiesHere’s a useful tip: DO NOT wear new shoes to the Hash. Unless you want to drink out of them.Turns out, it was also our visitor’s birthday. Happy 28th, and enjoy the cake we made you!
After the Hash, I had some more beer at Sloppy Joe’s. I even bought Jamaica a lady drink. When I was walking back towards my end of town in search of a nightcap, I heard Jenn calling out to me from across the highway at Whiskey Girl. So, I got to finish the day with some cuddling. That’s always nice!
Here’s the original version of the song I re-wrote for this blog post:
Mary was making a cookie delivery to my house at 1:00 p.m., so I promised her lunch. I teased her with this photo because she professes to love corn dogs. But what she got was chili and cornbread. She seemed to love that too.My cookies for distribution to the kiddies I encounter on my hikes.
Mary joined me in the bedroom for dessert and a nap, then she left to make more deliveries, and I headed out for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.
I’ve made Jewel Cafe the headquarters for Sunday dinner. It’s reasonably priced, the girls seem to enjoy it, and best of all, they deliver. I just drop by on the way to Hideaway, place my order, and hit the street. Last night it was four orders of pork sisig, two orders of chicken quesadilla, two orders of chicken wings, and a pork chop for Joy. Since I’d been otherwise occupied all afternoon, I got a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts for the girl’s dessert.
pork sisigchicken wingsquesadillaI neglected to get a photo of the grilled pork chop, but here’s one of Joy biting a quesadilla.donuts for dessert
I sprang for a few lady drinks, got comped on a couple of mine, and had fifty dollar bar tab when I left (dinner was another thirty). That’s livin’ large, even by my standards, but like they say, you can’t take it with you when you go.
I was feeling no pain when I left Hideaway, but I didn’t let that stop me from dodging traffic on the highway as I made my way across town. I was thinking about Alaska but liked the idea of sitting outside at Sloppy Joe’s better.
As seen from my perch at Sloppy Joe’s. The girl on the right with her back to me is Jamaica. She used to work at Snackbar, and I was crushing on her at one time. She calls me Daddy, though, which I think is code for “you’re a fucking old man, leave me alone!” Her body language seems to be saying the same.
Alaska is right next door, so I made that my final destination for the night.
And as always, I enjoyed the beauty of Virginia. Maybe one of these days, I’ll explore more of Virginia.
I recently made a photographic appearance on an expat forum called PI@Night. “Exploring the PI with a focus on it’s colorful nightlife, from the expat and visitor perspective.”
Board members have an alias name, sort of like the Hash. I’m Walrus on PI@Night. Saturday night, we were all randomly together at the same table in Wet Spot. What are the odds?
Then a friend back in Seoul sent me a link to an old Flickr page of photos from the Seoul International Dart League. It was quite a stroll down memory lane with faces of people I hadn’t seen for many years. Here are a couple of my favorites:
Who’s that girl?Who’s that fat guy on the left?Where are they now? Last I heard, Dave was in Pennsylvania, Grant was in Baja California, and Alistair is in Scotland. The fat guy is in the Philippines and retired from darts.I really was having the time of my life back in those days (circa 2008). I’m not sure I appreciated that fact at the time, though. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the same thing now. These might well be the best days of my life. And really, at my age, every day of living is a gift.
And finally, there is this:
It may not look like much now, but this vacant lot at the corner of Baloy Road and the National Highway, will soon be the location of Barrio Barretto’s newest dining establishment. It’s actually part of a chain you might have heard of–McDonald’s.
Alright, it’s Hash Monday, and I need to grab a nap and then get ready to hike. I will be back with more excitement tomorrow. Assuming I have one.
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”
Stephen king
So, about last night. I hadn’t visited It Doesn’t Matter in quite some time, so I decided I’d start out there. I’m not sure why, but the vibe just felt different somehow, and not in a good way. Maybe it was just me. I decided to change things up with a visit to Cheap Charlies.
My longtime favorite, Alma, was back after taking time off to be with her visiting American boyfriend. She gave me a warm greeting and took my drink order. I was a little surprised when Nerissa pulled up a chair beside me. Well, she may not like me, but I guess earning a drink commission is still a priority. At first, I gave her a bit of a cold shoulder treatment, but after a couple of drinks, I lightened up some. I showed her a message I’d sent her after our last meeting that she hadn’t responded to, and she told me that’s not an active account. I reminded her I was blocked on the other one, and she just shrugged. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to recite some poetry from memory. This was the first one:
I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night. Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!
–Amy Lowell
The other girls seemed impressed. Nerissa just sat there with a blank expression. I don’t know why I can remember all the lines in a poem, but I am lucky to remember my name sometimes. Since I was on a roll, this poem came to mind:
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long forgotten snow.
–Sara Teasdale
Reciting poems in a bar with loud music in the background is a pretty foolish thing to do, and I was not quite drunk enough to continue the effort. But when Nerissa came back from the CR and sat down on the other side of me, I leaned over towards her so I could speak privately. Then I began reciting the Stephen King quote from above. Nerissa stopped me about halfway through and said, “why do you quote poems instead of just saying what’s on your mind?” I guess I realized then that I was wasting my breath on her, so I ceased the effort to determine if there was any friendship left to salvage.
I had ordered some food from the restaurant downstairs, and when it arrived, I shared it with my bargirl crew.
Lumpia, chicken fingers, and wings.The crew. You can see how happy Nerissa is to see me.It might be time to find a different venue with less drama.
I departed Cheap Charlies, crossed the highway, and pulled up a chair in Wet Spot. I spent some time with owner Dave and met a couple of new folks. I must have overdosed on gin and sodas because I’d forgotten all about seeing Mary’s school friend, a dancer at Wet Spot until I uploaded the photos from my phone camera this morning.
I can recite a poem off the top of my head, but I can’t remember her name.I had noticed her long before I met Mary. I think she is amazing looking.I guess she is sending me a message here–is it “fuck you!” or “fuck me?”
Whatever. Even though I’m embracing the mantle of “player,” I wouldn’t mess around with the friend of someone I’m seeing. I don’t recall doing anything to piss her off, and I assume I bought her a lady drink, but who knows? The look on her face doesn’t convey a “nice to see you” vibe.
I made it home safe and sound, and we’ll see what happens next. Mary has a little sideline business selling snack foods, and I ordered some cookies to hand out on my hikes. She is supposed to be delivering them to me this afternoon. Then, later on, I’ll do the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.
Started with a 7k valley walkThree hiking companions joined in the funEaster mountain, as seen from the valley floorDirectionless.We went thatawayFarm living
I mentioned in yesterday’s post that Mary wanted to join me when she finished an after-school event. She sent me these photos:
Some sort of pageant for International Women’s MonthIt appears to have been well-attended.One of the participantsAnd anotherMary paid (well, technically, I did) to have her make-up done for the eventI’d actually never seen Mary in make-up before she sent these photos. And she washed it all off before meeting me in Barretto.Although she looks fine without it too
I had planned to start my night out at Cheap Charlies. And on a whim, I’d even baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls there. But as I walked into town, I decided I didn’t want to have any drama around Nerissa, so I set a course for Hideaway instead. I know they like my brownies there. Everyone was surprised to see me come in on a Friday night, especially Joy. So, the brownies were dispensed, some lady drinks were purchased, and I, of course, downed some gin and sodas. And then Mary messaged that she was on her way, so I said farewell to the Hideaway crew and headed out.
I was ready for some food, and since John’s place was in close proximity, I told Mary to meet me there. We headed upstairs together, ordered some drinks (we both do the gin and soda combo now), and perused the menu. Mary professed not to be that hungry, so I ordered the beef bulgogi for us to share and an order of Korean-style chicken wings. The bulgogi comes with rice, and to my surprise, Mary said she doesn’t like rice. She’s the first Asian I’ve met who feels that way. So, I substituted the rice with cole slaw.
The bulgogi. Mary loved it.And eight chicken wings. They were good, but we had four leftovers, and I gifted them to our waitress.And the star of the show.
After our meal, I took Mary to Bar Barretto to hear some live music. Alas, the band was not due to start for another hour, so we went next door to Mugshots instead. It’s a cozy little bar I haven’t been to for quite a while. We were the only customers, and Mary and the bartender chatted away in Tagalog. Mary told me later that the bartender mentioned she was only the second woman she had seen me with (the other being my long-ago ex, Marissa). I guess that makes me a part-time player. But it also goes to show that gossip amongst the gals is a really big thing in these parts.
I’d had my fill of alcohol by now, so we took a trike back to my place. I made us a smoothie, and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Mary in the wee hours of the morning. She woke up too, and was feeling frisky. A nice way to start the day!
I baked some banana-walnut muffins to go with our morning coffee; then, it was time to walk the dogs.
The boys seem to enjoy Mary’s company as much as I do, and she also seems rather fond of them.
After the walk, I made us a breakfast burrito (well, it was my regular burrito, I just served it for breakfast). That went down well, too. Mary took the TV remote and started playing some tunes on the YouTube channel. I commented on the fact that the music she was enjoying was older than she was. She agreed, saying that music from her generation was too crude for her taste, and she preferred hearing the songs her grandparents had played.
When it was time to go, I told Mary she could join me at the Savers Appliance store and pick out a refrigerator for her house. She was, of course, pleasantly surprised. One thing that I appreciate about Mary is that she doesn’t ask for or seem to expect cash from me. I don’t give her money after our dates because I don’t like the feeling of our time together being on a quid pro quo basis. I was happy to gift her a fridge I knew she needed, knowing it would make her life a little easier.
While we were shopping at Savers, Mary’s grandmother, who lives nearby, came to the store to see Mary and meet me.
Two things stand out–the grandmother is actually YOUNGER than me! And, of course, her dark skin.
If I recall the story correctly, the grandmother’s father is an African-American Navy vet who was stationed here in the 1960s. It’s a funny world.
The shopping experience at Savers was not very pleasant because everything took forever to process, and none of it made any sense to me. Mary reminded me to remain calm and remember that I was in the Philippines. Of course, yes, I needed to accept the Filipino way. In addition to the refrigerator, I bought Mary a microwave oven. That should make her kitchen time more convenient too.
I will give Savers credit for prompt delivery.Enjoy your new appliances!
Oh, Mary told me that her grandmother had asked her three times now if I was her boyfriend. Mary told her, “not yet,” which was something of a relief. I told Mary I’m not into labels like “BF/GF and all the baggage and expectations that come with those terms. I said I have enjoyed her company and spending time with her, and that was enough for me. She put a heart emoji on that comment, so hopefully, we are on the same page. Hey, I’m a “player,” after all; I can’t go around calling someone my girlfriend!