Or at least pretending like I am.

One of the girls I know called me “lucky” the other day. I responded that I had worked hard all my life so I could be lucky. But yeah, I understand her point. I don’t have to worry day to day about paying for the essentials. I was blessed to be born in the USA, where you have a better opportunity to improve your circumstances through hard work, determination, and perseverance. And yeah, maybe a little luck along the way too. But I was born poor, well, I guess working class, in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. The kids all made fun of my hand-me-down clothes and the old run-down house we lived in. But it doesn’t matter how you start; it’s where you finish that counts. And here I am, living in paradise like a rich man. I’ll call that a win.

So, when I saw that chart above, I was curious where my full-time employee fit on the income scale: “low income but not poor”. Of course, that is based on salary alone, she also gets free lodging and eats on my dime, so I’d guess that makes her almost middle class. I know now that the salary I’m paying is way above normal for a domestic helper/caregiver. Still, she does good work and has been with me the entire four years I’ve lived here, so she’s worth it.

But as rich as I am, there are some things I just can’t afford. I was perusing the frozen meats at Royal supermarket yesterday and experienced a severe case of sticker shock when I saw this:

The signage says it is beef from Japan. I don’t know anyone who could afford to pay that price, in their right mind or not. And you’d have to be crazy to spend that kind of money for 14 kgs of meat. Something ain’t right. I’ll check again next week to see if they are still there or if the price has been changed.

The women I know all seem to recognize my richness. Another day, another request for emergency funding. At least the story last night was original and mildly interesting. And honestly, 5,000 pesos here and 5000 there do add up. I’ve been exceeding my charity budget these past few months, so I’m going to have to toughen up again and strictly enforce Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). Wish me luck with that!

Luckily, I’ve got plenty of cash for my other nighttime pursuits, which primarily consist of alcohol consumption. I honestly don’t usually pay attention to the cost of an individual drink. I mean, if a beer is 60 pesos or 80 pesos, it is not that big a deal. But this new gin and soda routine has been shockingly expensive. What I’ve been doing is buying a shot of gin and a can of soda water. That allows me to moderate the strength of the drink and reduce the speed of alcohol consumption. In Blue Butterfly last night, my shot of gin was 90 pesos, and the can of soda water was 120 pesos. That’s more expensive than a lady drink, so I jokingly asked my waitress if I would be receiving a commission on my beverage. All kidding aside though, the difference between paying a buck fifty for a beer and over four dollars for a gin drink adds up pretty quickly. Still, I can afford it, so I’m not really complaining. Much. I do try to keep it in perspective by reminding myself that I was paying around seven bucks for a beer back in Korea. So, it’s all relative.

I met the girl who needed cash at John’s place last night. We shared an order of Korean-style wings. She had beer, and I had gin. When she finished her tale of woe, I told her I’d give her some cash the next day. Then she wanted to join me on my bar hop. I hadn’t been planning on that, and for some reason, it bugged me. I finally relented to the extent that I’d join her at Blue Butterfly, a place where she had previously worked.

When we got there, she was given a warm greeting by all the girls and the manager. I guess she had been a very popular member of the team. We had more drinks, and she asked me to buy one for the manager, and I agreed. I was taken aback again when she told me she wanted to be my girlfriend, and I kept rejecting her. That I seem like a nice guy, but I’m cold-hearted. I didn’t have much to say in response other than it just wasn’t a good time for me.

What’s weird is that she was the third woman this week who strongly suggested interest in being in a relationship with me. And despite my persistent whining here about being lonely, those feelings weren’t mutual. I’m not saying I’ll never give any of them a shot; it is just that something doesn’t feel right for me at this moment in time. Or maybe I’ve just made the transition to a solitary existence, and I’m not willing to give that up. It seems strange, though, and so unlike me.

I told my wannabe girlfriend goodnight and left her at Blue Butterfly with her friends. I had a couple more drinks at Cheap Charlies, then tried a new place up the highway called Sloppy Joe’s. They’ve expanded since my last visit to include indoor tables and several large-screen televisions. I sat outside to watch the world go by instead. They did have a nice buy one/get one promo with your first drink, so I did two for the price of one, then headed to the sanctuary I call home.

My deadline for leaving the country is rapidly approaching, and I will have to decide soon on whether to get jabbed. Stay tuned.

Rained throughout the night and into the morning, but ’tis the season. It didn’t stop me from walking today and won’t prevent me from going out tonight. A rich man has got to live large after all, right?

Just a quick recap of my more drunken interesting than usual Friday night.

I started out by dropping into my former haunt at Alley Cats. It was Billy’s birthday, so I brought her some brownies and a gift envelope. I stayed for two drinks, but the “cold shoulder” vibe I’d felt during my previous visit continued. I’m talking as much about the fellow customers as I am about the bargirls. Keep in mind this was my former hangout for over four years, and now I felt like a stranger. The good news is I don’t give a shit. If someone doesn’t like me enough even to be polite, I don’t want or need them in my life.

Since I decided to bail out early at Alley Cats, I still had time to make it to the SOB competition being held this week at Voodoo. My first visit there since I did the bar review last November. It’s a smaller bar, but there were still plenty of good seats left when I arrived. Since I don’t frequent this bar, I didn’t know any of the waitresses or dancers. I picked one dancer randomly to join me for some company during the show.

I was a little surprised when she told me she was 45 years old. That is the oldest dancer I’ve ever seen in a bar. Granted, she was still attractive, and despite having three kids, her body was in good shape.

She’s a touchy-feely kind of gal, and her friskiness in a public place made me a little uncomfortable. But the drinks were flowing, the show was going, and no one else was knowing. When the contest was over (Voodoo won), I said my goodnight to what’s-her-name and dragged my drunken ass out of the bar.

It wasn’t time to go home yet, though. There’s an event after the SOB called “Aftermath” featuring reduced drink prices and more discount coupons being raffled. It was being held next door at Hot Zone, so I popped in and drank some more.

Then things got a little fuzzy. Well, more than a little. I recall getting a text message from a female friend saying she had been waiting for a Jeepney home for a long time without any luck. I guess I invited her to join me at Hot Zone, and she agreed. And that’s where things go blank.

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on my couch. That’s a first for me—no recollection of how or why I ended up there. I made my way to the bedroom, and my female friend was sleeping in my bed, fully clothed. I crawled in beside her and tried to go back to sleep, but I was kind of freaked out by the situation and my lack of memory as to how it came about.

My friend woke up around 4:30. According to her, I had invited her home with me, she had given me a massage, then I got up and fell asleep on the couch. Weird, that is so unlike me. I can see myself falling asleep during a massage but not moving to a very uncomfortable sofa. I can only assume that something happened that I don’t recall, and she isn’t telling me.

Anyway, she said she was ready to go home. I told her to wait a while; it was still dark outside. I offered to make her breakfast, but she insisted she wanted to leave now. It was raining too. I’m not going to make someone stay who doesn’t want to be here, but damn, I never walk these streets in the dark. But off we went, using my phone’s flashlight to provide a little bit of illumination. My unpaved shortcuts were out of the question under these circumstances, so it was a 15-minute walk to the highway. I brought Buddy along too. It wasn’t long before a Jeepney arrived and carried my friend homeward.

So, I brought a woman home, and she slept in my bed. And I didn’t. No sex or cuddling or anything. Well, I guess a massage that I don’t remember at all. And her insistence on leaving under the worst possible circumstances was mind-boggling. Something must have happened, but I have no idea what.

Oh, and she is still chatting with me like everything is cool and nothing has changed. And she sent a message that “next time” she’ll stay all day if I want. Huh? Why would I want there to be a next time when I can’t get my mind around the last time.

Weird shit, huh? I think I may need to recalibrate my plan to convert to gin and soda. Beer never made me lose my mind this way. Maybe having a big belly isn’t the worst option.

Shopping day, and even week to week I can see the inflationary impact on groceries, especially anything imported. On the other hand, I’m getting 55 pesos to the dollar; that’s the highest I’ve seen since I first started coming to the Philippines back in 2008. The lowest I’ve seen is 43, and I hope I never see that rate of exchange again.

After shopping, I had some lunch at Sit-n-Bull:

Facebook reminded me that it was four years ago when I got the call my lost Buddy had been found after going missing three days earlier:

I also came across this photo on Facebook and got a good chuckle:

I seem to be walking a different path, though. This TikTok video posted on the Althouse blog spoke to me in ways that seemed eerily responsive to my thoughts about whether I’m destined to die alone:

I guess there are worse fates. Oddly enough, when I woke up this morning, I had a song in my head called “The Loner.” It’s from Neil Young’s debut solo album released in 1969 (I was 14 then, if you are keeping track) and it was far from my favorite song on that record. In fact, I haven’t thought of it or heard it played in decades. Why I thought of it this morning is a mystery. Maybe I shouldn’t read too much into it.

There was a woman he knew
About a year or so ago
She had something that he needed
And he pleaded with her not to go
On the day that she left
He died but it did not show

Know when you see him
Nothing can free him
Step aside, open wide
It's the loner

Perhaps that’s my fate, but then again, everything can change in a New York minute.

Moving on, I may be alone, but I have a life, and part of that life involves drinking. I figured I’d spend at least a portion of my Tuesday evening on Baloy Beach. Last time I was out there at McCoy’s, they told me they didn’t have soda water. So on my way to the beach, I popped into 7/11 to buy a couple of cans, but they were sold out. Damn, well, I’m right next door to the Snackbar, and I know they have soda water, so I went in to get a couple to go. My friend was there and invited me to stay, but there was a Dick sitting outside, so I took a pass.

When I got to McCoy’s, the bartender pulled my regular beer out of the fridge, but I told her, “no, just give me a shot of gin. I brought my own soda.” She gave me a funny look and said we don’t have gin. I pointed at the bottle on the shelf, and she explained that is only sold by the bottle, not a drink. Ah yeah, the Filipino style is for a group of friends to buy a whole bottle and take turns doing shots. I should have known better. Well, I wasn’t going to break my diet, so I gave my soda water to the bartender and headed on up the beach to Johan’s.

I was the only customer in the place, and even a loner can be bored (it’s a regular bar, no bargirls). After a couple of drinks, I sent a message to my friend asking if the Dick was still at Snackbar. She said “yes, but he’s outside. Come inside and sit with me.” It seemed like my best option, so I walked on over.

I didn’t say anyting to the Dick when I walked inside. Sat down, ordered up my gin and soda, and chatted with my friend and her lovely staff of waitresses. Before too long, a couple of them started goofing around and dancing.

Anyway, as you can see, we were all having a good time. Inside at least. I don’t know what triggered it, but something happened, and the next thing I know, my friend was out in the parking lot yelling at the Dick. He wound up running away. When she came back in, she said he had been bad mouthing her to other customers. And not just her, one of the waitress played me a recording she had made of him trash talking about me. Of course, he didn’t have the balls to say anything to my face. A real Dick move. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with the guy, but he clearly has issues. He was bragging to people a few days ago about being engaged. Why he would care about me spending time with the woman who rejected him is a mystery. I don’t really give a shit, though. Just someone I’ll continue to avoid whenever possible.

Anyway, we didn’t let it cool our buzz. I had ordered food for the staff from Kamto and it arrived shortly after the incident, and we all chowed down. When the food was gone, I finished my drink and headed home for my 9 p.m. bedtime.

And there you have a snapshot from my so-called life.

And so it begins, the first day of my new life. It will be much like the old life but with less beer, healthier eating, and additional exercise. I weighed in today at 213.4, and I want to get under 200 again. The real goal though is reducing a beer belly that makes me look eight months pregnant. I feel like a picture of me must have been circulated that started this whole ‘men can have babies’ lie. Sorry for that!

Started the morning with a good long group walk on the backroads out to Waltermart in Subic. I’ll post those pics tomorrow. As is our custom, the after-hike food and beverages were at Kamto.

Came home and took a quick nap, then started a new workout routine.

We’ll know soon enough if I have the self-discipline to keep this up and reach my goals. Stay tuned.

I took advantage of my last night as a “free” man to engage in some serious beer drinking. Started at IDM, where the weekly raffle was to raise funds for Mike, the guy who got hit by a car last week.

Reports I’ve read say that Mike seems to be making slow but steady progress. He still can’t speak or move his left side but is responsive to voices and will give a thumbs up to visitors. He’s got a long road ahead of him, but from everything I’ve heard, this Marine is not one to give up. Good luck to you, sir!

Later on, I spent some time with my favorites at Cheap Charlies. It’s nice to have fun in that bar again. I had more than enough beers by the time I headed home. I guess I’ll be missing those days soon.

But life goes on, and this is Friday, and today the SOB will be held at Wet Spot. I’ll be there drinking gin and sodas and hoping I can pace myself so as to make it through the show.

Wish me luck!

A rainy Wednesday, and only Martin and I had the gumption to get out and walk anyway. As it turned out, we only needed our umbrellas for a few minutes, but given the wet conditions, we stayed on flat pavement for most of our 8K journey. Photos at the end of this post.

A good meeting with my doctor(s) yesterday. As I mentioned before, Dr. Jo runs the clinic, and her American husband assists, although he is not licensed to practice in the Philippines. My bloodwork results were mostly positive; I was only above normal in two categories. My glucose came in at 6.66 (I’m such a devil!), with the top of the normal range being 5.83. My blood uric acid was also high at 0.87, above the 0.51 ceiling for normal. The docs agreed that my plan to reduce beer consumption and improve my diet would likely bring my high readings back down. I was happy to see that my liver function and diabetes numbers were still not a problem.

What I most appreciated was having a consultation that lasted almost an hour and resulted in removing two of my six current drug prescriptions. They also modified my nebulizer juice’s ingredients, hopefully improving my lung function. My other big issue is my chronic sinus congestion, and the docs said that there were better alternatives to try other than surgery. I’m down with that. So, we’ll see how things go, but I’m happy to have found physicians I can trust right here in Barretto. Oh yeah, the visit and the juice for my nebulizer cost me a whopping 3700 pesos ($75).

At the conclusion of my appointment with Dr. Jo, it was beer o’clock, so I went to work. I’d promised Joy at Hideaway Bar a visit, and my custom of late is to provide the girls with a bite to eat. I stopped by Sit-n-Bull and got an order of lasagna for Joy and some chicken fingers and lumpia for the rest of the crew. They all seemed happy with their chow, but it did cost me a bit over 1000 pesos. Wouldn’t normally be a problem, but I hadn’t adequately filled my wallet for both a doctor’s visit and a night in the bars. Didn’t have my ATM card with me either, so my style was going to be a little cramped.

After a few beers at Hideaway, including a freebie from the owner, I headed up the highway for Cheap Charlies. It seemed like a fitting place to be given my reduced spending power.

I was keeping a mental tally of the total cost of my beers and lady drinks, and when the time came to stop spending, it was only 7:30. Damn, that is too early, even for me. In checking my nearly empty wallet, I saw that I had a drink coupon for The Green Room right across the street. I’d buy one and get one free, then head on home.

Except things didn’t work out that way. My two Green Room regulars joined me as soon as I sat down. I explained my situation and told them I could get them each one drink with no tip or no drink and 100 pesos each instead. They both wanted the drink even though the commission was less than my proposed tip. They told me they have a drink quota, and failure to meet it results in a reduced salary. Good to know, and I guess that explains the desperate pleas of “buy me drink” in some bars.

The CR (comfort room/restroom) is next door in the Wet Spot bar. I said my goodnight, then went to take a leak before catching a trike home. As I was leaving Wet Spot, I spotted Daddy Dave, the owner, at the “backslappers” table. I asked him if they accepted credit cards, and he told me that was not a problem. First time I’ve ever used my card in a bar (most don’t take them), but desperate times call for creative measures. I was peacefully enjoying my beer when I spotted Aine walking past my table. I hadn’t seen her since throwing a party for her 40th birthday at the bar. The same night she told me she had met someone and would be leaving the bar to be with him.

She didn’t see me as she went by, and I didn’t call out to her. I was definitely surprised to see her, though. I guess someone must have told her I was there because she showed up at my side a few minutes later. “What are you doing here?” I asked. She sat down and told me the common tale of the bargirl: the customer makes big promises, and they all turn out to be lies. She seemed to be taking it all in stride, so I invited her to sit down and bought her a drink. And later, another one after Daddy Dave sent me over a free beer. I called him out for his timing; since I had a fresh beer, I needed to buy Aine another drink. Well, that’s why Dave is a successful businessman, I guess.

Truth be told, it was nice spending some time with Aine again. Sorry things didn’t work out for her and that guy, but better she finds out sooner than later that he’s a liar. She’s been around long enough to know how that game is played (and maybe she’s played it herself, as far as I know). Anyway, the SOB is at Wet Spot this week, so I’ll see her again on Friday.

Here are a few photos from the Wednesday Walkers hike:

That’s all I have from the hike.

It’s the end of June and my last night of beer in the bars for a while (at least the month of July). I’ll still have a few on Hash Monday since there is no other option. (and no, not drinking at all is NOT an option).

See you next month!

…on the road to better physical and mental health. I had blood work done with my new doctor yesterday morning, and I’ve got an appointment this afternoon for the results. It took Dr. Jo three jabs to draw enough blood because my veins kept “collapsing.” Of course, I’d been fasting and was a little dehydrated, which probably explains it. Anyway, my vital signs are trending in the right direction again (BP mid-130s/80 and resting heart rate under 70), so I’m happy about that. I want to get her advice on what to do about my chronic nasal congestion. Hopefully, I won’t need the surgery recommended by another doctor. We’ll see.

On a whim, I decided to reach out to a woman I tried to court several months ago who declared she wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend. I told her I was still interested, and she responded she’d been lonely too and asked what I had in mind. I told her I was hoping for a companion to share some adventures and good times. She indicated that was something she’d enjoy as well.

So, “Judy” ticks all the boxes: late 30s, no kids, not a bargirl, loves to travel, into physical activities like hiking, and enjoys a beer now and then. No wonder I find her so attractive! And the possibility she might be interested in a relationship with me was especially exciting.

Ah, but then came the caveats: She’s planning on moving to Europe next year. She would be happy to share some companionship but doesn’t know about a love relationship. Her work schedule keeps her busy every night (she does online recruitment from the USA), and she sleeps during the day, so her only availability is on weekends; she asked if we really needed to label it “boyfriend and girlfriend”–couldn’t we just be friends with mutual interests, and oh, let’s keep the relationship secret because her parents are very conservative.

Okay, then. We are going to have dinner sometime this weekend. Think I’ll take her to John’s Steak and Sushi place. Looks like I’ve made a friend, at least. I’ll have to keep searching for someone to love me.

But life goes on, and so do I. A break in the rain, and I headed out to McCoy’s for some beachside beer drinking. The bartender there (an older woman) commented on how lonely I looked. Well, she didn’t comment; she started singing the “I’m Mr. Lonely” song. I just shrugged and told her that there are worse things than being alone.

The rain returned with gusto, pounding down on the tin roof and making further conversation difficult.

When the storm briefly broke, I headed up the beach to Da’Kudos. More beers and some chicken fingers for dinner.

After finishing my food, I caught a trike back to Barretto. I decided to check in with Bhel, my bartender friend at Outback. The place was very busy; not even a seat at the bar. I sat at a small table, and the waitress served me a beer. Bhel was too busy to do more than greet me, so I finished my beer, paid my tab, and crossed the street to Queen Victoria. Took a barstool and ordered up another beer. The staff was friendly and welcoming, but no one there I cared enough about to talk to. So, it was two beers and out.

It was still too early to go home, so I walked up the highway to Snackbar to finish my night. The girls there are actually a lot of fun, and I had a good time chatting and goofing with them. My friend from Kamto sent over some nachos for us to enjoy.

The only thing better would have been having a girlfriend tagging along with me. One of these days!