Over the hills or around them? That was the choice to be made, and five of us elected to walk a bit further on mostly flat ground rather than go up and over on a steep path. After seeing some photos from the climb, I feel good about my choice.

It was kinda funny when the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, was giving instructions at the start of the run, stated, “There’s only one trail, but if you want to shortcut, just follow Scott or John.” Heh, I’m a famous short cutter, I guess, but the fact of the matter is my chosen path was a LONGcut. Not that it matters.

I enjoyed the hike, which may be further indication that I have morphed into a flatlander. Well, it beats the alternative of being an underlander, I suppose.

I walked to Snackbar after the Hash but left after one beer because I was unhappy with rap music being played at a high volume. When your customer base is old white guys, you need to do better than that. Did my nightcap at Whiskey Girl, and headed back home.

Here’s one I just know you are going to like:

Tired of Star Trek joke memes? Here’s a gift for you:

That’s all for today. I have some real news to share with y’all tomorrow.

As promised, here is a quick after-action report from my weekend in Pozorrubio, participating in the annual Haggis Bash with the La Union Hash House Harriers.

Getting There

I caught a ride to Pozorrubio with my neighbor and fellow Hasher, Simon (Leech My Nuggets). On the trip up, there were seven passengers in Simon’s car, which meant we had a middle rider in the backseat with me, making it cramped and uncomfortable. At a rest stop halfway there, Simon’s wife elected to sit in the rear with two other female passengers, giving me the front seat. Much better!

Lodging

I would rate the MGM at two stars. The sad thing is, it has the potential to be much higher rated with better management. There was one of the nicer pools I’ve seen, but it was empty and unmaintained. An outdoor bar and rooftop disco were also closed. My room was similarly in need of attention. I was shocked to discover there was no showerhead in my bathroom, and the thought of standing under a pipe of running water to bathe wasn’t appealing. I found the showerhead lying next to the sink and re-attached it myself. That problem solved; I then discovered there was no hot water. I hate cold showers. No toilet paper either, but I bring my own wet wipes, so no issue there. Two bath towels but no washcloths or hand towels. No WiFi connection. The hallway outside my room was unlit, and I needed to use my phone flashlight to see the keyhole. And they didn’t have housekeeping between day one and day two. All said it was one of the worst hotel experiences I can recall. The room was 2400 ($48.) a night, which was way too much for what I received in return.

The MGM was 8K away from the On-Home farm venue, but luckily, the hotel provided van transportation for only 60 pesos a head. Given the logistics, that proved to be a Godsend.

Pozorrubio

For a city with over 70,000 residents, I was shocked at the lack of services and conveniences (oh, did I spell bars wrong?) Seriously though, there were very few options for dining out or having fun in this town. Nothing at all within walking distance of my hotel. The other hotel in town is more centrally located, but according to the Hashers who stayed there, the only place to gather was an outdoor beer garden. Better than nothing, but no help to me from where I was ensconced. Luckily, I drank my fill at the Hash, so I didn’t need to go out, but damn, I can’t imagine living in a place like this. Barretto may be small, but we have many restaurants, hotels, and bars to patronize. Pozorrubio is not a nice place to visit, and I definitely wouldn’t want to live there.

Friday on the farm

After getting checked in and unpacked, we took the hotel van to the CIJ farm, which is apparently a local icon. At least everyone seemed to know where it was located. It was 5K on the highway and another 3K on backstreets to get there.

There was a short 4K Hash trail scheduled to begin at 2:30. It was mostly through farm country and blessedly flat. It was a very pleasant hike and I enjoyed seeing some new vistas.

In keeping with Hash custom, multiple beers were consumed with the added treat of some “Scottish stew” to keep the hunger pangs at bay. Someone called the hotel van and left on the early ride around 7 p.m. A good Day 1 at the Haggis Bash.

Sunday’s marathon

Sunday’s trail began at 9:30 in the morning. I opted for the 6K version, and it was a good fit for me.

Back On-Home for all the after-Hash activities I mentioned in yesterday’s post. I chose not to participate in the games and sat in the shade instead. Had a nice chat with another like-minded Hasher and passed the time with plenty of San Miguel Zeros.

A wet and wild Hash circle followed, then more beers and my first taste of haggis. I was running out of gas by 7 p.m. and asked someone to call the hotel driver. He wasn’t available, so she called for a trike instead. Now, it’s a goodly distance (8K) back to my hotel, and I was prepared to pay 200 pesos for the ride, which is more than fair. Given my lack of options, I could have been talked into 300 pesos, but when the trike driver insisted on 400, I wasn’t willing to pay the skin tax. I told him never mind and walked away. I was pissed but bit my tongue. Nothing good comes from making a Filipino lose face.

We called the hotel again and were told the van would be available at 8:00. Nothing to do but drink more beer and wait it out. Our group exceeded the van’s capacity, but we all squeezed in anyway. All but me and another guy got out at the beer garden in town, but there was no way I was going anywhere but back to my hotel. So, my night ended peacefully with me in one piece.

A Sunday drive

The plan was to leave for Barretto at 9:30 in the morning, but I got a knock on the door an hour earlier, saying everyone was ready to go. Luckily, I had packed, so I put my blog post on hold, closed up the laptop, and headed downstairs. Only five of us on the trip back, so much more comfortable. I had the front seat again, which is always nice. Simon took a different route to the expressway, so we were seeing some new sights. And then we went under a bridge that carried the expressway and saw no on-ramps. We kept our northward heading, and I pulled out my map app to show us the way. We wound up taking a 6K detour in each direction through a small town with gridlocked traffic, but we eventually made our way back to the highway home.

Epilogue

We arrived safely just before noon, and I resumed my Barretto life. That included the Sunday feeding at Hideaway. Swan joined me at the new Oasis bar after church, and we spent some quality time imbibing (beer for me, wine for her). We made Sloppy Joe’s our nightcap venue. The Sit-n-Bull waitress came by, and I asked about pecan pie availability, and she said yes. So, two pies to go, please! Came home, had dessert, and then a lovely welcome home from Swan.

And that’s where things stand as of now. I’ll be Hashing again today and likely shortcutting since Leech My Nuggets is the Hare. Still don’t want to push my luck going up into the hills.

And here’s a two-fer in the bad puns of the day offering:

Back tomorrow with the latest happenings!

A very long day yesterday. The trail started at 0930, and we didn’t leave the On-Home until 8 p.m. My ride back to Barretto is leaving in an hour, so I am just going to dump some photos from the Haggis Bash now, and I’ll write up a post-mortem tomorrow. Fair enough?

Back at the On-Home a little before noon. Lunch was provided (I had a hamburger with a spoonful of slaw on the side). And the coolers of beer were open for business. Then the games began. I chose not to participate but found a shady spot to sit and observe. It was almost 5 p.m. when we finally gathered for the circle.

At the conclusion of the circle, we were ushered into the dining area.

Alright, that’s how the day went. More to say about it as time permits. Thanks for stopping by.

I survived day one of the Haggis Bash Hash here in Pozorrubio, La Union. Day two kicks off soon, so this will be an abbreviated post out of necessity. You are welcome!

Yesterday’s trail was short and sweet, mostly through flat farmland. Some food and beverages at the trail’s end, then on to a local Hasher’s farm for the On-Home festivities. The main event is today, with a longer trail and some competitive events among the various Hash groups in attendance.

Here are a few pictures from yesterday:

So, we are off to a good start. It’s going to be a LONG day today, but it should be fun. See you tomorrow!

Anyone else remember that movie from 1977? My UFO encounters yesterday were of the Unexpected Freaky Occurrences type, which have heretofore been rather alien to me. I’ll tell the story of yesterday’s Hash and intertwine the bizarre events that took place chronologically.

The Hares were Almoranus and Vienna Sausage (Guenther), and I would have avoided their 10K mountain trail under the best of circumstances. Four of us planned an alternative route that would take us from Barretto High School to the end of Rizal Extension, through the hills on the My Bitch trail, then down through Alta Vista to the On-Home at Johansson’s. I figured on leaving the house at 1:45, walking to the highway to catch a trike to Rizal, and meeting up with the others at our agreed-upon 2:30 start time.

The first UFO appeared at 1:00. I heard the dogs barking out front and went to investigate. I was surprised to see Angie standing outside the gate. I had met Angie last year when she worked at Queen Victoria. She had expressed an interest in joining the Hash, and as is my custom, I agreed to sponsor her (i.e., pay the 300 peso entry). She brought a friend along the first time, and some money went missing (she blamed her friend). Anyway, Angie is a certified drama queen, a mother of six, and someone I never had the slightest interest in hooking up with (and regular readers know my standards are low). So, a few months ago, I had lent her some food money and later, she asked if I would sponsor her to join me at a Hash in Angeles. I told her no, that’s not going to happen. Now, this was after a night of drinking at the Hash, but her response of “I hate you!” was uncalled for, in my opinion. I paid my tab and left her sitting there at IDM. I noticed the next day that she had unfriended me on Facebook. She showed up the following week for the Hash, and I paid her entry but didn’t have anything else to do with her that night. She sent me a FB friend request that I have not accepted. It’s been a couple of months now, and I hadn’t seen or heard from her until she showed up at my new place. I’m not sure how she found where I live.

So, I asked Angie what she wanted and she responded she was looking for where the Hash would be. I told her the start of the trail was at Savers (at the far end of Barretto) and that I wouldn’t be doing that trail (and I also didn’t invite her to join the short trail). She asked me if I could give her 20 pesos for Jeepney fare to savers, and I did. Swan was standing there watching all this, but she seemed fine when I explained the situation after Angie departed.

When it came time for me to head out, there was a trike parked in front of my neighbor’s house, and the driver asked me if I wanted a ride. Well, I was going to catch a trike at the highway anyway, so I took it as a sign of God’s grace that I could ride all the way to our meet up.

Because I had triked all the way, I arrived early and had some time to kill.

At the appointed time, we headed up Rizal Extension. It’s about a 2K walk to where the My Bitch trail starts, and it is all uphill. I dislike that walk during the best of times, but after a sleepless night and with low energy, it was especially bad. About a third of the way up, I bailed. I just didn’t want to run out of gas somewhere up in the hills with no avenues for escape. As I made my way back down the road, I questioned my decision, but what was done was done.

Making my way towards Johansson’s on Jolo Street, I encountered my second UFO. As I passed a foreigner, he called out in a German accent, “You are M C, right?” I didn’t understand what he meant, so I said, no, my name is John. He said, yes, you are M C…I read your blog. Okay, well, I’ve never been called that, but it’s always nice to meet a reader. Or should I say, almost always. I stuck out my hand to offer a handshake, and he started telling me what a horrible person I was for destroying his girl’s business and costing her “millions.” I’m thinking, what the fuck are you talking about? It turns out his girl ran the short-lived Finger Monkeys bar. I gave it a good review and ranking at the time. A few months later, after Joy had quit in a salary dispute, I mentioned that I thought she had mistreated her employees and that I would no longer patronize the bar. No big deal; I’m just one person voting with my feet. And, of course, what put Finger Monkey out of business was his gal getting arrested for hiring an underage girl as a waitress. His gal spent some time in jail for that but was recently released. And for the record, I thought that it was an unjust arrest and she didn’t deserve to be incarcerated. I don’t recall blogging about it, but I would not have said anything negative because I thought she was innocent (the employee had apparently provided a false ID). But the man on the street was growing increasingly agitated and saying I was responsible for what happened. I told him I had very few local readers, but he didn’t want to hear that saying that I could be held accountable for my words. Alrighty then, that was over two years ago, and if stating my opinion can get me in trouble, so be it. This kind of confrontation was the first of its kind in eighteen years of blogging.

That long ass Hares trail kept even the hardiest and fastest Hasher up in the hills much longer than usual. As it was near dusk, I asked some of the late arrivals if they had seen Angie at the start. Yes, she was on the trail. I admit to being a bit worried about her because she is relatively inexperienced at the Hash, and it would be easy to lose the trail. She finally made it back as one of the last arrivals. To her credit, she did the whole damn trail.

As I was preparing to leave at the end of the Hash, Angie asked if she could “borrow” 300 pesos and insisted she would pay me back soon. Yeah, right. I “lent” it to her, figuring it was a cheap way never to have to entertain a money request from her in the future. And 300 pesos is less than what I pay for two lady drinks.

I didn’t do the usual after-Hash gathering at IDM–I didn’t want to walk that far out of my way. Instead, I opted for Snackbar, conveniently located on the highway at Baloy Road. Swan had been out with a friend on Baloy, so I messaged her that we could meet at Snackbar on her way home if she wanted. She responded that she didn’t want to drink but could pick me up on her way home. I said my girlfriend wouldn’t like that. That joke response resulted in my third UFO of the day.

When I got home about an hour later, Swan wasn’t there. I went to bed and woke up a couple of hours later. Her side of the bed was empty. I looked into the living room, and she was watching TV on the couch. She didn’t say a word to me, which is the opposite of her usual style. I always get a warm welcome and hugs, but not last night. When I asked her what was going on, she pulled out her phone with the “my girlfriend wouldn’t like it” message. Seriously? Okay, I’ll concede it was a stupid joke, but for her to interpret that I have a girlfriend and was with her is ridiculous. The girlfriend I was talking about was Swan. Anyway, instead of getting all pissy, she could have just said who are you talking about? I guess what really bothered me most was for her to take that joke the wrong way, says that she sees me as the kind of guy who would have a girlfriend on the side. I may be many creepy things, but I’m not a cheater. We are back hugging this morning, but I still feel tension between us. I really despise drama.

Moving on, I know I have at least one reader who is a grammar Nazi.

I reckon I’ll do the floating bar to start things off once beer o’clock gets here. Swan is in Subic, so I won’t be with my girlfriend. Maybe tomorrow.

It was an abbreviated Hash for me yesterday. My good intentions proved to be for naught when it came down to putting in the steps. The plan to walk to the start of the trail lasted less than a kilometer before I grabbed a trike to take me the rest of the way. I knew I wouldn’t be following the Hare’s trail to the top of Kalaklan Ridge, but my goal of putting in a similar distance on flat ground proved to be beyond the limited capacity of my lungs. So, instead of making my own 5K loop, I did two and called it a day.

My planned alternative trail proved more than I could handle, so I made my way to John’s place, grabbed a bite to eat, and then headed to the On-Home at Blue Butterfly.

I had received the Hashit last week, so it was upon me to bestow it upon a worthy recipient at this week’s Hash. Surveying the crowd that gathered at the trailhead, I thought Ken (Bug Fucker) would be an appropriate candidate. I just needed to come up with a reason for my choice. So, I walked up and asked him if he would give me 500 pesos, and he said no, he could not. Later, at the On-Home, while he was eating his meat pie, I asked if he would share his meal with me. Once again, he declined to do so.

I chose not to participate in the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter; I caught a trike home instead. That makes two nights in a row I was home before 7 p.m. At least I made the effort, so we’ll call it baby steps towards recovery.

I walked the dogs this morning for the first time in four days (don’t worry, the helper provided them leash time in my absence), another indicator of progress. It’s funny how quickly activities you take for granted or even consider a chore are missed when you lose the capability to perform them. I hope to be back on trail in the hills soon.

On the way home from Royal this morning, as we passed by the Kalaklan cemetery, for some reason a song I hadn’t heard or thought of for practically forever came to mind. I sang the verse I remembered aloud, then pulled it up on YouTube to refresh my memory.

I got the Hashit, the Subic Hashit
For being stupid on trail today
I have to hold it until I pass it
Won't someone take my Hashit away
Drink it down, down, down, down

Here’s the delayed report on Monday’s Subic Hash. Leech My Nuggets was the Hare, and he is well known for both his challenging trails and the quality of his markings. One of the best Hares around, for sure. The trail began way out at the end of Rizal Extension and being the shortcutter that I am, I opted to leave from my house instead.

The Hashit is awarded each week by the person who received it the previous week. Buddy Fucker selected me for the “honor” this week. As the song at the beginning of this post implies, you get the Hashit for doing something stupid. My “crime” was booking Buddy Fucker into one of those crappy rooms at Orchid Inn in Angeles City. Guilty as charged!

I will look forward to finding a suitable recipient next week.

After the Hash, I took a trike to It Doesn’t Matter for the gathering there.

Not a bad day on trail!

Here’s today’s pun:

A quick post with photos from yesterday’s Angeles Hash before I rush out for today’s Subic Hash. It was an easy trail, thankfully, because I didn’t have much going for me. Coughing and hocking up phlegm throughout the duration of the 4K short trail I hiked. The Angeles Hash Circle is very laid back, with no ice and few punishments. Some of the songs were familiar, though. There was an after-Hash gathering, including a dinner, that I opted not to participate in. Instead, I visited a bar named Phillies that I’ve patronized in the past and had some quesadillas. Swan and her girlfriend joined me there later.

As I mentioned, I chose not to attend the Octoberfest activities. I took a trike from where the Jeepney dropped us back to my hotel. After depositing my backpack in the room, I walked the block up to the main drag and took a streetside seat at Phillies.

Made it safely back to my hotel and tried to sleep through the coughing jags. Still coughing, although not as badly, today. We’ll see how things go on today’s Hash. I’m not going to be shy about shortcutting and keeping things as flat as possible.

Back tomorrow with a report on how that worked out.

Best pun I could do on short notice:

And another Neil Young tune:

But I’m at a ‘Los’ remembering anything about that day. I haven’t forgotten this Angeles City. It was the first place I visited in the Philippines. I don’t come here very often anymore; the fact of the matter is I just don’t like it very much. Lots of whore bars and not much else. But I’m here to Hash and that’s what I’ll focus on.

I’m at the Orchid Inn, the hotel I stayed in during my first trip back in 2007. I remember the rooms being WAY nicer back then. Oh well, it’s a place to lay my tired head at the end of a long day. What else do I need?

Well, I’ve got to eat, I suppose. Last night, I visited the nearby Tequila Reef Cantina. It is reputed to be one of the best dining establishments in AC, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Breakfast here at the hotel was okay, too.

That brings you up to date so far. I’ll be heading over to the Hash On-Home at noon to sign up and catch a Jeepney to wherever the trail is. I feel like shit, but I’m going to do my best anyway. Coughing and wheezing as I write this. The Angeles Hash group isn’t known for their tough trails and hopefully they’ll have one especially for us old farts. I’ll let you know how that goes tomorrow.

Here’s the post I did from last year’s Angeles Hash.

A song about that other Angeles:

Yesterday’s Hash turned out to be survivable, and I even made it through a climb. I was huffing and puffing and slow as molasses, but it wasn’t a race. The Tylenol I took for the back pain helped, but I decided not to do the 3K walk to the start. I’m doing a consult with Dr. Jo this afternoon, which means I’ve got to do a rush job on this post. Hell, the less I say, the better, right?

I’ve been avoiding hill climbs in deference to my weak leg, but lately, heavy breathing has been a more concerning issue. Hopefully, Dr. Jo will have some treatment for my sciatica, and the upcoming nasal surgery will improve my oxygen intake.

Lest I forget, Happy Halloween!

Yesterday’s Hash with the La Union group was a special one. It was the 40th Anniversary run, and some old timers from the first year of the LUH3 came out to celebrate by recreating one of the original Hash trails. It was 5K long, mostly flat, and had three beer stops along the way! Man, that’s my kind of trail!

Yesterday’s Subic Bay Hash House Harriers 30th Anniversary run is in the books. No one got married, so I guess you could say it went off without a hitch. The Hares offered three options: long (11K), medium (6K), and short (4K). As is my custom, I was joined by three others, and we did our own version of the trail–got dropped off at the start of the long trail and then avoided most of the climbs for an enjoyable 6K hike.

There was a huge turnout for the special day–103 paid Hashers. We had guests from several other Philippines Hash groups and a couple of others from Thailand. One of the out-of-towners misbehaved in a disgusting way–masturbating while on the ice–but otherwise, it was an enjoyable gathering. I made it to the end on ten beers, then went home instead of joining the after-party. See how dedicated I am to losing weight?

Here are some pictures from my day:

My leg held up pretty well on yesterday’s trek. Using my stick as a cane seems to take some pressure off, and once again, after a couple of kilometers it felt almost normal. I did have my MRI done today and some other tests. I’ll write about those tomorrow.

Welp, I did a Hash trail yesterday, just not the one the Hare intended. My trail had only one easy climb, one tricky downhill, and 4K of relatively painless hiking. Yep, you heard that right–my leg didn’t give me any trouble throughout the hike. I felt real good about that.

It was a painless day on trail. Does it get any better than that?

Facebook memories brought a dose of sadness today with these pictures of two of my South Carolina darts buddies:

Both are now deceased. I am older than both were at the time of their passing. A good reminder that it’s all borrowed time, so enjoy it while you can.

Seriously, though, I’m not dwelling on how much sand is left in my hourglass. I try hard to live for today and not worry about tomorrow. Plus, I’m working on a plan for a heavenly afterlife when the time comes. Stay tuned!

Speaking of heaven on Earth, look what I found on today’s shopping excursion:

A very busy morning, and I’ll be heading out soon to attend the grand opening of Barretto’s newest bar, Oasis. All the details to come in tomorrow’s post.

I guess that makes me a highwayman. It turns out the walk from my house to the One Three Resort was closer to 5K rather than the 3K I anticipated. Even so, I have no regrets about foregoing the Hash trail as a matter of prudence. In keeping with my new normal, about 1K into my walk, I started feeling pain in my upper left leg. This continued and intensified until I hit 3K, and then, either I got used to the discomfort, or it went away. The leg still felt a little weak but not unstable to the point of collapsing. I’ll call that progress and hope it continues.

As I mentioned, when it was time to head back to Barretto, I was feeling no pain. I figured I’d take a Jeepney or a trike, whichever came by first. To my surprise, a vacant taxi came by. That’s the first time I’ve ever hailed a cab on the street in over five years of living here. You rarely see a cab this far out of Olongapo; an empty one is unheard of.

A couple more beers at IDM (Zeros this time), and I knew it was time to get my ass home. I did make a stop at Sit-n-Bull for my weekly banana split to go. Home before 8:00 and asleep before 9:00. Sometime during that hour, I guess I created a misunderstanding with Swan, but we’ve put it behind us today. For the most part, anyway.

For today’s smile, how about this horny guy slingin’ the bull:

We’ll try again tomorrow. See you then.

Not THAT kind of 69. But I like the way you think!

What it was really all about was run #1569 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers.

It was a pleasant enough walk with no surprises, especially because I had participated in the Hare’s scouting mission during our Wednesday hike. My only real complaint was once we came down out of the hills, there were no trail markings on the streets leading back to the On-Home at Blue Butterfly.

Here are some photos from the trail (some mine, some taken by other Hashers):

And that’s how things went down (well, not literally) at the Hash.

In non-Hash-related news, I saw this Jeepney crashed on the side of the National Highway this morning. Hope no one was hurt.

It is funny how things turn out. In high school I dreamed of being a journalist.

And sticking with our sexual innuendo theme, I’ll leave you with this:

Tomorrow we are due for a day-long scheduled power outage. That’s something to look forward to. Ah well, I’m still counting my blessings. At least I’m not living in a Manila slum eating a local delicacy called pagpag. My foodie friends should check this out if they have the stomach for it:

Anyway, here’s the down and dirty on yesterday’s Hash. As I mentioned, there was a reworking of the trail brought about by the inaccessibility of the National Highway due to construction. So, we started at the entrance to Alta Vista instead, and the Hares laid out a very nice trail, especially for a last-minute effort. I naturally took a shortcut with the other oldies, but the 4K effort was still enjoyable.

We went back up front to the bar for more imbibing after the hash, and then a few of us crossed the highway for a couple more at the Annex bar. And then, with bedtime looming, I called it a night and headed back home. And so ended the day of my two-hundred and sixty-fourth run with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers.

I’m off to see Dr. Jo this afternoon for some advice on my meds and after that I’ll roam the streets of Barretto so you don’t have to. Glad to be of service.

Here’s my provocation on Facebook today:

Back tomorrow!

It was so nice to enjoy the sunshine again this morning. Now, let me play some catch-up and do a post about Monday’s Hash.

It was a Vienna Sausage (Guenter) trail, and the On-Home was way out at the end of Rizal Extension. So, I knew some modifications were in order from the start. Pubic Head and I agreed to leave from our respective residences and rendezvous at the first family’s (Onelia and Jennifer) house on the My Bitch trail, then hike to the On-Home from there. Another factor we had to consider was the rain situation. It had been drizzling with occasional downpours all morning. I considered bailing on the Hash altogether, but the rain had let up to a light sprinkle when the two o’clock start time rolled around. I knew another deluge could strike anytime, but I decided to take a risk and headed out. I was second-guessing the wisdom of my decision on the portion of the trail I hiked alone, but I was extra careful and managed to avoid any life-altering fuck ups. I got to Onelia’s about twenty minutes before Pubic Head and was surprised to see Blow My Pipe, Demolition Derby, and Captain Prickhard doing the alternative trail as well. The rest of the march to Always Wet’s house for the On-Home events went without incident. I left at the beginning of the Hash circle and made the 3+K hike down Rizal to Barretto on my own. I plopped myself at Sloppy Joe’s and drank enough to extinguish my sobriety, then went next door to Sit-n-Bull and got a banana split to take home with me. Life is good.

And that’s how the Monday Hash went down. Now let’s do Tuesday.

A rainy Tuesday, but the chores still got to be done, and that included the grocery shopping trip to Royal. Swan came along again and it was nice to see her. Tuesday is usually “our day,” and I’ll do my drinking at her place, but she was “busy” last night. And at coffee this morning, she advised she will also be too busy to do our Thursday hike together this week. Yes, I’m disappointed. And yes, I understand she has a lot on her plate. I do have my pride, and I’m not going to beg anyone to spend time with me that they are unwilling or unable to freely give. And to her credit, Swan continually assures me that everything will be different for us come October. I’m looking forward to that. I’m also prepared to do what I need to do if it comes to pass that I am not a priority in her life. Stay tuned.

So, another night on the town on my own. I baked up a batch of brownies to take with me without knowing where I might be going, but that’s part of the adventure. Walking by Sloppy Joe’s, I saw Chris and Shieryl, so I came inside to have my first beer there. And stayed for several. Troy and Jim also dropped by for some pool and beers. As I prepared to move on to the Green Room, I invited them to join me there. And so began our impromptu barhop.

I shared the brownies with the Green Room girls, and they really went nuts over them. That always makes me feel good. I didn’t buy any lady drinks but gave my waitress a generous tip when I departed. We only stayed for one beer because a pool league tourney was going on, and it was uncomfortably crowded. The nice thing about the Maze is that another venue is just a few steps away, so we stepped into Wet Spot next door.

We got a nice table, and two massage girls started giving Troy and Jim shoulder rubs in exchange for lady drinks. Aine came down from the dance stage and joined us as well. A couple of beers later, Jim suggested going upstairs to La Oficina. I countered that Alaska was right through the curtain in back and they agreed avoiding the stairs was a good plan.

My Alaska favorite, Joy the dancer, was already tabled, saving me a potential lady drink or two. We had a good time teasing the bored waitresses sitting behind our table, and before we left, I rewarded them with a lady drink each. So much for saving, right?

Now, here’s the thing. I’m a semi-regular at Alaska, and it’s a sentimental favorite as the first bar I visited in the Philippines (back when it was in AC). I’m friendly with Jerry, the owner, as well. I was hanging with the guys, so I did not need a drinking companion. But I also know how much difference a lady drink commission can make in a bargirl’s daily salary. I don’t know what wages Jerry pays, but most bars give the girls a flat rate of around 300 pesos for an eight-hour shift. That’s less than a dollar an hour. I personally don’t buy double lady drinks, but the commission on a 170 peso single lady drink is 70 pesos. That may not be much, but it is better than nothing and will cover the transportation to/from work, so there’s that. And, of course, if some happy-go-lucky guy buys them several, they’ve doubled their salary for the day. So, I won’t apologize for buying a drink now and then, but I recognize I need to set limits. I’m getting there. But purchasing a gal a drink gives me a level of pleasure that is worth the expenditure for me. I honestly have no motivation to mess with these girls; I see it more as an act of charity. Like giving cookies to the kids on my hikes. The smiles make me feel good.

We decided to vacate the Maze and head down the highway to the end of town closer to home. I suggested we give the seldom visited Rosie’s a try.

That was my Tuesday.

Alright, gonna shower up and head out to feed the Hideaway girls. See you here tomorrow! Enjoy the sunshine wherever you might be!