Yep, one of those kinds of days. Here’s how it went down.

Welcome to the Philippines! I started off with my regular Tuesday morning shopping excursion to the Royal supermarket. I also added in a successful visit to the immigration office to extend my visa for an additional sixty days. Next stop was at Baypointe Hospital for an ultrasound to determine the cause of my wounded knee. My heart was buried in disappointment when I learned the machine needed to perform the scan was out of service.

The mountain gal I support asked for additional money this week and offered a massage. This is becoming a weekly occurrence, and I’m very disappointed that my generosity appears insufficient and unappreciated. I responded that the extent of my charity was 10,000 pesos a month. She could continue receiving it in 2500 weekly stipends or a monthly lump sum if preferred. These constant “emergencies” are outside of my budget and are her responsibility. She was gracious in her acceptance and reassured me how much my help means to her. So, I guess things are fine now–I just don’t want to feel like I’m being taken advantage of.

Mary came by later in the afternoon to deliver some cookies I had ordered. She’s traveling to Manila this week and asked me to help fund her trip. I declined to do so but advanced her 1000 pesos from next week’s support fund. She only seems interested in what I can do for her and offers me nothing in return. Granted, I don’t ask for anything either–I don’t want my support for her studies to be on a quid pro quo basis, but it does seem telling that she shows me almost zero affection. That’s fine; it’s just good to know.

When Beer o’clock arrived, Mary joined me briefly at Sloppy Joe’s, then departed to meet one of her girlfriends on Baloy. She invited me to come along, and I declined. I stayed for a few more beers with my buddies Chris, Troy, and Jim, then started thinking about where I might dine. A conversation amongst us ensued where everyone talked about their favorite eateries, and from this, I decided it was time for a return visit to Hops and Brews.

After I finished my meal, I decided to visit Wet Spot to put my “buy one, get one” coupon to work. I noticed Aine was on the dance stage, so I called her down to join me for a drink and some small talk. A few minutes later, the young cutie I had barfined on a “snuggle only” basis several months ago walked by, and she sat down on the other side of me, so naturally, I bought her a drink. I tried to engage them in the usual banter and small talk, but neither seemed interested. Then I put my camera in selfie mode to capture my moment with these two lovely ladies.

I wasn’t exactly pissed, and disappointed doesn’t capture the emotion either. Whatever it was, I knew I was done with both of their ungrateful asses. I had my second beer delivered, finished it without talking, and departed without leaving either of them my usual tip. I don’t know; being respectful to the customer and making sure they enjoy their visit seems to be an important part of the job when you are working for lady drink commissions. I certainly wasn’t going to pay to be subjected to their bad attitudes.

I walked up the highway and popped into Whiskey Girl to do some more of the “buy one, take one” thing. I noticed that my regular waitress and snuggle bunny Jenn was back to work. I’m not sure what was going on, but while she did come and greet me, she didn’t sit down and join me like she used to do. It wasn’t like she was busy; I saw her sitting off by herself across the room. So, I sat there alone, stewing in my juices. Again, it wasn’t exactly anger I felt, something more like disgust. And the person I was most disgusted with was me. Manager Mark, and old dart league buddy, sat with me for a while, and we had a nice chat about the bar biz. Hell, it’s hard enough being a happy customer; I’d hate to have to deal with the bullshit he puts up with daily. I finished my two drinks and departed, but I couldn’t resist letting Jenn know how disappointed I was in her behavior as I left. I’m sure I’ll be back at Whiskey Girl again (the SOB is there on Friday), but I doubt I’ll be spending time (and money) with Jenn in the future.

I crossed the highway (and lived to write about it) for my nightcap at Queen Victoria. Angie wasn’t working (I found out later she called in sick), so I settled onto my barstool to get the last drops of beer from my buy one, take one coupon. It wasn’t long before I was joined by a young woman I hadn’t seen before. She got right into her bargirl routine, giving me a shoulder massage. I didn’t tell her to leave me alone, but I didn’t encourage her to stay either. Before long, the head waitress appeared and asked me if I wanted to buy the gal beside me a drink. I’ve known this person for quite some time (I met her years ago on the Arizona floating bar), and I kind of lit into her, saying if I wanted to buy a drink, I would have asked the girl directly. I didn’t need her coming over to twist my arm. I said you should know better than to treat me like a tourist; I don’t appreciate it. She apologized and slinked off. Yeah, I overreacted, but I guess it was just a culmination of lousy bargirl experiences all night long getting the best of me.

After the head waitress departed, I told the girl rubbing on me that I usually tip for the massage, but if she preferred a lady drink, that was fine. She ordered a San Mig Apple, the dreaded double lady drink. I told her, no, I don’t buy double drinks. She could have a single. Naturally, she accepted the only alternative available, and that was that. I finished my beer, paid my tab, and took a trike home.

I had myself a big bowl of rocky road ice cream and turned on the TV. Yeah, that’s the way us grumpy old men roll, I suppose. Maybe tonight will be better.

And just so this post isn’t totally devoid of merit and value, let me share a couple of links some of my readers may find of interest.

This one talks about the renewed public standing together of the Philippines and the USA in the face of China’s aggressive action in the South China Sea. The recently completed exercise was clearly intended to send a message to the Chinese that the Philippines will be defended.

And here’s one that talks about how Korean women were allegedly used and abused by the American military in the early days of the alliance. That was before my time there, but the gals I personally saw in the biz were there by choice. Maybe history will be rewritten, and the willing prostitutes will become the equivalent of forced comfort women. Or perhaps I’m reading too much into it.

That’s all for today. See you tomorrow, hopefully with more positive perspectives.

I guess it’s just a matter of pride with me because I’m sure no one would notice the difference, but I don’t want duplicate titles on posts here at LTG. So, part of my daily blogging ritual is searching to see if my proposed title has been used previously. And after all these years (4,580 posts), that is increasingly difficult. After ten minutes of trying different ideas today, I finally gave up and settled on “Whatchamacallit.” It turns out there is a proper spelling for that word which I had to look up—just another day in the life of a blogger.

My yesterday started with the Friday group hike, and we had another good turnout. Scott and I had talked about keeping it flat, but we had a few robust attendees who preferred something more challenging. We wound up picking a route that allowed the hill climbers to deviate from the pack and meet up again further down the trail. That actually worked out pretty well.

A good day on trail.

My nighttime persona began the heavy lifting of San Miguel Zero bottles at Sloppy Joe’s. Good friends, good music, cold beer–does it get any better than that? Well, Mary messaged that she wanted to join me. Apparently, my Friday nights belong to her now. Oh, well, the more, the merrier, I suppose.

I opted not to attend the SOB last night. The Thumbstar bar does this thing called the SOP, which is really nothing more than a pissing contest with the SOB group. That being said, Thumbstar does offer a “buy one, take one” on drinks and food, and the food is decent. So, when the hunger bell rang, we survived a highway crossing and settled in for some half-price fun. Mary and I had chicken burgers, and I bought the waitresses some chicken wings. Good times.

Mary had never been to Whiskey Girl, so we made that our next and last stop for the night. It was kind of funny because my waitress confided to me that she almost asked for ID before serving Mary an alcoholic beverage. Yeah, she’s young but looks even younger. During our visit, the Whiskey Girl dance team returned from the SOB competition and excitedly announced that they had won once again–that makes three weeks in a row.

Mary spent the night at my place but kept her pants on. Yeah, she literally slept in her jeans. I took that as a pretty clear sign she wasn’t interested in any hanky-panky with me. And that’s fine; these days, I want the passion to be reciprocated, not paid for. I’m helping out with some school expenses, but that’s with no strings attached. If she doesn’t want to fool around with Grandpa, I don’t have a problem with it.

Before bed, we watched two more episodes of Lucifer together. Interestingly, Mary had been watching the series on Netflix as well, and coincidentally we were both up to Season One, Episode Eleven, at the same time, so that worked out well.

I didn’t feel like cooking this morning, so after the dog walk, I took Mary to Sit-n-Bull for breakfast.

After eating, Mary caught a Jeepney for home, and I took some steps to start my standard Saturday street walk. Except, my knee issue flared up again, and this time it was worse than ever. Still no pain, but it was numb, and I was limping. I also felt like I was going to keel over from a collapsed knee at any moment. So, I cut my walk short and headed home. But, before I could make it all the way up the hill, I had to stop and sit down for a while. I was still limping a bit when I continued, but I felt like I had better balance. I got home and took a nap, and the knee felt normal again.

This afternoon I will be paying a visit to Harley’s on Baloy to participate in raising a glass in memory of Alan, the Brit who passed away earlier this week. I also hope to check on his gal Christine, who doesn’t appear (based on FB postings) to be doing so well. After seventeen years together, I’m sure Alan’s passing left a big hole in her soul. I hope she finds a healthy way to fill that void.

I wonder what is going to happen next. I don’t have a feeling of impending doom or anything quite that dramatic, but I also can’t stymie the awareness that someone is going to be next, and I fit that dynamic. All I can think to do about that is to keep on living until I’m not around to care anymore. So, let’s get on with it!

Well, technically, it was a needle that stung me with an injection of B complex vitamins in my left butt cheek.

So, I consulted Dr. Jo and her physician husband for their advice on the intermittent numbness issue I’ve been experiencing in my left knee/leg. After some poking, prodding, and manipulation it does not appear that I have muscle or joint damage. They concluded that it is likely a nerve issue which will require an ultrasound test to confirm. They also suggested I add some B vitamins to my daily meds ingestion ritual and gave me the shot to get me started. I teasingly told Dr. Jo, “I didn’t have any pain when I came here today and now you have fixed that. Good job!”

That’s actually the good news in all this, I haven’t had to deal with pain. The numbness/tingly feeling is a bit disconcerting, but I can walk through that. The concern that prompted the doctor’s visit was having the knee collapse and causing a fall. The ramifications of that happening up on the mountain is scary as hell. It is somewhat comforting that this issue seems to be fleeting–I felt it briefly in the supermarket yesterday but had no issues on a rather challenging hike this morning. So, we’ll see. Looking at it from a positive perspective, if this is the worst I have to complain about, I’m doing pretty good for an old fucker.

I woke up to the sad news this morning that another person I’ve known here has passed away. Alan was a long-time resident and former manager at the Palm Tree Resort (that’s where I met him) and an all-around good guy. He had returned to the UK a couple of weeks ago for some medical treatment (I think it was prostate related). This morning his sister posted that Alan had died in his sleep last night. I feel very bad for his sweetheart Christine who was devoted to him. I sent her my condolences and told her to let me know if she needs any kind of help. She is facing tough times I’m sure.

I sometimes joke about the Barretto expat community resembling a retirement village. Most of us here are retired old farts, so it shouldn’t really be all that surprising that the death rate among us is going to be relatively high. I’m not all that morbidly inclined, but I can’t help but wonder who is going to be next, recognizing that one day it will be me. A good reminder to make the best of the time you have before it runs out. I’m not sure I make the best use of my time, but I try to do the things I enjoy best. Maybe that’s enough.

I’m not a big fan of Facebook and don’t engage there nearly as much as I used to. And don’t get me started on what a total douchebag Mark Zuckerman has proven himself to be. Still, it has its value in some ways. For example, it helps you keep in touch with old friends you might not otherwise ever hear from again after you’ve moved away–I routinely send birthday greetings to folks back in the USA and Korea that I’ll probably never see again in person. For some reason, I was thinking of an old friend from my Prescott, AZ days, Joe Heydorn. I did a search on Facebook and found an account that I thought might be him, so I sent him a message:

Remember me? I was the best man at your wedding sometime last century.

Six weeks later, I got this response:

Hello, John. It was exactly 40 years ago yesterday. Thanks to your training, I did 37+ years with the USPS. I’ll never forgive you.

HaHa! Well, I’m glad to hear he’s doing well.

And of course, the other thing Facebook provides me is a flashback with its daily “memories” feature. I was pretty much a fucked up mess during my last year in Korea which is all on me and something I really regret–wasting what could have been some of the best times of my life. So, five years ago (about two weeks before I moved to the PI) I posted this:

Tonight I’ll continue down the road to my destiny. I’ll begin the evening with my Hideaway feeding and then decide where I might drown my sorrows next. I’m joking (mostly) about that second part–I’m over the sorrows and well into the acceptance mode. This week I had a gal beseeching me for a “second chance” and didn’t relent on my denial. When she kept pleading “Why?” I simply responded, “Because I don’t need the drama that comes with you.” That seemed to shut her up.

Alright, that’s it for now. I’m going to go spend some time with Lucifer.

I’m not calling yesterday’s Hare, Leech My Nuggets, the Devil or anything, but it was hot and hellish on the Hash trail yesterday. Or at least the half of it I did was. Still got in a tad over 7K, including the walk from my place. I’ll put up the photos from the hike at the end of this post.

So, Angie (the gal I recently met at Queen Victoria) brought her friend Rose along to join us on the Hash trail. They arrived at my place a little after 11:00 a.m. and I had my helper fry up some chicken wings for our lunch (I heated some broccoli for our side dish). With lunch out of the way, there was still an hour to kill before it was time to head out for the Hash. It had been months since I’d turned on my TV, but I wanted to keep my guests entertained, so I started scrolling through the offerings on Netflix. I admit some of the shows looked interesting and I also noticed the new season of Manifest is available. I guess the fact that I’ve not felt compelled to continue where I left off last year is a review of sorts. Anyway, Rose said she liked scary shows, so we clicked on a series called Lucifer.

I’d never even heard of this show, but it ran for six seasons (three on Fox and three more on Netflix. I found the first episode of season one very entertaining and enjoyable, enough so that I’m thinking about squeezing an hour or two into my daily routine to put that Netflix subscription I’m paying for to use. Stay tuned.

Anyway, it was a good day on trail overall. My guests drank enough to make the 300 pesos entrance fee a bargain (especially since I paid). Oh, and I just remembered this incident. Someone (we didn’t see who) had dropped a 500 peso bill just outside the front door at Johansson’s. Angie rushed out to pick it up, and when she sat down she exclaimed, “Now I can buy milk for my baby.” I was thinking whoever dropped the money would likely be looking for it, and I was curious to see what Angie would do. Sure enough, a gal was walking around near the door and I asked her what was she looking for. “I dropped my 500 pesos somewhere.” Angie immediately said, “I found it” and returned the money. Good for her. I gave her 1000 pesos and said you can now buy twice as much milk for being honest. Oh, and later on I put the money dropper on the ice for “littering.” Heh.

Rose and Angie were still finishing their beers when I told them goodnight and headed out. I was hungry (I’d bought them something to eat earlier) and had a hankering for my favorite from Mangos:

Did my nightcap at Sloppy Joe’s just across the highway. Only one other customer and the waitress said the Hashers had all gone to It Doesn’t Matter. Yeah, I figured but I wasn’t wanting to walk that far. Had my beer and caught a trike for home.

Speaking of It Doesn’t Matter, looks like I’ll be spending Sunday afternoon there this week:

I’m going to visit Dr. Jo this afternoon to discuss some issues I’m having with my left knee and leg. No pain, but occasionally numb and tingly. I was in a walk-it-off mode yesterday morning, at least until my knee collapsed and I found myself sprawled on the ground. I was worried about doing the Hash but had no issues on the hike. This morning at the grocery store, it went tingly again. Makes me nervous that the knee might give out at the wrong time and place and I’ll be in deep doo-doo. My internet sleuthing didn’t turn up anything consistent with my symptoms, so we’ll see what the good doctor has to say.

Sees ya all tomorrey then. (Yeah, it’s probably brain damage)

Try as I might, I just can’t seem to avoid drama, even if it doesn’t directly involve me.

Mary invited herself to join me for last night’s SOB, and I accepted her invitation. After the show, she wanted to come home with me, and I didn’t resist that overture either. I went to bed, and she lay beside me, busy on her phone. I actually found it rather irritating because I was feeling a little frisky. Anyway, suddenly, she sprang up and said she had to go. Apparently, her drug-addicted uncle had beat up her grandmother. This has been going on for some time. Why anyone would tolerate that kind of behavior is a mystery to me, but I guess Granny can’t find a way to tell her son to fuck off. The bottom line for me was I woke up alone again this morning.

My part-time helper, who lives in the maid’s room downstairs, messaged me with a plea for 6,000 pesos to bail her brother out of jail. He got busted in a drug raid at his friend’s house in Subic. His story is he wasn’t aware his friend was involved with drugs and is an innocent victim in all of this. He’s making other allegations of police corruption, but methinks he might be protesting too much. If you choose to run with the wrong crowd, this kind of thing will happen. Anyway, I made the loan because it would suck to be stuck in a Filipino jail indefinitely waiting for a trial, especially if you are innocent. If he is guilty, he’ll be back in soon enough. One of my friends with benefits got busted for drugs, and I ceased all contact with her after that. I do not want to be around anyone doing illegal shit; the potential consequences for innocent bystanders are too severe.

This morning Darlene messaged me pleading for a second chance. I didn’t give her one but tried to be nice in my rejection. Her parting shot was that I give up too quickly. I bit my tongue and let it go. Who needs the drama?

Hmm, I see now that I was writing about darts drama back in 2018. I feel a little bad about that now because the Drama King I wrote about died a few months later.

UPDATE: I was just chatting with one of the Cheap Charlies gals I know, and she said lots of the staff there are afraid of me because I throw “tantrums.” Shit. Maybe I attract drama because I’m so dramatic. Still, whenever I’ve been upset in Cheap Charlies, I had valid reasons. But I guess that is also a matter of perspective. Something to think about.

No drama involved with the Friday group hike. The closest we came was a new landowner who has chosen to erect fences that interfered with the My Bitch trail. We were able to find a walk-around this time, but this kind of thing doesn’t bode well for the future.

It was an otherwise pleasant hike. Here are some photos from along the way:

The SOB was at Alaska Club last night. Before the show, I went to Angel’s Bakery next door for something to eat.

The SOB went well, with the Whiskey Girl team taking first place. A very close contest this week.

Alright, let’s see what Saturday night holds in store. Thanks for dropping in.

To whom it may concern.

I’m heading out to San Antonio soon, so I need to fill the void here at LTG before I leave. I’m pretty sure I won’t be in any condition to write when I return this evening. So, here’s the lowdown since my previous post.

I checked into my room at The Pub Hotel. I’ve stayed here on previous occasions when I was enduring an extended power or water outage at home.

Anyway, I got what I came for at The Pub–a shower, a toilet I can flush, and a good night’s sleep. I did have some issues with the wifi. I was on the third floor, accessible only by stairs. I didn’t ask about the password when I checked in, so I had to go back to the lobby. The receptionist said it was on the room key fob. It wasn’t, so she handed me a slip of paper. When I got back to the room later that night, the password didn’t work. So, it was back to the lobby once more. The same receptionist said to try it with a five or a seven (the password contained a 6) so, I went back upstairs, and still a no-go. Fuck it. I wasn’t going to stay all night without internet access (my phone wouldn’t make a mobile hotspot for some reason, either). I packed up my laptop (planning to come back to shower in the morning, I left everything else in the room) and went back downstairs. There was a male receptionist this time, and I told him how disappointed I was with a hotel that didn’t provide working wifi. He apologized and said, “Let me help you with that, sir,” so we headed upstairs once more. It took a few minutes, but he was successful in getting both my phone and my laptop connected to the wifi. Woo-hoo, I got to sleep in the room I paid for, after all!

After my shower, I dressed and prepared to attend the SOB event at Queen Victoria. I had time to grab some dinner, so I ordered fish and chips at the Outback pool bar.

While I was dining, a woman greeted me by name as she passed and went to talk with the bar manager. When she left, the manager asked me how I knew her, and I honestly responded damned if I know. It turns out she used to work at Mugshots bar, and I guess I met her there. She was applying for work at Outback, and I gave her a recommendation. I mean, if she remembered my name after a brief one-time visit to Mugshots, she’s got what it takes to make customers feel at home.

Queen Victoria is right across the highway from Outback, and I successfully managed a crossing of the busy road without getting squashed. The SOB was entertaining, and I had a good tablemate to chat with. Whiskey Girl finished first, and all the bars placed where I had voted them, so I must have judged correctly. No pictures to share, sorry!

During a break in the show, one of the guys sitting behind me asked about the Hash and whether he could attend. I told him everyone was welcome and where and when we meet. He thanked me, and I asked him how he knew I was a Hasher. “I read your blog.” After all these years, it still astounds me to run into a complete stranger (this guy lives in Malaysia) that knows all about me from the diary of my life that is Long Time Gone.

After the SOB, I decided to continue on the path to drunkenness with a visit to Sloppy Joe’s. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t happen again–another encounter with a stranger who follows LTG. Now, remember that I only get about 200 unique visitors a day, so it’s not like I’m famous or anything like that guy who writes Big Hominids Hairy Chasms. To meet two of my readers in a single night in a little backwater town like Barretto must be astronomically against all odds. So much for the safety of anonymity.

Anyway, there were some real-life acquaintances at Sloppy Joes’s, including a Hash friend, Dave, who will be participating in today’s chili cookoff. Good luck and see you there. It was also another Hasher’s birthday, and Dave was buying everyone drinks in her honor. After downing a couple of shots of something, I knew I’d best be getting back to the hotel while I still could. (I already told the part where I almost had to leave the hotel in pursuit of internet access. It turns out I’d rather be home with no water than trapped without the comfort of the world wide web at my fingertips. Anyway, all’s well that ends well.)

This morning on my way to breakfast, I ran into Dave loading his car with supplies for the trip to San Antonio and the chili cookoff.

About that breakfast.

And then this photo popped up in my Facebook memories today:

Just a song before I go
A lesson to be learned
Traveling twice the speed of sound
It's easy to get burned

Update: My water has been restored! Yay!

'Twas in another lifetime
One of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue
The road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
A creature void of form
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya
Shelter from the storm"

We’ve had unseasonable rain these past two days. Whether that’s related to my current water outage, I can’t say. As I understand the third-hand version of events, Subic Water has a broken pipeline somewhere, and they’ll fix it as soon as they can find it. In the meantime, the residents of Alta Vista can’t flush a toilet or take a shower. In a display of just how confident I am that the problem will be resolved promptly, I’ve already booked a room for tonight.

My “date” with Nerissa went okay except for her arriving ten minutes late to our agreed-upon rendevous location at the 7/11 on Baloy Road. I got there ten minutes early because that’s what being on-time means to me. Filipinas are so notorious for being late that they even have a name for it–Filipina time. I was disappointed that Nerissa wasn’t an exception to the rule.

Anyway, she made some amends when she suggested that we walk to Baloy Beach, so that’s what we did. She’d never been to the floating bar, so we started out there. Given the stormy weather, we were the only customers. The water was rougher than normal as well, so the bar was rockin’, but not in the good kind of way. I was a little worried at first that Nerissa was going to experience a bout of seasickness, but she adapted quickly and wound up enjoying the motion.

So, we enjoyed a few beers on board, and then it was time for dinner. I took Nerissa to Da’Kudos, which has the same owner and menu as one of my favorites, Mango’s. Alas, but not the same kitchen crew. I ordered the grilled pork chops, and Nerissa went with seafood chowder and fried calamari. It took over forty-five minutes to get our food. The food itself was okay, but not really worth the wait. We ate and left.

I took Nerissa for a nighttime beach walk which was surprisingly pleasant. My sight isn’t that good, but I saw something floating in the dark water and jokingly said, “It’s a dead body!” A voice responded, “No, I’m okay.” That gave me a startle and a chuckle because I didn’t really think it was a human.

I took Nerissa to McCoy’s beach bar for our nightcap. She wanted to videoke and said for me to go first. Well, I was drunk enough to be in a singing mood, so I did my rendition of Patsy Cline’s Crazy, one of my videoke standards.

We needed to get some assistance with making additional song selections, but the bar staff at McCoy’s couldn’t be bothered to pay us any attention. I was also drunk enough to let that fact of life here piss me off, so we finished our beers and left. Walked back to the trike stand on the National Highway, where I intended to put Nerissa in one for her ride home, but she insisted on riding with me, then dropping me off at home and continuing on her way. Okay, fine, so that’s what we did.

I had a message from Nerissa when I woke up, saying she made it home safely and thanking me for the night out. You’re welcome.

I had a nice chat with Hazel, the gal I met on Date In Asia, this morning. I’m looking forward to meeting her in person next week. I think she is too. Not a bargirl, early 30s, licensed caregiver, and has worked in several countries overseas. The kind of girl my readers have suggested would be more to my liking. One step at a time, but we are off to a positive start, I think.

None of the Friday hikers were up for a walk in the rain, so I did my standard solo street walk in Barretto.

I saw a lot of pussy on this morning’s hike too:

And when I got home, my Buddy boy was so excited to see me:

Oh, I almost forgot about my lunch yesterday–a turkey dinner with all the fixins.

Now I guess I’ll go pack my bag, then head into town for a shower. I’m doing the SOB tonight for the first time in a month or so, and I’m almost looking forward to it. And since I’m staying in a hotel room nearby, my drunken stumble home shouldn’t be a problem. Well, except for the crossing the highway part.

I’m leaving for San Antonio and the Fralics at the Fleet Reserve Association (FRA) at noon. Tomorrow’s main event is the chili cookoff, so we’ll see how that goes. Mary invited herself along, but that’s okay. What kind of Sugar Daddy would I be if I said no?

During my walk this morning, that Bob Dylan tune that provided the title and introduction for today’s post came up on a playlist Spotify suggested for me. I hadn’t heard it for decades, and I rather enjoyed listening to it again. Perhaps you will too.

Well, I'm living in a foreign country
But I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge
Someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock
To when God and her were born
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya
Shelter from the storm"

There is something very weird going on. I’ve been here almost five years and have never seen anything like it. Maybe it’s all coincidence, but damn, it makes me feel like I need to reevaluate what being generous means. Or revisit Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). I’m not saying that all the pleadings are illegitimate, but I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, and I’m going to have to toughen up.

#1. Joy’s phone needed to be repaired, and I agreed to meet her at the repair shop. Anticipating that the repairs would cost more than the phone was worth, I erased my backup phone and brought it with me. Enjoy your almost-new Samsung A-23 Joy.

#2. Maria wanted to give me a massage so she could buy milk for her baby. I told her I was busy.

#3. MJ needed medicine for her daughter and wanted to give me a massage to earn extra money. I told her I wasn’t in the mood but gave her an additional 500 pesos in her weekly “allowance” for the meds.

#4. Mary’s grandmother was sick, and she needed to take her to the doctor. To be fair, it was the first time Mary had ever directly asked me for cash. I gave it to her.

#5. Agnes messaged me that her electricity had been shut off, and her kids were crying because it was so hot in the house. In a weak moment, I agreed to help her out, and she met me at Annex bar to pick up the money. While she was there, I bought her a mango juice and asked if she was working tomorrow. She matter-of-factly told me that she was taking the day off to run errands. I was gobsmacked. You don’t have money to pay your electric bill, but you take time off work anyway? It didn’t appear she understood the connection. In that moment, I realized I had just violated Rule #1.

#6. Mae wanted to come see me because she lacked the funds to pay for the baby she is about to give birth to. That’s right, she’s 8+ months pregnant and wants to fool around for money. I didn’t even respond.

#7. Aine needs money to pay her bills and wanted to give me the opportunity to provide her with 1500 pesos to do so. I’ll give her credit that her request was more of an offer than blatant begging, but I still chose not to respond.

Again, it is not unusual for me to get these kinds of requests. But getting all of these in one day was borderline overwhelming. I’ve always tried to do what I can to help people in need, but I live on a budget and can’t help everyone. I’ve been providing regular support for MJ, but it seems like it is never enough. That’s frustrating. And the requests from people I don’t know that well, like bargirl acquaintances, are irritating. I’m not completely unsympathetic to their tales of woe, but the voice in my head is screaming, “And why, exactly, is that my responsibility to pay for?”

Anyway, that’s my rant for today. I need to toughen up. I’ve blocked people in the past, and I’ll probably reinstitute that practice when I feel like the only thing we have in common is my money.

In other news, I grilled some steaks yesterday for the first time in several months.

So, the meat was tender and flavorful. And about as thick as a slice of luncheon meat. I gave that feedback to the local vendor I bought them from, and she said I could request to have the meat sliced as thick as I wanted. Well, okay then, I’ll give them another try. Those four thin steaks would have been okay as two. The only problem is they ain’t cheap…that’s 2200 pesos ($44.) worth of beef in the first photo above.

Oh well, what else am I going to spend the money on, needy bargirls? I need to reevaluate my priorities, I suppose.

My Tuesday night bar crawl took me to Cheap Charlies, Annex, Sloppy Joe’s (rapidly becoming my favorite bar), and Alaska. We (with my pal Chris) had control of the music last night and played more of our favorites. Other patrons shouted out their requests, and it made for some interactive fun. I’d gone to Alaska to see Virginia (damn, I love that line), but she had been tabled by another customer. That’s the way it works in the girly bar business–first cum, first served) and I have no issues with that. Seeing the other dancers on stage with forlorn expressions that I wasn’t picking a substitute drinking partner made me a little sad for them, so I had my waitress bring me some 50 peso notes, and I handed out eight of them to the girls. Yeah, it’s a small thing, but better than nothing. I certainly would have spent more than that on drinks for Virginia, so win-win!

And that was my day.