Capistrano Falls that is. The Wednesday Walkers changed things up yesterday and had ourselves trucked out to the end of the road in Gordon Heights, Olongapo. Then we hoofed it up the mountain and down to the falls. A short, but challenging walk there and back again. The falls were certainly impressive enough, much more so than I’ve seen on previous excursions to so-called waterfalls. I’ve got some photos of the journey to share with you:
Hideaway is aptly named, it’s not easy to find. It is situated mid-way down an alley off the highway, but other than the wall mural above, there is no signage. So, unless you just happened to look in the alley as you passed by you’d never even know there was a bar located here.
I’m sure most patrons of the bar discovered the place by word-of-mouth and perhaps more than any other drinking establishment in town, it has a neighborhood pub feel about it. Think Cheers.
I’m far from a regular here, in large part because Hideaway is 2,344 steps away from my house. I pass by so many other places along the way that I rarely make it this far down the highway. Oh, and as a side note, as I do these bar reviews I’ll be doing furthest/closest alternations, eventually finishing somewhere in the middle. Bet you can’t wait for that!
Alright, as mentioned above, the bar was sold last week to a long-time bar manager from Angeles City named Griff. He wasn’t there last night when I was, so I haven’t met him yet. No idea what changes, if any, he has in mind from the Dive In concept. Despite my limited past patronage, I was recognized by one of the customers, Wayne, the fiance of my ex-crush, Jessa. He seems to be a really nice guy and I’m happy for her. Jessa was actually the reason for most of my past visits to this bar. The only current employee I know there now is Ken (a female), but she was leaving just as I arrived.
Let’s go inside, shall we?
So, a neighborhood pub where all the regulars know each other. Good music playing and the customers can request whatever songs they want to hear. Drinking companions are available if you so desire, and the lady drinks are comparatively inexpensive at 150 pesos. A cutie named Rose eventually came and sat down next to me, but I was already preparing to leave. My beer was also fairly priced at 70 pesos.
There is really nothing not to like about Hideaway. Since I didn’t know anyone other than Wayne across the bar, I wasn’t really engaged in the “regulars” banter taking place. Drank my two beers, listened to the music, missed Jessa, then called the bartender over to pay my tab. I handed him a 500 peso note for a 140 peso bill and he didn’t have change. Apparently, no one else in the bar did either. I saw him send one of the gals out with a 1000 peso bill, but she returned a couple of minutes without change. Then the bartender left the bar while I sat there waiting. And waiting.
The bartender eventually returned with my change and apologized for the delay, explaining that everyone had been paying with large bills. Okay, it happens. I’m sure I’ll find my way back to Hideaway at some point in the future.
Hey, I just had a thought. I ought to start ranking the bars in my order of personal preference as I do these reviews. Why not? Here’s where we are thus far:
Sadly, I had to terminate another participant in my FWB program. Her crime? Excessive begging. Pestering me for money several times a week pretty much defeats the whole purpose of being an FWB. It’s a big turn-off for me and destroys the illusion of having a mutually beneficial relationship.
This gal was the nearest inductee into FWB and the warning signs were there pretty much from the beginning. I decided to give her a chance though. Then last week she kept after me to let her come over. I told her I wasn’t feeling well so it was a no-go. Then she asked for an “advance” on her next payment saying she lacked funds to feed her kids. I agreed to advance her 1000 pesos. On Monday she again started sending numerous messages wanting to get together. I was Hashing and couldn’t respond right away, but she went into the whole litany of her financial emergencies and begged me to let her come over. Tuesday is usually a good day for me to do an FWB hookup, so I eventually responded accordingly. Then she started in with a whole new line of begging–pleading with me to not deduct the advance I had given her last week. That’s when I knew it wasn’t going to work. When she arrived at my door on Tuesday, I handed her 3000 pesos and told her it was her severance pay. She didn’t understand what that meant, so I explained to her that I wasn’t responsible for supporting all of her needs and I didn’t want any more of her drama in my life. She just stared at me, still not comprehending, so I bluntly stated “I don’t want to see you anymore.” She nodded and left.
I’m not heartless and I did feel bad about it. But I’m not going to live my life being hounded by parasites. She’s the third one (out of four) that I’ve had to terminate for similar reasons. So, yes, perhaps my FWB idea is not as practical as I thought it might be. I’m meeting up with a new candidate on Friday and we’ll see how that goes. I may need to come up with a brand new plan.
I attended a birthday gathering at the Kitchenette last evening. Turned out to be quite fun. I know the birthday gal from darts, but I’m otherwise not that well acquainted with her. She’s become a regular at the Kitchenette though and she generously sprang for two cases of beer which made for a festive evening. Sadly, it was also a “bon voyage” party as she will be joining her boyfriend in Sweden next week. Good luck and best wishes to you, Beng.
And that was my day. It could be worse, I could be this guy:
As seen on PowerLine: How long can the charade of “President” Joe Biden go on before senior officials in Washington start to chat amongst themselves about how to end it? This 14-second video below shows Biden trying to talk over the band that has started to play, and DOCTOR Jill Biden walking quickly up to him to stop the embarrassment. It sounds like she says “Look at me,” following which the “President” begins to wander off aimlessly and looking confused.
I don’t want to downplay the gravity of the situation, but yesterday’s Hash trail did not result in my downfall. It could have been pure luck I suppose because the going got steep on the downhill run, and yet I somehow managed to keep my feet despite the efforts of Mick Jaggar and Keith Richards to undermine me. If you get my meaning.
Anyhoo, for the most part, I enjoyed the trail. We started on the familiar backstreets of Barretto, did a challenging but moderate climb I’d done before, and then took a new way down that I reckon I will never voluntarily try again. Finished with a stroll through Marian Hills, then up to Alta Vista, and concluded our hike on Baloy Beach at our On-Home venue, Da’ Kudos.
Hopefully, the photographs will tell the story better than I can:
A pretty good one, all in all.
Also the closest bar to my house, a mere 1,338 steps away. Queen Victoria is on the National Highway near Baloy Beach Road and the border to Subic town. It’s also one of the largest bars in town with a big room in the back where the live music is performed. The front half of the bar features a pool table and two dartboards. It is fully staffed with attractive and thirsty waitresses, but I have never encountered any “buy me a drink” pressure from them.
When Queen Victoria first opened, I was a semi-regular there. The owner is a Brit (big surprise, huh?) and it was a nice place to chill and chuck some darts. In fact, I was planning to host a weekly tournament there. That didn’t wind up happening due to circumstances beyond my control. The owner returned to the UK shortly before the pandemic travel restrictions hit and the bar has not fared well since his departure. I’m honestly surprised it has managed to stay in business at all. I was the only customer on a recent Saturday night and I could hear the band in the back warming up. I’m thinking “why?” and “how much are they paying for live music no one will hear?”. I personally don’t really enjoy loud bands in a bar. It’s tolerable at Queen Vic because they play in a separate room. Just not my thing but I know others like the live shows.
So, bottom line is that Queen Victoria is a friendly place and has the potential to be a whole lot better. Hopefully, that will happen when the absentee owner is allowed to return to the Philippines.
…to deserve this?
I guess that shows you where my mind is at. No big surprise there, though.
So, it’s Hash Monday which means breakfast is about all I have to post about today. I did get the first “Bars of Barretto” entry completed, you can scroll down to the next post to read about Redz Pub.
I also come across a new way to burn calories:
And while we are on the subject, I couldn’t help but think of Kevin Kim and his quest to lose weight on his cross country hikes when I saw this one:
I’ll be back with more tomorrow!
So, here we go with the first bar in the “Bars of Barretto” series. Redz is located the furthest distance from where I live–2,393 steps away, around a 30-minute walk. That’s one of the reasons I’m almost never patronizing Redz–too many distractions between here and there. In fact, this visit was the first since the pandemic bullshit first started. Back then the bar was called Red Baron. I don’t know if ownership changed or just the name. I wasn’t really a fan of Red Baron either. When I’d venture all the way out to the Arizona Resort it was to visit the floating bar. Now that I think about it, I most frequently drank in this bar when I was a tourist staying at Arizona. Back then it was called Score bar and it was a fun hangout. I mentioned it in my trip report here from September 2016.
My, how times have changed. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find at Redz, but those vibes from happier days were nowhere to be found. I was a little surprised to be greeted by name when I first entered. Turns out the bartender (I can’t remember her name) used to be a waitress on the floating bar back in those carefree times. There’s always a familiar face to be found in my little town it seems. We chatted briefly and she introduced me to her cute little assistant working behind the bar. I snapped this picture of the pool table area:
I wanted to get more photos, including the gals behind the bar but was told photography is not allowed. You know, I understand that posting photos on social media of violations of COVID protocols can be a problem, but the bar was practically empty and no such violations were taking place. So not being able to document my visit was a bit of a buzz killer.
I’m not exactly sure how I would characterize the type of bar this is. They call it a pub, so I guess that’s the genre they are going for. But a room full of bargirls also suggests they are striving for girly bar status. This seemed to be confirmed when the bartender suggested I buy her assistant a lady drink. I declined to do so, pointing out that if I’m not even allowed to take a picture I didn’t see the point in buying her a drink.
I looked at my drink chit and saw that my beer was 110 pesos ($2.20) which is among the most expensive bars in town. I’d say the average price of a beer in Barretto is 80 pesos, and I’ve seen it as cheap as 65. Given the chilly atmosphere (especially after I declined to buy a lady drink) I decided to make this a one beer and out visit.
Sorry there is not something meatier to share in this first bar report. Suffice to say, I found nothing at Redz that would warrant a return visit anytime soon.
I ventured out to the far side of Barretto last evening to visit Redz Pub. It will be the first bar featured in the “Bars of Barretto” series. Since I was on that side of town anyway, and the girls at Marick’s bar had been hinting about wanting tacos, I stopped by The Coffee Shop, a local restaurant said to have the best tacos in town. I don’t know about that, but they are certainly the biggest.
I didn’t have one last night, but my past experience was along the lines of bigger doesn’t make better. But, lots of people think otherwise apparently. They were really busy last night, and I was the only non-Filipino there. Service really sucked and I wondered if maybe my white skin wasn’t welcome. Ah well, I got my order and left.
So, I delivered four tacos, two hard and two soft, to Marick’s. There were four girls working last night, although Marick didn’t come in until later. They all shared one and had some rice (naturally) on the side. Whatever rocks your boat.
Now, my style is to enjoy my beer and provide lady drinks to the gal who is taking care of me. Occasionally I will treat two girls if I am the only customer. So, last night it was the cutie pictured above who was helping to empty my wallet. A couple of other customers came in during the course of my visit, and one of them bought a lady drink for one of the other girls. Later, when I was once again the solitary customer, I ordered another round for me and “my” girl. She pointed to her co-worker sitting on the other side of me and whispered, “what about her?” I shrugged and said, I’m only buying one lady drink–you decide who gets it. She came back with the drink and kept it for herself. That gave me a smile, generosity only goes so far I guess. Anyway, the other girl was the only one who hadn’t gotten a drink all night and she had half-assedly rubbed my back a little, so I told her to get herself a drink.
Then the owner, who had recently arrived, pointed to the other two girls and said “what about them?” And I lost it and went off on her. “What about them?” I loudly exclaimed. “I’ve been here buying drinks all night. I brought the girls food. Why is it my responsibility to buy every girl in the bar a drink?” She backed down immediately, but she had chilled my buzz. I finished my drink and left. Not sure when or if I’ll be back. The thing I hate most in the bar experience is getting drink pressure. It usually comes from one of the girls “please buy me drink” which is irritating enough. But to have the bar owner try and shame me into buying drinks was just over the top.
So, I guess this is a good time to talk about the various types of bars you’ll see in the Bars of Barretto series. Almost all the bars go with the “lady drink” option–you buy a drink for your waitress or “guest relations officer”, and she provides company during your bar visit. The only exceptions I can think of here in Barretto would be the hotel restaurant bars. A bar with lady drinks is pretty much a win-win for the bar and the girl. The drinks are usually around 200 pesos each, and the girl gets half of that as commission. As I understand it, some bars have drink quotas and failure to achieve that goal results in a reduction of the daily salary, which might only be 200 pesos ($4.) to begin with. Yeah, that’s fucked up. But that’s the system that is in place and that’s why I try to be somewhat generous when I can.
Within the bar universe, you have what I call regular bars. Just a place to go and have a drink, chat with friends, listen to music, or whatever else eases your mind, including the attentions of a lovely bar girl. The sports bars fall into this category as well, offering live games from back home, be it rugby, football, soccer, or cricket. I’m a regular in the regular type bars.
Another type of venue that is popular used to be called “go-go” bars, and they featured a stage with scantily clad dancing girls. Under the current pandemic rules, bars are not allowed to have dancers on stage, so these establishments have been especially hard hit. Nowadays the gals just sit around on stage like eye candy, waiting for some lucky guy to call them down for a drink or two. I liked them a lot better back in the old days.
And so what category does that leave? Ah, prostitution bars. Well, technically they do not exist. I did a lengthy post on Juicy Bars and Prostitution back in 2009, comparing and contrasting my experiences in Korea and the Philippines. If you are interested in more background on that subject, click the link and give it a read.
I would argue that these days prostitution bars are a thing of the past, but of course, prostituion is still a thriving business. There was a time when you could find the dancer or waitress of your dreams, pay the bar directly (popularly as a bar fine or early work release) and take the girl out of the bar for a night of debauchery. That method didn’t pass the smell test with the authorities and certain do-gooder NGOs, and after a series of raids and incarcerations, the practice is virtually non-existent nowadays. Instead, in certain bars when you connect with a sexy lady and want to do “take-out”, you negotiate directly with the gal. Assuming an agreed-upon price is reached, you pay the young lady and she is responsible for reimbursing the bar for her absence from work. This keeps the bar out of the direct transaction of money for sex. The downside is that if the girl fails to perform as promised, the guy who didn’t get screwed has little recourse to get his money refunded. Not a perfect system for sure and also one I almost never participate in. Why should I? I have Friends With Benefits.
Anyway, as we start visiting the bars around Barretto you’ll get a better feel for the way things work and I’ll elaborate more on what I personally look for in a bar.
Little by little, my health continues to improve. I’m beginning to fear that some of my issues may be age-related, but I’d rather keep getting older than not.
And I’ll leave you a funny from The Far Side:
Well, I woke up this morning and I took that as a good sign that I remain among the living. What are the odds? I tease, of course, but I almost had to force myself to go out last night, and even after I left the house, I considered turning around and going back home. That’s a clear indication of just how crappy I felt. But I persevered in my endeavor and 2,512 steps later I plopped myself down at It Doesn’t Matter. The outside area of the bar was pretty packed and my usual stool at the far end of the counter was taken. So, I found myself seated at the “owner’s table” with one of the two proprietors, Bob, and a couple of guys I know from the Hash. That changed things up a bit and instead of sitting one-on-one with Roan I found myself engaging in some nice back and forth with my table mates.
When I told one of the guys about my recent bout with whatever this is, he told me he had scored some ivermectin and had been taking it for an illness similar to mine. To be clear, not COVID, he’s been vaxxed and I’ve been infected, but what the hell, if it kills worms in horses it ought to destroy what been messin’ with me this past few days. Yeah, yeah, I know that is not what this particular drug is intended for, but I began using drugs for unapproved purposes before a lot you readers were even born. I tried about everything going during my wild teen years (never used anything requiring a needle though) and lived to tell about it. So, I didn’t hesitate to pop the two tablets I was supplied figuring it couldn’t hurt and might make things better. And as I mentioned above, I woke up this morning, so there’s that.
Did the invermectin help? I can’t really say. I’m better today than yesterday, but that might have been the case regardless of what I ingested. The important thing is I’m back to being close to normal. Even had the will power to go out and do a 6K hike this morning.
This afternoon one of my FWB’s came over to the house and gave me a relaxing and satisfying massage. So I’m feeling pretty dandy at the moment.
On my walk this morning I spotted another potential way I might lose my life here:
My carport here at the house has become quite busy:
Well, it is fixin’ to be Saturday night, and those new meds have me in the mood to do some horsin’ around. *ahem* I’m thinking I’ll begin my night with documenting the first bar in my Bars of Barretto feature. Stay tuned.
Well, damn. Yesterday felt like progress, especially in losing the cough. But it’s back today and I feel like shit again. Didn’t even attempt the Friday walking group hike. Oh well. Little by little I suppose.
One thing that is rather strange and I can only assume is illness-related, is that I haven’t vaped since Monday. It wasn’t like I said to myself, “don’t put anything into your lungs until you feel better”, it was just a matter of having no craving or desire to do my vaping routine. I’ve been a big-time vaper for seven or eight years now and before that a rather heavy smoker. That I have no compunction compulsion to inhale nicotine seems bizarre. Anyway, at this point, I’m going to go with the flow and try to end my habit. Vaping isn’t anywhere near as bad as smoking, but not as healthy as nothing. Plus maintaining the equipment is a pain in the ass. We’ll see how that goes.
The morning wasn’t a complete waste at least. I came across a crockpot recipe that I decided to give a try.
Last night I changed things up a bit in my bar-hopping routine. I started out at Queen Victoria for a couple, then crossed the street and visited Outback. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been to either one and frankly, last night was a pretty good reminder of why. I did get to thinking about doing a series of posts highlighting the Bars of Barretto. Years ago I reviewed the Dart Bars of Itaewon in a series of posts. This would be something similar–one man’s perspective on the drinking venues here in my little town. Does anyone like that idea?
After I left Outback, I went to my regular hangout at Mango’s. My usual staff servers were off, and the gal that was there left me sitting with an empty beer bottle for a period of time that exceed my tolerance level. So, instead of dining and drinking, it was one and out for me. I moved up the street and ate at Maris’ Kitchenette instead. Had chicken wings and fries, which hit the spot. The owner and two of her friends were busy drinking Filipino-style–shots of Emperador rum and Coke. I didn’t think it was a good look, but that’s not my business. The two workers were sober and diligent at least.
My final stop on the night was Wet Spot, one of my favorite bars that for some reason I just don’t visit that often these days. Bought a couple of drinks for the food waitress and she’s now my newest Facebook friend. The owner came in and we had a very nice chat. I was happy to hear that his bars are at least in a break-even status and like everyone, he’s looking forward to better days to come when the tourists return. In the meantime, he’s employing a bunch of friendly gals (must have been 25 or more in there) that would otherwise be without work. Good on you, Dave!
So, in one of the seldom frequented bars mentioned above, I chatted with a bartender I’ve been acquainted with for quite a while now. When I offered the standard greeting of “how you doing?”, she responded not so good. Turns out she is currently experiencing some medical issues (gynecological in nature, so I didn’t press for details) that she said require surgery. And of course, she doesn’t have the 35,000 pesos ($700.) required to have the operation. So, apparently, she’s been suffering for several months now. I offered her my sympathies and talked a little about how fucked the working poor are when faced with this situation. It was kind of chilling my vibe though, so I finished my beer, wished her well, and said goodnight.
I got to thinking about it more later and sent her a message: Does the hospital accept credit card payments? She didn’t know but said she would find out. I told her if they do, I’d help her out so she could get the surgery she needs. Yeah, look at me. That’s the most expensive pussy I’ve ever paid for and I’m not even getting any (nor do I want to, just to be clear). Today she messaged that credit cards are accepted and I told her to go ahead and get the procedure scheduled. The credit card thing was not about me not being able to get the cash, it was all about making sure I was getting what I’m paying for. Based on the photos of the paperwork she sent, it all seems legit, including the cost. It’s still a lot of money, but at least I’m blowing it on a worthy purpose this time.
Anyway, that’s how things are going in my sick little world.
Despite feeling poorly, yesterday’s hike was quite pleasant. I especially enjoyed the beach portion in an area I’d never previously explored. More of a fishing village kind of vibe to it, and with the bad weather all the boats were in port. I never realized there were so many in such a small area. Lots of pictures to share from the day, I’ll get to those in a minute.
After my 24 hours illness imposed exile, it was good to be sitting next to a cute Filipina with a cold beer in my hand again. Spent a couple of hours in the bars, then headed out to The Pub for my weekly fix of Korean-style wings. I always get them to go, but instead of going home last night, I took them with me for a drop-in at the Kitchenette.
This morning I was feeling slightly better, mostly because the hacking cough has diminished somewhat. I had to push myself out the door for my morning hike, but I did get out there. I didn’t have much staying power though and I wound up shortcutting my normal trail. I’m almost ashamed to admit that I aborted the hike after 5K and took a trike home. Well, I did do almost 17K yesterday (including the hike, dog walk, and bar hop) so perhaps an on/off every other day type approach will be my new normal. We’ll see how it goes when I start feeling better again.
Here are the photos from the hike yesterday I promised (as usual, the photography is a group effort):
Looks like the schools may be opening soon.
Moving forward, one step at a time.
Well, shit. Here I was all proud of myself for my Hash performance on Monday, then I wake up sick again on Tuesday. This time the symptoms are more cold-like–a cough emanating from the upper chest, a runny nose, light-headedness, and an almost complete lack of energy. I managed to get the grocery shopping done in the morning and nothing much else.
You know it’s pretty bad when I voluntarily forego my daily dose of beer. Can’t even remember the last time that’s happened. I was actually wavering, entertaining thoughts of “maybe just a couple” when mother nature intervened by unleashing a hellacious combination of wind and rain. Yep, staying home definitely proved to be the right decision. Pretty boring though. I fired up my seldom used television and watched some old episodes of One Step Beyond and some other videos on YouTube. Surfed the net, played some online solitaire, then hit the sack early. My helper gave me some cough medicine and a decongestant. That helped me sleep a little more peaceably. I’ve also been using my nebulizer a lot more than usual to keep the lungs functioning satisfactorily under the stress of whatever is ailing me.
I woke up this morning still alive, so I took that as a good sign. While not exactly refreshed, I was feeling a bit more energetic.
I wasn’t really feeling up to doing the hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. Scott sent me the map of the path they would be taking. Around 8K and flat. Just prior to their scheduled departure time I thought to myself, “fuck it, I’m going to walk this shit off.” So I headed out and joined them. I did some coughing and sneezing along the way, but otherwise handled the exercise pretty well. Dog tired at the end though.
Now I’m sitting here dealing with the symptoms (the runny nose is the most irritating) and making plans for my immediate future. And yes, I will be following that age-old advice and drinking plenty of liquids. I do feel better than yesterday, so there’s that. And it’s Wingsday, I have a tradition to maintain.
Gawd, I’m sounding like an old man bitching about his health issues, aren’t I? Then again, I am an old man. It’s what we do!
The outer edge of the typhoon passing to the north did wind up hitting us pretty hard last night, but it was too late to impact the Hash. In fact, the overcast skies and breezy conditions during the day kept it much cooler than normal and made hiking the trail all the more pleasant. It was a Leech My Nuggets trail, so it did feature a couple of climbs but they weren’t outrageous and I managed just fine. In fact, our “sane” group, notorious for shortcutting, wound up doing the entire trail. That’s very rare for me. I was also surprised at how strong I felt while hiking–no shortness of breath or other fatigue issues. All I can attribute that to was my day off on Sunday. Perhaps I do need to give it a rest a little more often.
Here are some photos from the hike, taken from several sources:
And that’s the way it went down.
Heading out to the Hash in a couple of hours, weather permitting. The Hash ethos includes “rain or shine” and that’s all well and good. But there is a typhoon passing to the north and today’s Hare is Leech My Nuggets–that combo could make for tough going. Anyway, as of now, it’s looking like a go.
Nothing much else happening around here. Feeling a bit better today, but haven’t had cause to push myself. Yet. We’ll see how I feel when I’m climbing one of those mountains.
Shit. The wind just kicked up and now it’s raining. Hope it’s not here to stay.
Well, you gotta laugh I suppose.
Oh, and I grilled some steaks. I think I’m finally getting that searing technique down pat, this one came out just right. Granted, it wasn’t as thick as those big-ass ribeyes I tried last time, but I was happy with the result.
That’s all for now. Check back in tomorrow for the Hash report. Or lack thereof.
There is something not quite right going on in this tired old body. I usually do a longish Sunday stroll, and I was preparing to head at 0800 this morning when I suddenly felt just about every ounce of energy disappear. I laid down on the couch thinking I’d take a short nap to recharge. Woke up two hours later still feeling empty. It’s not a motivation problem I don’t think because I do enjoy my walks. Just feeling light-headed and bleh today for some reason. I really hope this is not a symptom of old age because it really sucks to feel tired. Hopefully, this too shall pass.
I’m guessing some of my regular readers may be speculating that this feeling like shit thing might be related to the time I spend in the bars. I honestly don’t think so. Take last night as an example. I got to Marick’s a little before 5:00 and left before 7:00. I did stop at It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers, but as is my custom I was heading home around 8:00 and in bed at 9:00. I also drink San Miguel Zero (3% alcohol) so I was not really even all that drunk. It is what it is, I guess. For the record, if I fall prey to the worst-case scenario I want to be cremated and have the ashes scattered up on the My Bitch trail. And if there is any kind of wake, have “Time” by the Alan Parsons Project played. Of course, it won’t matter to me if that doesn’t happen–I’ll be dead.
So, about last night. I spent some quality time with girls, played some of my favorite music (they plug into my Spotify), and chatted with the other customer, Eric, who was celebrating his birthday.
When I showed Joy the photos I had taken she didn’t seem impressed with the quality of my camera work. This morning she sent me a better one:
And oh yeah, since I’d bought a round of lady drinks, the girls gave me a nice leg massage.
As I mentioned, I dropped into It Doesn’t Matter on the way home to spend some time with another waitress friend.
Now, to be clear, neither of the bars I visited last night have “take out” available and the girls I drink with are certainly not prostitutes. I don’t normally visit that “type” bar at this stage of my life. What’s been interesting to see, and perhaps it is related to the pandemic somehow, is that Facebook has become a new tool for freelancers. When I get a friend request I check to see if we have any mutual Facebook friends. If there are several, I will usually add them. I had a little bizarre interaction with one of these “friends” over the weekend. It started with a message from someone I’ve never met in person and haven’t really chatted with. She wanted me to accept her sister’s friend request. It was Friday and I was busy with darts, but why not?
Hi sweetie how are
Doing good. How about you?
Boring
Okay. We are already friends.
Yeah
Where are you?
Barretto
Are you busy?
Going home when I finish eating
Can I visit you when you got home?
Not tonight
How about tomorrow?
I don’t know you. What do you have in mind?
Getting horny hehehe
Ah. I see.
How much?
It’s up to you baby 
I’ll let you know tomorrow then. You are in Subic?
Yes
Okay.
See you
Take care
Goodmorning
What you doing sweetie?
doctor appointment this morning…
Can I meet this afternoon sweetie
Are you home already?
Where are you sweetie
Hi sweetie are you home
I’m horny heheh
Missed Video Chat6:07
Are you home
Can I come
Missed Video Chat6:08 PMEnter
I’m here in barreto
Ok
Still waiting for your replay
Goodmorning
So, that gives you a flavor of how these things go. You see that I’ve been ignoring her for two days now. I think she is getting the hint. Honestly, as much of a horn dog that I am, I really don’t like hooking up with complete strangers. I’d certainly never bring someone I had never met previously to my house. She looks cute enough in her Facebook profile picture, but I just have no interest in her whatsoever. Go figure.
I did, however, initiate a new member into my FWB club. That gives me two active clients, which is about right for me. A couple of times a month keeps me satisfied. I knew the latest one from when she worked in Cheap Charlies and she’s been desperate for some income to feed her kids and pay the bills. I helped her out a few times no strings attached, but the begging pleas only became more frequent. I started to just block her, sending her a message that it was not my responsibility to take care of her family. But I did make the “massage” job offer (which I had done previously) and this time she accepted. Her performance has been adequate thus far, so we shall see how it goes.
And that’s the grim details of how I roll these days. And yeah, I know it is all fake and meaningless, but it helps fill the hours, and I kinda sorta enjoy the company and attention.
As the good book says, “judge not lest you be judged.” I’m not sure what Buddha would say.
That’s the way I dance with the ladies these days.
Maybe were just shooting stars
Needing something to hold on to
But each thing we touch seems to vanish
Like candles and friends
They burn at both endsDance, they said
Life is only for the moment
The light is brief
Don’t waste it
The taste is sweet so taste it
So I said I understand
I’m dancing as fast as I can
Well, I was all prepared to do a post about the murder of an expat yesterday with the help of criminal defense attorneys from The Law Offices ff Michael H. Pham in Houston .The early details were pretty gruesome–including child molestation allegations and an ice pick in the head. I even had one of my witty headlines almost worked out; something along the lines of “take your pick and shove it!” Alas, the effort was all for naught because it turns out the rumored homicide did not, in fact, occur. That’s a good thing of course. I didn’t know the guy personally and what I have heard about him wasn’t good–turning people into immigration for visa violations–but a violent death is certainly not warranted for the crime of being an asshole. Allegedly.
Anyway, back to reality. Sometimes it feels like my life is a bit of a joke, and that’s no laughing matter. The reality of it all though is pretty much what my faithful readers see here on a daily basis–I’m just filling in the hours, however comfortably and well. Damn, it’s almost like I’m living one of my favorite Hemingway stories: A Clean Well-Lighted Place. What’s even scarier is that a quick search of the archives reveals that I was writing about this story fifteen years ago after a crazy night in Itaewon. Back then I had a lot more staying power, that’s for sure. I never even make it to midnight now. Anyway, if you want to read the short story, here it is. Or if you prefer, you can watch the story acted out in this YouTube video (less than 15 minutes long, it is a short story after all.)
As long as I am in uploading mode, I got a kick out of this 15 seconds of goodness:
So, I played darts in the singles tournament last night. Threw decently, but was as inconsistent as ever. Faced off against Billy in the winner’s bracket finals and lost a hard-fought match. I usually don’t care, but I hated losing that one because I left the door wide open for her to come back and beat me. When it came time to play my loser’s bracket match, I just conceded the game, took third place money, and left. I don’t recall ever doing that before. I just wasn’t feeling like playing anymore, so I didn’t.
I left Alley Cats and hoofed it over to Sit-n-Bull for some nourishment. The pulled pork sandwich (with coleslaw) was one of the daily specials, so that’s what I had. Delicious as usual. After eating, I caught a trike and headed home. In bed before 9:00 p.m. I guess those Itaewon marathon nights are nothing but a memory now. That’s okay, this is my new life. Such as it is.
Well, I managed to craft a post out of almost nothing. Then again, I’ve got a lot of experience doing that lately. And now, finally, the moment you’ve undoubtedly been waiting for:
This is it.
(see what I did there?)
Black Rock Mountain climbing to be precise. For some reason, I got it in my head to lead the Friday hiking group on an 8k journey over Black Rock then around and about back to Barretto. The excitement, such as it was, came with the trek down over a sometimes slippery rock surface. Made it without a scratch so that’s my accomplishment for the day.
I also took these photos:
Feel free to Relive the hike here:
That’s my day so far. Later on, I’ll chuck some darts and see where they land. Hopefully on target some of the time.
See you tomorrow!
Another typical day in the life here. It’s been said that no news is good news, but some may argue that no news makes for a boring blog post. Well, more boring than usual I guess I should say. You’ve been warned!
I started my evening by spending some quality time at It Doesn’t Matter with my favorite waitress. Now, I know how things work in the bars but I do think I’m getting a GFE vibe these days. Oh, for those not in the know, GFE is what we call the “girlfriend experience” that can sometimes be purchased with lady drink commissions. So, when you spend enough time and money with a gal it’s possible she’ll get cuddly, laugh at your jokes, and have you believing you are something special. Hey, in the long run it is cheaper and less dangerous than having a real girlfriend. At least that’s been my experience.
For the past couple of months I’ve made a Wednesday habit of buying Korean-style wings at The Pub to take home for dinner. I arrived at The Pub a little after 7:00 p.m. and was surprised to see a large group at one of the dining tables. Generally at this hour, I’ll have the place to myself or be sharing it with one or two other guys. The large table appeared to be four couples, looking to be in their late 40s or early 50s. And they were all WHITE. You very rarely see foreigner women here, and when you do they are usually youngish backpacker types. I couldn’t quite make out the accent to their English from across the room, but they weren’t Yanks. Adding to the mystery, we are still on lockdown here so they couldn’t have been tourists. I don’t know, perhaps they were diplomats or something like that.
Anyway, the relevance of this gathering to me was that they had just ordered their meals before I arrived. I feared that would put me at the back of the queue in the kitchen, so I asked my regular waitress about how long I’d have to wait. She came back and said it would be 45 minutes. Well, the wings are good, but I wasn’t willing to sit around waiting for them that long. I said my goodnight and left, feeling sorry that my consecutive streak of “wingsdays” was coming to an end.
Now what? I briefly considered hoofing it over to Sit-n-Bull, but that was further than I felt like walking. So instead I crossed the highway and popped into Mango’s. Took my usual seat on the waterfront, was greeted by my waiter and Facebook friend Norman, and placed an order for some grilled porkchops. Of course, I got a beer to help kill the time while they were being prepared. A few minutes later Norman returned and said, “Sir John, I’m sorry, but Edmund (the chef) advises that we have sold out of pork chops today.” Well, damn, just my luck. There was nothing else on the menu I wanted to eat last night, so I finished by beer and left.
Back on the highway again and it is now 7:45. I mused to myself that had I been more patient at The Pub, my wings would be almost ready now. So, I shrugged and headed back to the Pub, placed my belated wings order, and had a beer. The group of diners was still there enjoying their meal so at least my wings would be the top priority in the kitchen. As I was waiting, Luke, one of the Hashers from Angeles City, came in and ordered some tacos. We had a nice chat while our food was being prepared. In the “it’s a small world” category, Luke has purchased two lots in Alta Vista almost directly across the street from my current residence. My wings arrived, I paid my tab, said my goodbyes, caught a trike, and was home eating wimgs and kimchi by 8:30.
Yeah, a pretty wild night, wasn’t it? And of course, it being Wednesday, I had done the group hike during the morning hours. A 5K jaunt, leaving from Alta Vista and featuring two moderate climbs. Still they got me breathing heavy, but a mostly pleasant hike. Here are some photos from the trek. (hmm, a juant, a hike, and a trek. No wonder I was so tired!)
And that was that. I declare it to have been a good day!
Another “lazy” Tuesday in the books. Did my weekly grocery shopping then spent the afternoon puttering about in the kitchen.
I also play darts on Tuesday evening, so I headed out to Alley Cats. We played doubles, and I drew one of the bargirls as my partner. She’s an experienced player, and I’ve seen her throw decent darts in the past, but she was way off her game last night. Sometimes it felt like I was playing alone or she had never touched a dart before. Or both. But that’s the luck of the draw and I’ve had my share of outstanding partners recently, so thems the breaks.
The situation awkward pairing did make for some interesting situations. For example, in our first cricket game, we were way behind–they had everything closed except bulls and we still had three numbers open and were behind on points. It seemed pretty hopeless, but the only way we could possibly win was to put a shitload of darts in the bullseye. And that’s what I proceeded to do, getting two or three every throw. For some reason, our opponents kept throwing for points instead of trying to close out the bull. That kept us in the game and we eventually closed out our open numbers and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Crazy night. I was throwing decent enough to carry my partner and defeat some stronger teams. Still, I was very surprised that we made it to the finals. We couldn’t prevail there, but second place was pretty satisfying given the circumstances.
The night ended on a sour note unrelated to darts, but I’ll save that story for another time. I’m still processing what happened and the way I’m going to move forward. That’s life. At least, that’s my life.
We got it done. Not to perfection or even to my complete satisfaction. I guess you might say that goes with the territory when laying a Hash trail. Sometimes it gets a little Hare-y. Okay, I’ll stop.
It happens that things get lost between what you intend to do as a Hare and what actually happens. We scouted the front half of the trail last Wednesday and had a pretty good idea of where we were going to go. Our efforts on Friday to walk from the endpoint to a logical rendezvous with the front part of the trail were not as successful as we hoped. That meant we were winging it more than I like on Monday morning. We made a wrong turn once and had marked that trail with powder and paper before realizing our error. Did our best to erase the mistake, but I heard from a couple of Hashers they had followed the faux trail. I hate when that happens, but at least they were able to recover and retreat back to the true trail.
The descent we wound up doing was not at all to my liking. Very steep and very slick, and worse yet, it ended up in a creek bed. I hate walking through creek beds. Especially in rainy season. The rocks were covered in algae and slippery as hell. I told my fellow Hares I wasn’t happy with putting the Hashers through what we had done, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was expecting some negative feedback at the Hash circle but I was surprised again. The gung-ho die-hards like Guenter really liked the trail. Leech My Nuggets said he thought it was the best trail of the year. I told him I didn’t think so, how about that going down to the creekbed? He laughed and said, “I was surprised to find that on one of YOUR trails, but I rather it enjoyed it.” I confessed that I had been overruled by my fellow Hares about that route, so the praise belonged to them.
Anyway, all’s well that ends well. No one got hurt and no one was irrevocably lost. Those are my goals as a Hare and they were achieved. Here are some photos to enjoy:
Alright, those are the photos taken while we were laying trail. Here are a few taken by the Hashers later while hiking the trail:
And a few shots from our On-Home venue at Hunter’s Jo Inn in Calapadayan.
Hope you enjoyed the trail.