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.

As good as any and better than some. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it (lots of them!).

I started the morning with day 3 of scouting Monday’s Hash trail. This time we did the Black Rock Ridge, which will constitute the second climb (after Easter Mountain) for the hard trail. The “easy” trail will go through the valley that runs parallel to the ridge and rejoin the hard trail on the other side. We walked it backward yesterday, so all the ups will be downs on Monday and vice versa. We’ll go back out in the morning to lay down the powder and chalk markings.

That filled the morning hours. When beer o’clock rolled around, I decided to make Cheap Charlies my first stop of the night.

Alma and Nerissa were my drinking companions, and a bit later, Jim also showed up. And then a parade broke out on the highway below us. It looked like this:

I started feeling hungry. Thumbstar has a Friday night special where everything is two for the price of one, including food. So, I did the math and decided two shwarmas and two beers to wash them down sounds about right.

However, my math calculation proved to be erroneous because I failed to consider the “Ashley factor.”

So, my cheap meal wound up costing me around 1000 pesos. Oh, well.

I decided to make Whiskey Girl my nightcap bar. When I arrived and took my seat, Jenn came by to take my order. She declined when I offered her a drink because she was with another customer. Okay, well, at least I saved some money on lady drinks!

I went home early and alone as usual, but that’s just the way I roll these days. Most likely, more of the same is in store for tonight. What a life, eh?

I have a doctor’s appointment at 11 a.m. and a meet-up with Mary in the afternoon, so I’m going to do my daily post about yesterday this morning. And I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.

The Wednesday Walkers, all three of us, made the trek out to the far side of Naugsol in Scott’s car. We don’t get out this way very often due to a lack of transportation options, but with our small turnouts of late, a single vehicle is all that’s needed.

I really enjoyed this excursion, one of the best of our recent efforts.

There was still more to do, of course, including my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull, so I put it to work:

The beer flowed freely, as did the lady drinks, some friendly interactions with the other patrons, and a nice relaxing evening in my Hideaway.

I was sober enough to do a nightcap across town at Whiskey Girl, where I enjoyed two for the price of one beer and snuggle time with Jenn.

I’d call it a good day. Better than this guy had:

Yesterday was Vietnam Vets Day, in case you missed it. This tribute is pretty spot-on regarding how my feelings about the war evolved over time. Whatever your opinion about the rationale for engaging in that conflict, the young people who fought it deserve nothing but respect. I encourage you to give it a read.

The doctor’s visit today is about my blocked sinuses and to consult about the surgery that is likely required to resolve the issue. Hopefully, I’ll have good news to report tomorrow in that regard.

Just another Tuesday in paradise. I made my grocery shopping excursion to Royal and wasn’t disappointed…higher prices and more items out of stock—the new normal.

My mountain friend came and gave me one of her special massages, leaving me panting for breath at the end. That gave me a chance to try out my new portable bedside nebulizer.

When beer o’clock (I can say that again!) rolled around, I decided to start with some food and headed over to John’s place.

After my meal, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers. I was waiting for 6:00 p.m. to arrive so I could use my 500 peso voucher at Hot Zone. I must say, the lineup of dancers last night was the best I’ve seen in quite some time. Owner Jay joined me at my table and brought a couple of dancers down from the stage to join us. There was another group in the bar with several other dancers at their table. That only left two girls on stage, and I felt kind of sorry for them, so I asked Jay if I should have them join us too. He thought that was a fine idea and instructed me on the Hot Zone way to invite a girl down:

“Stand beside the stage. Rub your hands together. The girl will come over to you and pull her top down. Gently rub her breasts, and then she will come to your table.”

That’s just what I did with both of them, and it worked like a charm! They each ordered double lady drinks (shame on me for not specifying otherwise), but since I had seen and touched their boobs, I guess they earned the extra commission.

In keeping with my newly instituted “drink responsibly” policy, I had reached my limit and it was time to bill out and go home. My beers did not exceed the 500 pesos credit on my voucher, but the two lady drinks totaled 600 pesos. So, once again, my coupon wound up costing me money. Oh, well. I’m rarely at Hot Zone, and I did enjoy me some eye candy. I’d say it was worth it.

Another night of getting home before 8:00 p.m. and being asleep before 9. I really need to stretch that out some, I think. Keeping everything else in balance, of course. I don’t want to fall into more bad habits.

Feeding night at Hideaway tonight to look forward to. A very nice Wednesday Walkers hike on the far side of Naugsol this morning I’ll post about tomorrow.

As always, thanks for coming by. It’s bound to get better.

While I’m at it and still can, here’s the lowdown from last night’s feeding at Hideaway.

As usual, Sunday dinner came from Jewel Cafe. Chef salad, egg fried rice, ten chicken wings, and seven orders of pork sisig.

I behaved myself, confining myself to San Mig Zero beer. I had several but didn’t cross the line. As I was walking down the highway contemplating my nightcap venue, once again, a trike driver called me by name and wanted to take me home. Upon reflection, I decided that was my best option, so I took it.

So, hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with a post about today’s Hash.

Until we meet again, I trust I won’t be a Long Time Gone.

I made it through my miserable hangover day. It reminded me of my COVID symptoms: no energy, light-headed, and without appetite. I took a day off from walking and just lazed around the house, napping off and on. By the time evening rolled around, I was feeling marginally better, so I ventured out to see what Saturday night held in store for me.

I kicked things off at It Doesn’t Matter, and waitresses Agnes and Juliet immediately noticed that something was off with me, And not just because I ordered a San Mig Zero instead of gins and soda. They commented on my wounds, and I had to tell the story of my sordid encounter with gravity the night before. I took my time downing two cold bottles (3% alcohol and 60 calories each), then decided I needed to have my first meal of the day.

IDM no longer serves food, but the Hops and Brews beer garden seemed like a good option, so off I went. I hadn’t been here since my first date with Lydell, but I couldn’t hold the restaurant responsible for that failed attempt at a relationship. Hops and Brews is a beer connoisseur’s dream with draft and bottled brews from around the world. I just wanted to stick with my new old favorite, Zero, but alas, that’s one brand they don’t carry. I had to settle for a San Miguel Light (5% alcohol and 100 calories) to wash down my tasty sweet and sour pork dinner. One beer here and out.

Next stop, BarCelona. Two Zeros consumed as I enjoyed the view of my former hangout, Cheap Charlies. My eyes are not good enough to make out faces from that distance, but the bar didn’t seem very busy. I wonder if the gals there are missing me my lady drinks largesse? Sorry seems to be the hardest word, right, Nerissa?

I’m happy to report that my drinking low-alcohol beer slowly strategy seemed to be working quite well. I wanted to finish my night at the scene of my crime, Wet Spot, to see if I had engaged in any behaviors that warranted an apology. Both my waitress, Irene, and owner, Dave, assured me that while I appeared to be having a good time, I had not been rude or otherwise obnoxious. Dave even bought me a beer!

So, after eight beers on the night, I went home with a light buzz but no discernable physical impairment. That’s always the goal. My Fitbit tells me I fell asleep at 8:40 p.m. and awoke at 3:47 a.m. That’s a tad early on both ends, but it suits me better than waking up on the floor, that’s for sure.

I am happy to report that I’m feeling back to normal today.

I did a 7K walk this morning that went well despite my being a little winded towards the end. Coincidentally, as I concluded my hike, I saw a sign for a new funeral parlor:

And I got a message from one of my former employees, Sherry Villanueva, and she sent me this photo of those long ago days when I was her boss in Korea.

My favorite story about Sherry came immediately after I hired her. I interviewed by telephone, so I had never seen her before. She was the most qualified, so she’s the one I picked. I never gave a crap about EEO and their “underrepresentation” stats. I picked the best person for the job and didn’t care what color they were. Still, I assumed with a name like “Villanueva,” she was Hispanic, and EEO would tick off that box. I was surprised to get an email from EEO congratulating me on meeting my Pacific Islander goal. Yep, Sherry is a Filipina. What a world.

Anyway, Sherry only worked for me for a couple of years before starting a new job in the USA. We remained Facebook friends but very rarely had any contact. And now, she is returning to Korea to my old job as the Director, Human Resources Management for USFK/8th Army. Congratulations, and good luck to her! It’s great to see someone you mentored become such a success.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

UPDATE: I’m not sure if everyone is having the same issues I and at least one of my readers are having accessing my blog. I’ve tried to contact HostGator to see what the issue is but have not had any success with that either. The issue seems to come and go, so check back later if, at first, you don’t succeed.

Gin and her pal Soda were accessories to the crime. Mary was a witness, and I guess that’s a good thing; otherwise, I’d have no recollection of what happened. Actually, I don’t recall much about my attendance at the SOB, but I must have had a good time. When the show was over, Mary and I took a trike back to my house. She said that I tripped and fell on my face when I exited the trike. The trike driver tried to help Mary get me back on my feet; then, a passing motorcyclist stopped to assist. I woke up on the floor of my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what the fuck happened. Mary filled in the gaps, and from what she describes, I don’t know that I’ve ever been drunker. I know the hangover I’m suffering from today is one of the worst I’ve experienced.

So, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to give up drinking. Gin. That’s right; beer belly be damned, I’m going back to Zero from now on. The trouble with hard alcohol drinks for me is I can’t monitor my level of inebriation–one minute, I’m fine; the next, I’m over the line. With beer, especially a low-alcohol beer like Zero, I can drink until I’m ready to stop without getting falling down drunk. I mean, I like a nice relaxing buzz, but I hate losing control of my mind and body. I’ve had two falls now on Gin, and it is just not worth pushing my luck.

In other news, we had a pleasant Friday group hike. Only four of us and we did the My Bitch trail from end to end.

The day started better than it ended, that’s for sure!

Thursday is the day I make my weekly visit to the floating bar on Baloy. I really do enjoy the ambiance and gentle swaying on the water as I sip my gin and soda.

Before the floating bar was relaunched, I got my sand and foam fix satiated at McCoy’s beach bar. I felt a little guilty about not being back since the floater option was available, so I resolved to pay a visit once I was back ashore.

I would have preferred a seat with a better water view, but the late afternoon setting sun was shining brightly on that section of the bar. I was feeling a little hungry, but the only thing I saw on the menu that resonated was the chicken burger. Naturally, I got the “sorry sir, out of stock” response from the waitress. Ah, well. They don’t serve individual gin and soda drinks (you have to buy the bottle and drink shots Filipino style), so I was drinking San Miguel Light (no Zero beer either). Two of those, and I was off to find a more suitable venue for my dining and drinking needs.

I was a little buzzed at this point but still wanted to walk off those beer calories, so I did the jaunt from Baloy to mid-town Barretto.

Further up the road, Mugshots was open, so I popped in to let them know they had missed out on the brownies I had prepared especially for them. As I suspected, they advised that their hours had changed, and now they don’t open until 6:00 p.m. I was the first and only customer, so I ordered my gin and soda and lady drinks for the three bar staff. The Mugshots menu has only a few items, but I don’t mind a small menu where everything is freshly prepared and done well. I went with the chicken wings.

I enjoyed my visit to Mugshots, a comfortable and friendly place. I’ll be back. I might even bring some brownies with me.

I headed back out on the road searching for a nightcap venue and decided on Voodoo in keeping with my infrequently visited bars theme. There were a couple of people I knew at the back slapper’s table, and we exchanged greetings. My favorite dancer, an old-timer (literally in her 40s), Tia, was happy to see me after my long absence and joined me at my table for a lady drink. After a bit, I noticed the four remaining dancers on stage looked bored, and as I sometimes do, I wanted to give them a small tip in appreciation for their hard work. I asked my waitress to change two 100 peso notes into four 50s, and she returned saying they wouldn’t give me change. Hmm. You know, it’s no big deal, but it struck me as bad customer service and unfair to their employees. If I’m managing the bar, I send someone outside for change if need be, but that’s just me. It kind of killed my vibe, but I was probably under the influence of the alcohol I had already consumed, so I paid up and left. I grabbed a trike outside and was home and in bed before 9 p.m. Yep, that’s how I roll these days.

What else? Well, Facebook reminded me that one year ago, I took this photo of the house being constructed behind me:

Oh, and remember that Philly cheesesteak sandwich photo from yesterday?

Well, today, John Kim of John’s Sushi and Steak fame posted on Facebook that his Philly cheesesteak sandwich is on special this week.

And I don’t do much politics these days, having learned that minds aren’t likely to be changed regardless, so what’s the point? I still see others who do, and the ensuing arguments are pretty sad to see. So, this seems to serve as an apt reminder to those who choose to engage in a war of words:

At least, that’s how I see it.

I’m planning on doing the SOB tonight, and it looks like Mary will be joining me for the event. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Not saying it was a bad day necessarily; just a little bit off. I supposedly had a doctor’s appointment with an ENT specialist in Olongapo at 8:30 a.m., but when I arrived, I was told the doctor wouldn’t be in until 11:00. Apparently, there was a miscommunication with my helper, who confused office hours with the doctor’s hours. The way it works with most physicians is you show up and are seen on a “first come, first served” basis. Bullshit. I’m not sitting around for a couple of hours to see a doctor–give me an appointment, and I’ll be there. I know, I know, take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. Hmm, nope, still not gonna do it.

Things didn’t get much better come evening time. The last time I visited Mugshots, the bartender said she was craving some of my brownies. I honestly didn’t recall ever bringing brownies there, but I promised her would bring some on a future visit. With nothing specific in mind for my night out, I set about keeping my word and baked up a batch. Now, I seem to recall that Mugshots opened late afternoon, so I was planning to share the brownies and try their food, which I’d seen receive positive reviews. I arrived around 5:00, and they were closed. Now what? I started to walk another block to Blue Butterfly but changed my mind. It’s not on my regular circuit, and I just wasn’t feeling it. Cheap Charlies seemed like a good fit, but I wanted to avoid the drama with Nerissa I experienced on my previous visit. Well, I decided that it was within my power to do so, and off I went. I honestly figured Nerissa wouldn’t bother to bother with me anyway.

As soon as I sat down, Nerissa came and sat next to me. I gave her a polite greeting and proceeded to ignore her. Once again, she didn’t express any regrets about ending our budding friendship so abruptly, and I really had nothing else to say to her (nor any poems to recite). After a bit, she took the hint and moved away to another stool. I had a couple of drinks alone (my other regulars weren’t working), then paid my tab and left. I still don’t understand the situation with her, and I’m a little pissed at myself for even caring. But whatever, I’m moving on.

I walk back to Mugshots, and they still aren’t open. Oh well, I guess it was just not meant to be brownie night there. I turn around and head up the highway, and figure The Green Room will be a place I can drink and order some grub from Sit-n-Bull. I’m far from a regular there, but it is still a friendly place. I order my drink and see that someone is having a birthday party, and the girls are all partaking in the cake. My poor brownies just can’t catch a break! The Sitn-n-Bull waitress arrives, and I decide to dine on a pork steak. I also get the waitresses in my section a pizza to share (cheaper than lady drinks!). I finish my food and drink(s), then me and my brownies depart.

Where to next? I had just been to Whiskey Girl the night before, but I figured Jenn would be a suitable recipient of my brownies gift. She was nowhere to be seen when I arrived, but another waitress fetched her for me. She said she had been eating, and I told her to go back and finish her meal. She refused and plopped down next to me. I told you she was sweet!

I got a message from my pal Ron that he was going to Snackbar at 8:00. I responded that I’d had just about enough to drink, but I’d join him there for one on my way home. When I arrived, he wasn’t there. But my former love was, though. Cuddled up with her new husband. At least she took it outside, so it wasn’t in my face. I had a drink to drown my sorrows, bought one for my three favorites, then grabbed a trike for home.

What a day. Well, they all can’t be good ones, and I suppose it could have been worse. Hopefully, it will be a more pleasant experience feeding the girls at Hideaway tonight.

Oh, Facebook memories shared these photos I took of the National Highway in Barretto in March 2020:

Looking on the bright side of the scamdemic, at least it was easy to cross the road without the need to dodge trikes, jeepneys, and crazy drivers. Of course, there was no need to cross the street because every fucking thing had been shut down for the lockdown.

Those were the days, eh?

It was Sunday, and it went like this:

Mary joined me in the bedroom for dessert and a nap, then she left to make more deliveries, and I headed out for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

I’ve made Jewel Cafe the headquarters for Sunday dinner. It’s reasonably priced, the girls seem to enjoy it, and best of all, they deliver. I just drop by on the way to Hideaway, place my order, and hit the street. Last night it was four orders of pork sisig, two orders of chicken quesadilla, two orders of chicken wings, and a pork chop for Joy. Since I’d been otherwise occupied all afternoon, I got a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts for the girl’s dessert.

I sprang for a few lady drinks, got comped on a couple of mine, and had fifty dollar bar tab when I left (dinner was another thirty). That’s livin’ large, even by my standards, but like they say, you can’t take it with you when you go.

I was feeling no pain when I left Hideaway, but I didn’t let that stop me from dodging traffic on the highway as I made my way across town. I was thinking about Alaska but liked the idea of sitting outside at Sloppy Joe’s better.

Alaska is right next door, so I made that my final destination for the night.

Here’s some other stuff I came across:

I recently made a photographic appearance on an expat forum called PI@Night. “Exploring the PI with a focus on it’s colorful nightlife, from the expat and visitor perspective.”

Then a friend back in Seoul sent me a link to an old Flickr page of photos from the Seoul International Dart League. It was quite a stroll down memory lane with faces of people I hadn’t seen for many years. Here are a couple of my favorites:

And finally, there is this:

Alright, it’s Hash Monday, and I need to grab a nap and then get ready to hike. I will be back with more excitement tomorrow. Assuming I have one.

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

Stephen king

So, about last night. I hadn’t visited It Doesn’t Matter in quite some time, so I decided I’d start out there. I’m not sure why, but the vibe just felt different somehow, and not in a good way. Maybe it was just me. I decided to change things up with a visit to Cheap Charlies.

My longtime favorite, Alma, was back after taking time off to be with her visiting American boyfriend. She gave me a warm greeting and took my drink order. I was a little surprised when Nerissa pulled up a chair beside me. Well, she may not like me, but I guess earning a drink commission is still a priority. At first, I gave her a bit of a cold shoulder treatment, but after a couple of drinks, I lightened up some. I showed her a message I’d sent her after our last meeting that she hadn’t responded to, and she told me that’s not an active account. I reminded her I was blocked on the other one, and she just shrugged. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to recite some poetry from memory. This was the first one:

I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night. Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!

–Amy Lowell

The other girls seemed impressed. Nerissa just sat there with a blank expression. I don’t know why I can remember all the lines in a poem, but I am lucky to remember my name sometimes. Since I was on a roll, this poem came to mind:

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long forgotten snow.
–Sara Teasdale

Reciting poems in a bar with loud music in the background is a pretty foolish thing to do, and I was not quite drunk enough to continue the effort. But when Nerissa came back from the CR and sat down on the other side of me, I leaned over towards her so I could speak privately. Then I began reciting the Stephen King quote from above. Nerissa stopped me about halfway through and said, “why do you quote poems instead of just saying what’s on your mind?” I guess I realized then that I was wasting my breath on her, so I ceased the effort to determine if there was any friendship left to salvage.

I had ordered some food from the restaurant downstairs, and when it arrived, I shared it with my bargirl crew.

I departed Cheap Charlies, crossed the highway, and pulled up a chair in Wet Spot. I spent some time with owner Dave and met a couple of new folks. I must have overdosed on gin and sodas because I’d forgotten all about seeing Mary’s school friend, a dancer at Wet Spot until I uploaded the photos from my phone camera this morning.

Whatever. Even though I’m embracing the mantle of “player,” I wouldn’t mess around with the friend of someone I’m seeing. I don’t recall doing anything to piss her off, and I assume I bought her a lady drink, but who knows? The look on her face doesn’t convey a “nice to see you” vibe.

I made it home safe and sound, and we’ll see what happens next. Mary has a little sideline business selling snack foods, and I ordered some cookies to hand out on my hikes. She is supposed to be delivering them to me this afternoon. Then, later on, I’ll do the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

That’s how my day was. See for yourself.

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that Mary wanted to join me when she finished an after-school event. She sent me these photos:

I had planned to start my night out at Cheap Charlies. And on a whim, I’d even baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls there. But as I walked into town, I decided I didn’t want to have any drama around Nerissa, so I set a course for Hideaway instead. I know they like my brownies there. Everyone was surprised to see me come in on a Friday night, especially Joy. So, the brownies were dispensed, some lady drinks were purchased, and I, of course, downed some gin and sodas. And then Mary messaged that she was on her way, so I said farewell to the Hideaway crew and headed out.

I was ready for some food, and since John’s place was in close proximity, I told Mary to meet me there. We headed upstairs together, ordered some drinks (we both do the gin and soda combo now), and perused the menu. Mary professed not to be that hungry, so I ordered the beef bulgogi for us to share and an order of Korean-style chicken wings. The bulgogi comes with rice, and to my surprise, Mary said she doesn’t like rice. She’s the first Asian I’ve met who feels that way. So, I substituted the rice with cole slaw.

After our meal, I took Mary to Bar Barretto to hear some live music. Alas, the band was not due to start for another hour, so we went next door to Mugshots instead. It’s a cozy little bar I haven’t been to for quite a while. We were the only customers, and Mary and the bartender chatted away in Tagalog. Mary told me later that the bartender mentioned she was only the second woman she had seen me with (the other being my long-ago ex, Marissa). I guess that makes me a part-time player. But it also goes to show that gossip amongst the gals is a really big thing in these parts.

I’d had my fill of alcohol by now, so we took a trike back to my place. I made us a smoothie, and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Mary in the wee hours of the morning. She woke up too, and was feeling frisky. A nice way to start the day!

I baked some banana-walnut muffins to go with our morning coffee; then, it was time to walk the dogs.

After the walk, I made us a breakfast burrito (well, it was my regular burrito, I just served it for breakfast). That went down well, too. Mary took the TV remote and started playing some tunes on the YouTube channel. I commented on the fact that the music she was enjoying was older than she was. She agreed, saying that music from her generation was too crude for her taste, and she preferred hearing the songs her grandparents had played.

When it was time to go, I told Mary she could join me at the Savers Appliance store and pick out a refrigerator for her house. She was, of course, pleasantly surprised. One thing that I appreciate about Mary is that she doesn’t ask for or seem to expect cash from me. I don’t give her money after our dates because I don’t like the feeling of our time together being on a quid pro quo basis. I was happy to gift her a fridge I knew she needed, knowing it would make her life a little easier.

While we were shopping at Savers, Mary’s grandmother, who lives nearby, came to the store to see Mary and meet me.

If I recall the story correctly, the grandmother’s father is an African-American Navy vet who was stationed here in the 1960s. It’s a funny world.

The shopping experience at Savers was not very pleasant because everything took forever to process, and none of it made any sense to me. Mary reminded me to remain calm and remember that I was in the Philippines. Of course, yes, I needed to accept the Filipino way. In addition to the refrigerator, I bought Mary a microwave oven. That should make her kitchen time more convenient too.

Oh, Mary told me that her grandmother had asked her three times now if I was her boyfriend. Mary told her, “not yet,” which was something of a relief. I told Mary I’m not into labels like “BF/GF and all the baggage and expectations that come with those terms. I said I have enjoyed her company and spending time with her, and that was enough for me. She put a heart emoji on that comment, so hopefully, we are on the same page. Hey, I’m a “player,” after all; I can’t go around calling someone my girlfriend!

Here’s a quick post about My Date With Mary.

As I’ve mentioned, one of the things I find most attractive about Mary is she is a smart girl. Of course, smart girls tend to think for themselves and can sometimes be very willful. So, once Mary has her mind made up, there’s no changing it. She had it in her mind that she was going to spend the night with me. What could I do?

I suggested we start with some drinks, then have dinner, and I’d bring her home after. Those terms were acceptable to her, so we agreed to meet on the rooftop at BarCelona at 5:00 p.m. I chose BarCelona because it has some nice views and also because it is a bar I don’t frequent regularly…i.e., I wouldn’t have to deal with the prying eyes of one of my regular bargirls and any jealousy that may ensue.

Mary arrived about fifteen minutes late, which is what is known as “Filipina time.” In her defense, she was coming from Kalaklan, and catching a Jeepney on the highway at that time of day can be a pain as many are filled with passengers coming home from work in Olongapo City. I was on my second drink when she entered the bar.

I was a little surprised when Mary told me this was only the second time she had been inside a bar–the first being when I took her to Alaska Club for the SOB a couple of weeks ago. She ordered water and a coke, which is her choice, and I’m quite capable of drinking enough for the two of us.

We had some chit-chat and ordered a second round of drinks. I asked Mary where she would like to eat dinner, and she said, “I want the chicken fingers at Sit-n-Bull. Alrighty, then. We’ll save those ribeyes at John’s place for another time. Mary has a schoolmate who works at Wet Spot, and Sit-n-Bull delivers to Wet Spot, so I suggested we go there and visit her friend. Mary was up for that idea, and Wet Spot was right downstairs from us, so off we went. That makes three bars for Mary now if you are keeping score.

We grabbed an open table and settled in, only to discover that Mary’s friend wasn’t working, which is very unusual for a Saturday night. Oh, well. My regular waitress came and greeted us and took our drink orders. Mary had another soft drink, I had more gin and soda, and I also bought mywaitress a drink. The Sit-n-Bull waitress came by with a menu, and we ordered some grub. I did a roast beef dip, Mary got her chicken fingers (plus an order to go), and I bought a pizza for the waitresses to share.

And then things get a little fuzzy. I kept drinking; the manager, Bret, sent me over a drink on the house. A bit later, owner Dave came in and bought me a drink too. Mevelyn, the cute little dancer I barfined a while back for “cuddling only,” was onstage, and Mary thought she looked like a girl from her school, so I called her down to join us. It wasn’t the same girl Mary knew, but I got her a drink anyway. It turns out she is moving back home to the province next week. Good luck to you, sweetie.

Mary and my waitress asked if they could do tequila shots, and who was I to say no? Even if they do cost 200 pesos a pop. I think they both had two, but by now, I was over my gin capacity and in no condition to count. But it wasn’t long afterward that Mary and I were in a trike heading home.

I made us a smoothie (banana, strawberry, mango, and pineapple), and we hit the hay shortly after. Well, rolled in it. I know I woke up with a sweet young thing next to me, and it was very nice for a change to have a warm body sharing my bed.

Mary joined me on the dog walk then I made us some breakfast–cheese quesadilla, tuna salad (as requested by my guest), tortilla chips, and salsa. By all appearances (disappearances?), she enjoyed her morning meal.

Mary is crazy about the salsa I use, so I gave her a jar to bring home.

And then it was time to end our time together. I offered to walk her home to Kalaklan (about 4K up the highway), but she declined, saying she preferred the Jeepney. I walked with her out of the neighborhood, spotted a trike, and sent her home in style.