I’ve received some interesting feedback on my most recent FWB post. A commenter noted it seemed a lot like prostitution with a different name. Another reader emailed me some links about the actual human trafficking law in the Philippines and provided some commentary and analysis on how the law is implemented. It is certainly a law I do not want or intend to violate. Prison and/or deportation are not consistent with my life’s goals.
I think I’ve muddied the waters with my own sloppy writing. To clarify, FWB is not and was not intended to be about sex for money. I came up with the idea of friends helping friends in response to getting besieged with requests for financial assistance from people in need. I would help when and where I could, but I couldn’t help everyone all the time. So it seemed natural to choose to help the ones who were also willing to help me. My needs are pretty simple and basic. I enjoy some companionship now and then and I’m always up for a nice massage. I have girls join me on my hikes sometimes and some have been quite handy with massages. To me, that’s a win-win. Fulfilling each other’s needs created a comfortable relationship-like bond with some of my FWBs, a girlfriend experience without all the baggage. While in some cases things have become physical, there was never any coercion or other enticement–it was just what happens naturally between two consenting adults who care about one another. I hope that sets the record straight. If I wanted to pay for sex I’d make it easy on myself and hire a prostitute from one of the bars where they work. That’s just not my thing.
Alright then, everything else is pretty much the same as every other day around here. Did the bar visit at Outback (see the previous post) to start my evening, then did the pork chop dinner at Mango’s.
And I had this nice sunset for dessert. Yum!
A few more beers at Cheap Charlies then called it a night.
I’m feeling a little better I guess. One indicator is I started craving my vape last night. I resisted the urge, but the fact that I wanted to fill my lungs with water vapor again must be a good sign. On the other hand, I bailed on the group hike this morning. Just wasn’t feeling it. I was the only old slow fuck who showed up today and I fell behind on the flat ground where I can usually keep up. Once the climb started I knew I just didn’t have it in me today. Oh well.
It’s going to be a Hashy weekend. The Corona Hashers are in town from Angeles City for an outstation event. They are doing a bar crawl tomorrow and a run on Sunday. I plan to attend the Sunday event at least. Monday is the Subic Hash 28th Anniversary run.
Yeah, I’ll be getting a new Hash shirt in honor of the occasion.
The Hash Beer Meister is out of town, so I’ve volunteered my carport as a storage place for our beer supply.
And we’ll be drinking some beer it appears!
In completely unrelated news, a friend posted this meme about how McDonald’s has changed in old age:
She’s a youngster in her 20s. I shared with her how McDonald’s looked when I was a kid:
Everything changes…
Alright then, back to the real world for me. I’ll be back with an update on my so-called life tomorrow.
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.
The birthday gal.Some of her friends.Party food.
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 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 got take-out for the girls, but this photo from their website gives you an idea of the size.
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.
This is how I roll at Marick’s.And that’s who I roll with.
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.
I can’t say the ivermectin made a difference, but I maybe need to reduce my water intake and replace it with beer just to be safe.
Does real goodness even exist, or is it always compromised by the dividends it pays to the do-gooder?
That’s the title of a post I came across at the Althouse blog. The question is posed in a review of a new novel by Jonathan Franzen called “Crossroads”. I haven’t read this book or anything else by Franzen, but this quote from the review set me to thinking:
To ethicists, that is a question about whether right thinking matters more than right action—that is, whether we should judge people’s goodness based on what they are doing or on why they are doing it. Most of them agree that motives matter: in a perfect world, we would all do the right thing simply because it is the right thing to do. But we don’t, and Franzen repeatedly exploits the gap between what we do and why we do it—which, in fiction, is the gap between plot and character.
Now, I like to think of myself as at least being somewhat charitable. But I acknowledge that even my smallest acts of charity, like giving “mama” a hundred pesos when I see her, are based at least in part on a foundation of selfishness: throwing some money around to help someone in need helps serve to assuage my guilt that comes from living a rich life in a poor country. I don’t know that acknowledging that fact diminishes the impact of my gift-giving; it certainly doesn’t matter to the recipients. But the larger question regarding my motives is perhaps one to ponder. Helping people out now and then certainly doesn’t magically make me a nice guy.
Take yesterday for example. I spent about $100. at the grocery store on things to be used in the Kitchenette. I have no expectation of ever being paid back, but my continued support of the business might help it become profitable to the extent that my help is no longer needed. I do get a measure of satisfaction from my involvement in creating something that didn’t previously exist. I also enjoy seeing people getting employment opportunities and a chance to better their lives. And amongst those groceries that I purchased were a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and french fries–food I can enjoy when I stop by after my nightly bar crawl. I don’t know if the “what’s in it for me?” aspect diminishes the value of the gift, but in the end, I don’t think it matters either.
Yesterday afternoon I had a visit from one of the gals I’d advanced 1000 pesos for future “massage” services. I was somewhat surprised to get her message that she was ready to come over. As background, she’s a person that was constantly begging for money to cover various emergencies, paying the bills, and feeding her children. After a while, I grew tired of the seemingly endless requests and was ready to just cut her off completely. But before I blocked her permanently I offered her the opportunity to participate in the Friends With Benefits Program–you help take care of my needs, I’ll help take care of yours. I didn’t actually expect her to accept those terms, but I guess her desperation led her to agree. Anyway, I wasn’t really in the mood for anything physical yesterday. Instead, we chatted some, cuddled a little bit, and touched each other in a non-sexual way. It was nice and I compensated her in the same amount I would have done for “full service”. Do I consider that an act of charity? No, of course not. My support does make life better for her and her kids and I feel good about that. That I get something in return doesn’t negate that fact. I’m not saying it makes me a nice guy or worthy of praise, but then again, people helping each other satisfy their needs is nothing to be ashamed of either.
Last night I played darts at Alley Cats. My partner and I took first place.
I didn’t throw my best game, but we did a good job covering for each other’s weaknesses. Good enough to win at least.
After the above photo was taken, I gave my partner my share of the winnings. Really no big deal to me, but it made her night–probably doubling her daily salary. Which says more about how low her pay is than it does my generosity. No other motive on my part but to make her happy. Seeing that smile made me feel good too, so I guess maybe it was another case of quid pro quo.
Anyway, that’s just an aspect of life here. Lots of people in need and you can’t help them all. Selfish fuckers like me have to find a way to pick and choose when and where to provide assistance. Upon reflection, I don’t think my actions are praiseworthy. But I don’t feel bad about my methods either. Maybe that’s not “real goodness”, but the results are real good for everyone involved. And that’s good enough.
Or so I keep telling myself. Actually, reminding myself is more accurate. I’ve wasted time in the past not enjoying the blessings that surrounded me, instead only focusing on my regrets. My last year in Korea is a prime example of that blind ignorance. Well, no more and never again is my attitude now. Each new day is the best day I have and I’m not going to fritter it away worrying about shit that is beyond my control anyway. I know I’ve said it before but it bears repeating–how can I not love this life I’m living? Just walking the dogs and seeing the mountains fills me with contentment. This morning I recalled telling someone about why I liked living in Columbia, SC–two hours from the mountains and two hours from the beach. He responded, “why not pick what you like best and live there instead of being two hours away?” These days, I have both right outside my door.
I treated myself to lunch at Mango’s today and enjoyed this view.
Well, to be more accurate, I treated myself and a lady friend to lunch at Mango’s today. She’s someone I’ve been acquainted with for a while and wouldn’t mind getting to know better. She’s been going through a transition from bartending to factory work on the old Navy base. She’s asked for some financial assistance to pay for medical and other requirements. A little here and a little there and now we are up to 10,000 pesos ($200.) I’ve been unresponsive to recent hints that she wants/needs more. Until last night when she sent me a message saying “Can I pawn myself to you? HaHa!” That was a new concept to me, but I answered “Yes, friends with benefits”. She did another “ha ha” in response to that. She came back with “how much you pay to pawn me?” Well, I was busy drinking at the Hash and never got around to responding.
This morning she sends this message: “Sorry for what I told you last night…hehehe. I’m crazy…mental block.” I told her not to be sorry and that I was trying to figure out how to afford her. She laughed again and said, “you know my priority now–just tell me.” I responded that I was ready if she was willing. “Of course” was her reply. So, I invited her to lunch and she agreed to meet me at noon. Exciting times, eh?
Well, not so much. She didn’t arrive until 12:45 and said she wasn’t hungry. She also advised she had a medical test to do back in Olongapo at 2:00. What the hell? Why accept a lunch date, come late and not want to eat, and then have to leave in less than an hour? This wasn’t going well. I ordered a salad and she wound up getting some lumpia, ate a couple of bites, and took the rest to go. Alright then, down to business. “Tell me about what is involved in being pawned to me?” She laughed nervously and said “that was just a joke. Did you really take me seriously?” Um, we are here, aren’t we? Okay, it was all a misunderstanding. My bad. Paid the bill, gave her 20 pesos for Jeepney fare, and said our goodbyes. Man, that’s about as close to breaking Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker) as it comes.
The icing on the cake was getting back home and having the gal who stood me up for a massage yesterday messaging me. Seems her nephew was in an accident, that was why she couldn’t come as scheduled. I wished him well. Then she came back and wanted to “borrow” 1000 pesos for medicine. I’d had enough of this bullshit by then, so I just said “let’s boom-boom instead. 3000 pesos and keep the 1000 you already owe me.” Well, that shut her up. No response at all. Guess the “emergency” wasn’t as critical as she led me to believe.
And yes, I know I’m the asshole in all of this. In my defense, I can only say that the constant begging has just exhausted my reservoir of goodwill. If you’ve got nothing to give, neither do I.
Anyway, back to my original point. I’m living my best life. I’m making the rules that suit me. If you don’t like my terms and conditions, don’t ask for my help. I have no bad feelings towards anyone regarding their choice. And I am still spending my charity budget every month with no expectations of anything in return. I’m just feeling no guilt about not giving handouts to predators.
Well, damn. I had intended this to be a prelude to my weekly Hash report. It was a good trail and I felt better than I have while hiking in quite some time. Did the whole trail too, if you can imagine that. But my ramblings above have run out the clock and now I must prepare for the dart tournament. Tomorrow will be a “pure” Hash post with plenty of pictures. Promise!
In the meanwhile, thank you for your indulgence. Who else am I going to tell about these shenanigans?
And tomorrow we might not be together I’m no prophet, no I don’t know nature’s way So I’ll try to see into your eyes right now And stay right here, ’cause these are the good old days.
Had a late night yesterday. Well, there is a 10:00 p.m. curfew, so most bars start closing down around 9:30. That’s something I rarely see these days as my normal bedtime is around 9:00. What got into me? Well, quite a few beers. But I also had places to go and people to see.
I started out at Marick’s bar and the place was packed. There were two other guys and me in there. Plus two bar girls and Marick. Did I mention I’ve seen bigger walk-in closets? Anyway, it’s got a good vibe and Marick is looking for something larger. Good luck with that!
I do enjoy Marick’s company. She said she was going to join me at Monday’s Hash but never showed. When I asked her why she stood me up she said “I got busy”. Okay, I get it.Who is the real Filipino in this picture? That was my way of showing my new favorite bargirl “Happy” how light-skinned she is. “Are you brown from the sun?” No, I’m John from the Earth! Old joke but I’m an old fuck.
I said my goodbyes at Marick’s then headed up the street to It Doesn’t Matter. Hadn’t been there for over a week. My old favorite bargirl “Roberta” came out and joined me. A vendor came by and I wound up buying two dresses for Roberta. I did let her know that I was doing this as a gesture of kindness to the poor woman lugging clothes on hangers up and down the street.
I continued making my way up the highway and stopped at Wet Spot, one of my most frequented bars prior to the pandemic. I was on a mission to find the owner so I could repay an act of kindness he had bestowed upon me last year. The best way I knew how was to buy him a drink. Mission accomplished!
Now, Daddy Dave is more than just a man about town. I think of him as the mayor of the expat community. He also heads the Barrio Barretto Business Association and represents the small business community in dealings with the mayor of Olongapo and the barangay Captain. He has successfully worked with city leadership on pandemic-related issues and unlike the surrounding cities which feature alcohol bans, earlier curfews, and other business-killing and totally ineffective policies, Olongapo is open for business. We are lucky to have Dave on our side for sure!
It had been months since we’ve sat and chatted so I was especially pleased to find him last night. We had a good talk about the issues of the day, enjoyed our drinks, and looked forward to better times.
After Wet Spot, I moved on to The Pub. It was Wingsday after all. That’s when I realized how late it was getting. The only other customers left as I was placing my order and the waitresses were cleaning up and preparing to close while my wings were cooking. I caught a trike around 9:40 and was home well ahead of the witching hour.
The eye doc and I had agreed to an early morning appointment to facilitate his travel to Manila to perform laser surgery. My driver picked me and the helper up at 6:00 and we arrived ten minutes before the agreed-upon 6:30 appointment. The security guard said the doctor hadn’t arrived yet. My driver asked, “now what?” and I said let’s go to McDonald’s! Everyone was in favor of that idea. Had the sausage and egg McMuffin and it hit the spot.
Got back to the hospital at a quarter to seven and the guard still wouldn’t let us in. I was getting pissed but managed to refrain from saying anything I might regret later. Apparently, one of the orderlies went upstairs to check, came back down, and said the doctor was, in fact, in the office. The guard relented and let us pass the threshold into the hospital. Good thing, too. I really had to pee.
Anyway, the doctor seemed to think my eyes were progressing normally and verified my supposition that it takes time for the brain to adapt to the input from a properly functioning eye. So, the blurriness at distance is supposedly nothing to be concerned about at this point. I’m to come back once a week for a month for progress checks. If after a month I’m still not seeing clearly I can opt for either glasses or laser surgery. I’ve got to say, I don’t miss wearing my glasses. I still instinctively reach for them on occasion though.
Once I got back home I set the wheels in motion to get a new passport. Mine expires in December and I got it worked out so that my tourist visa expires on the same day as the passport. I’m using a local travel agency to handle all the details, I’d rather pay them $150. than deal with all hassles of getting everything to the embassy in Manila and back. Was told I should have my new passport in three or four weeks.
Had a wonderful massage from my friend “Merideth”. She was pleasantly surprised when I asked her to come over. I really appreciate the fact that she doesn’t pester me and gives good service when called upon. I’m a lucky guy!
But enough about me. Here are those pictures from Wednesday’s hike I promised:
We took a Jeepney to Calapacuan to begin our trek back to Barretto.Some of our group. What’s her name wondered out of the photo and Scott is behind the camera. He took most of these pics in fact.I was struggling even on this modest incline.Working my way up.Through the back alleys…The haunted hospital. Construction never completed.Off the streets and onto the trail. Luckily for me, the climb was short and not steep.Hello, where have you been all my life?I asked.“Most of it not born.” Fine, be that way.Though my problems are meaningless, that don’t make them go away… I certainly have nothing to complain about.A new perspective on Easter mountain.Family time.Cookie time.Two sides of the Filipino coin.Puddle avoidance.
That’s pretty much it. Tomorrow is going to suck though.
I appreciate the headsup, but damn, all f’n day?
Oh well, I’ll get through it.
I appreciate the sentiment, but I seriously doubt Shakespeare ever said that.
We said we’d “Never Forget!” but I’m not so sure that’s true for many of my fellow Americans. But for today, at least, we’ll leave politics out of the remembrance of those who lost their lives as well as the heroes who gave their lives on that fateful day twenty years ago.
I was working at the Department of Education in Washington, DC on that beautiful September morning. I was having a meeting with my staff in the conference room. Someone mentioned a plane hitting the World Trade Center building in New York, but we assumed it was just a tragic accident. During the meeting, the phone in my office kept ringing. I ignored it at first, but the persistent callbacks convinced me to interrupt my meeting. The caller was my then-wife, Carol, who worked for the Department of Justice. She asked if I’d heard the news–a plane had hit the Pentagon. And things started going crazy throughout the city.
We were locked down. Anyone leaving the building was not allowed back inside. Meanwhile, at the Justice Department, employees had been excused. Carol came to my workplace but they wouldn’t let her in, so I went outside to join her. Now what? We were commuters on the Virginia Railway Express, but all forms of public transportation had been shut down indefinitely. We made our way to the Holiday Inn near our train station and sat in the bar watching events unfold on television. A few hours later, a friend who lived in DC picked us up and drove us home to Stafford, Virginia. My daughter Hillary, who had joined the Army Reserve, was watching the news on TV and stated matter-of-factly “this means I’m going to be activated.” She was and did two tours of duty in Afghanistan.
Everything changed that day. On a personal level, I was jolted out of my former worldview regarding national security. I discovered new sources of information on the internet and was shocked to discover much of what the Washington Post had been feeding me was bullshit. Not so much in what they reported, but in the things they left out. It set my life on a new course, one that eventually led me to Korea to work for the U.S. Army as a civilian.
Over the years I had the opportunity to highlight the actions of two heroic firefighters. I want to continue that tradition by “saying their names” here today:
Men and women like these exemplify the selflessness and sacrifice that has made America great. Hopefully, all those who lost their lives on that fateful day twenty years ago did not die in vain.
This song and the accompanying photographs are both a haunting remembrance and a fitting tribute to those who died that day. May they all rest in peace.
It was a nasty day, but that didn’t stop us. The Wednesday Walkers marched around 12 kilometers under a steady rain, driven by the passing of typhoon Jolina. We kept to the roads and highways though, so we suffered no ill-effects other than a good soaking.
The highlight for me, at least, was helping to welcome our newest member, Paula, also known as Pearl. When she arrived at the meetup location we all assumed she was with Chris, as he was the one who greeted her. Scott thought she was perhaps Chris’ wife but I told him she appeared way too young to be his wife (Chris had told me about a hiking trip he took with the wife in Europe several years ago). I thought she might be a daughter, although I don’t even know if Chris has a daughter. With a mask covering the lower portion of her face I thought she looked to be in her late teens.
As the hike commenced, I was, as usual, bringing up the rear. My oh my, Paula’s ass was one of the nicest I’ve ever seen. Yeah, I know that sounds creepy, but I’m just stating a fact that I couldn’t help noticing. It was such a distraction that I stepped up my pace and walked ahead of her so as not to be a total perv. Later in the hike, I had the chance to introduce myself and that’s when I learned her name. When I asked her age she surprised me when she answered “28”. I, in turn, surprised her when I responded that she was only two years younger than me. She laughed when I explained that I am thirty in my heart and reminded her that “age is just a number”. She smilingly nodded in what I assume was agreement.
I also learned that she was divorced, and I asked how that was possible (divorce being illegal in the Philippines). She told me had been married to a Japanese man in Japan, where she had lived for six years. Now don’t get your hopes up for me, dear readers, I’m not. She is very attractive, seems smart and interesting, although I didn’t get a warm fuzzy that she had any interest in me. I told her that our normal hikes are much more interesting than this road walk, and she expressed interest in seeing the mountains. I told her if she wanted to friend me on Facebook I’d add her to our hiking group message board. And she did. So maybe I’ll have a pretty face to spice up the photos from future hikes at least.
To the photos then:
Our long and wet route…And we are off!Yeah, that’s Paula in the black pants.Heading into Subic on the National highway.Then turning up the Govic highway for the long trek to barangay Naugsol.The road stretched out before us.A view from the rear…And a view of the rear.“Are you looking at my ass?”Our route took us on a big loop around Easter mountain.Come along now, Charles. It’s my job to be running behind.On the road to Naugsol.On the streets of Naugsol.Probably the nicest house in Naugsol.Me being charming and witty. Or trying to…Roadwork ahead.The second nicest ass on the hike…Heading back to Barretto on Sawmill road.Almost done.Exchanging Facebook info with Paula before saying our goodbyes.It’s all seemed a little fishy at the street market…Beer drinking time after the hike for some of the guys at the Kitchenette. Our hostess provided chicken wings and lumpia for a snack.And mama dropped by to say hello as well.
Anyway, stayed too long and had too many beers so early in the afternoon. Put me off schedule, hence yesterday’s abbreviated post. It was rainy most of the night, and we lost power early in the evening and again in the wee hours of the morning.
But when the sun came up today, Jolina had moved on.
Anyway, it was not a bad day despite the rain, almost 26,000 steps and nearly 20K. I’ll take it. That kind of exercise has got to be good for the heart, right?
And I come across these reminders during my internet travels to help keep me safe. I’m sure Paula would never hurt me though, right?
I’m joking of course. I hope. And I’m also counting my blessings. I don’t want to ever be this guy:
They did find someone who knew him and got him home safely. I understand he will be running for president.
So, the party was at a place called Maris’ Kitchenette. Now, whether the party was a grand opening event or for my birthday is a matter of perspective. There was a cake with candles and my name on it, and I paid for the beer. The food was given away for free too (and technically, I paid for that too) I got there about 1:00 and there were already quite a few people in attendance, and more came and went throughout the day. I knew most everyone there and received the customary birthday greetings and songs. I enjoyed myself and that’s as it should be, right?
Not just one cake……but two. Both were consumed by the end of the day.The kitchen crew were friends of the owner who volunteered to help out for the big event.I contributed the stove, freezer, and refrigerator.
I’m sorry, but I didn’t pay much attention to the food. I know there was a pancit noodle dish, chicken wings, shanghai lumpia, and a few other offerings. Not the full menu, but lots of volume. Also all gone by closing time.
Some of the early arrivers…It’s actually a pretty comfortable venue. Right on the National Highway. The kitchen is large and there is counter eating on the outside perimeter.Greetings to you, Joanna (who lives upstairs from me) and Kate, who is a real cutie. I told her one time after she had taken off her glasses, “you know, you look better without the glasses”. She didn’t miss a beat in responding, “you look better without my glasses too.”The Alley Cats crew also showed up, leaving one girl behind to man the bar.Mingling with some of the guests…More guests and some of the food on offer. Sorry I didn’t get more food shots…We had a rain squall mid-afternoon. Only lasted 15 minutes or so, but it flooded the highway out front.This is AFTER the major road construction/drainage installation project. Only in the Philippines!The birthday boy……performing the traditional COVID spreading ritual…
Once the party wound down and the kitchenette closed up, we moved next door to Mango’s where I treated the hard-working staff to a roast chicken dinner.
That being the case, it can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean. Apparently. Let’s continue yesterday’s “love story” to its illogical conclusion, shall we?
So, I was taken aback by Jessel’s words of love, unexpected as they were. How could I have so completely misread her feelings? I stopped playing darts so I wouldn’t have to deal with her rejection. She told me she quit working at Alley Cats because I stopped coming. And now all these months later we were finally back on the same page after having acknowledged our love for one another. The only question that remained was where do we go from here?
Clearly, we had a lot to talk about if we were to set a course for a future together. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew what I wanted going forward and I had absolutely no clue about the kind of relationship Jessel desired. I was still scared about making a mistake and getting hurt again, so I was hoping for some reassurance and understanding if I wanted to take things slowly. I knew I would be making changes in my lifestyle but I needed to understand Jessel’s expectations, wants, and needs.
The obvious next step was to get together and talk about these issues. That shouldn’t be difficult for two people in love. Except it turns out that it was. My only avenue of communication with Jessel was via Messenger, but she continued to be non-responsive to many of my messages. Hours and sometimes days would go by before I received a reply on the ones she did bother to answer. Jessel explained that she is not allowed to use her phone at work, and I understand that. That doesn’t explain why I rarely heard from her during her off-hours though. It took me until Wednesday, five days after I had received her profession of love, to receive her agreement for a lunch date. And it didn’t happen. When she finally got back to me, she wanted to meet at 6:30. No, that didn’t work for me. I’d already been drinking and this meeting was too important to me to do unsober. And yeah, to have a lunch date unilaterally changed to dinner was irritating too. It took until late the next day to reschedule our lunch meeting for Friday at 1:00 at Mango’s.
I was excited about the meet-up and arrived twenty minutes early. Jessel got there twenty minutes late. Yeah, a practitioner of “Filipina time”. Good to know. It was nice to see her again–it had been a week already. We ordered our roast chicken meal, and I told her the story of love I shared here yesterday. She told me she was excited the first time she saw me. Well, it never showed. I asked some questions about her life and she responded with short answers. Later on, I thought she was sending a message on her phone, and I happened to glance down–she was playing one of those building block-type games. Ouch! I guess I’m not as interesting as I thought I am. She didn’t seem to have much else to say anyway and the vibe I was getting was that she wasn’t interested in talking about the future. Well, she did say she didn’t want me to tell anyone about “us”. I’m pretty sure that nobody she knows reads this blog, so I guess I haven’t. I couldn’t get an understandable answer as to why we couldn’t tell the world of our newfound love, but my imagination quickly came up with several possibilities. Very strange indeed.
She wasn’t interested in coming home with me or doing anything else together after lunch. She wanted to nap. And here’s the kick in the balls–when we got to the door of Mango’s she said “you go first.” She didn’t want anyone to see us leaving the restaurant together!
I didn’t hear from her at all on Saturday. This being in love thing isn’t as grand as I thought it would be. And that’s really the bottom line about it I guess. Jessel is not the woman of my fantasies. I think perhaps I over-estimated her English mastery–perhaps she seems uncommunicative because she can’t speak or write my language well. I still have no idea why she doesn’t want people to know about me, she did assure me she has no other boyfriends–here, back in the province, or online. So, I don’t know.
But what I do know is there appears to be no foundation on which to build a relationship. The things I dreamed about and imagined aren’t going to happen. Jessel doesn’t seem eager to take any initiative to move things forward, either emotionally or physically. Maybe she is just shy.
Anyway, she doesn’t appear to be the woman I fell for in my imaginary relationship. Reality is an unforgiving bitch, but as at least one commenter has noted repeatedly, I ought to know better by now. Yeah, I should. All I can say in my defense is that I don’t develop those kinds of feelings very often anymore and normally wouldn’t have the courage to act on them. In this case, I was aware that my current life is pretty damn fine even without a loving relationship. And it could be a hell of a lot worse with one.
I took those tentative steps forward, and now I’m stepping back. Perhaps love is just an illusion after all. At least I didn’t get bit in the ass.
Love hurts, love scars, love wounds And marks, any heart Not tough or strong enough To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain Love is like a cloud Holds a lot of rain Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
Some fools think of happiness Blissfulness, togetherness Some fools fool themselves I guess They’re not foolin’ me
I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true Love is just a lie Made to make you blue Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
That sings the truth about the love she brings to me
Where do I start
I guess the best place to start would be the beginning.
I first met Jessel when she began work as a new waitress at Alley Cats when the bar reopened after the lockdown ended last year. I was surprised they had hired someone new when some of the former waitresses were still not working. I found that a little off-putting and assumed she had some connection to the bar owner. I also didn’t find her attractive, so I pretty much just ignored her.
Before long, like most of the other waitresses, Jessel began playing in the dart tournaments. She was pretty good for a beginner, but what really impressed me was the effort she put into improving her game. I’d see her practicing throwing before the tournament started, and then watching other games in progress to learn from more experienced players. That dedication is pretty rare, especially from the bargirls.
One night I bought her a drink and we sat and chatted. I learned some of her story–a province girl from Samar, a single mother, and working to support her child back home. That’s actually a pretty common tale amongst the bargirls. Maybe it was because she was new, but I noticed her demeanor was different than a typical bargirl. Jessel was quiet and reserved and did not aggressively pursue customers for drinks. Lots of gals sit near and snuggle or give you a back rub in order to entice you to buy them a drink (most of a bar waitress’s pay is earned through drink commissions, not salary). That just wasn’t Jessel’s style. I liked that about her too.
So, that’s pretty much how it went for a while…I’d watch her play darts, occasionally buy her a drink, and chat and joke around some. Then one night I looked at her from across the bar and I was shocked–when did she get so damned beautiful? As I say, I’d never found her particularly attractive–a little heavier than I like with a baby belly and a bigger butt than I usually go for. So what happened? It occurred to me that as I got to know her I began to see the beauty she carried inside and that changed my entire perception of how she looked on the outside. I actually started thinking she was sexy as hell, even appreciating those ass-ets. *ahem*
I snuck this pic of her in the bar one night. Sorry for the low quality, couldn’t use the flash.
And then things started getting weird. Not so much with her, but in my head. I would sometimes dream of her. And in my waking hours, I’d fantasize about her. Not the usual sex fantasies you’d expect from an old pervert like me. Instead, I’d picture us as a couple. Waking up to a kiss, sharing coffee and some laughs, taking a walk together, and then going out and playing darts. Yeah, a significant other to share my life with would be nice, I found myself thinking. Could it be I was falling in love?
But being in love is a pretty scary thought. I’ve been burned so many times that I’m afraid of the fire that comes with love’s passion. So, I tried to ignore my feelings at first, but the more I was around here, the harder it became to do so. I started dropping some hints about my feelings, but she never seemed to take me seriously.
I felt like I was a kid back in school again, passing notes to the cute girl in front of me.
We were Facebook friends and I would send her messages occasionally. She’d usually ignore them. And when she deleted comments I’d leave on her posts, I got frustrated and unfriended her. It dawned on me that whatever I was feeling for her wasn’t mutual.
That’s really not unusual I suppose. That’s why true love is so rare. Two people need to be in the same place emotionally at the same time. That just wasn’t happening with Jessel. I wouldn’t say she started giving me a cold shoulder, but I did sense her pulling back. I couldn’t and didn’t fault her–you can’t help what you feel or don’t feel. So, I had to decide what I was going to do with my unrequited love or whatever in the hell it was that I was feeling. The best (only?) option I could think of was to take a break from Alley Cats.
I stopped playing darts and visiting the bar for two months. That’s how long it took me to “get over” Jessel. When I finally came back I discovered that Jessel had quit the bar and taken a job at the Central Park Reef hotel. Good for her, I said. And best for me too, I thought to myself. And that is where things stood until a week ago Friday.
I came in that night for my usual dose of darts at the tourney. I was very surprised to see Jessel sitting at the bar. I didn’t say anything, just proceeded to my usual table and took my seat. I ignored her for the first hour I was there, being relieved that the darts gods didn’t see fit to pair us up for the tournament. As things played out, I didn’t even play against her. Maybe it was the beers or maybe it was just me being the nice guy that I am, I eventually went over to where Jessel was sitting and said hello. She gave me a big hug. And it felt so nice. A little small talk and I returned to my seat. A bit later I had a beer sent over for her.
She sent me a message on Messenger: Miss U.
I responded: You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.
To which she replied: I love you.
I told her, “you have no idea how I’ve longed to hear you say those words”
And that’s the story of how I fell in love with Jessel. There is a bit more to tell, including a rundown of our first date yesterday afternoon. I’ll post about that tomorrow.
Did the usual group hike today. We took a Jeepney ride out to Subic Town, then walked the backstreets and neighborhoods before making our way back to Waltermart and the Jeepney ride home. I’ve got some pictures of the trek, but first I want to mention an unexpected trip down memory lane when we ran into a former Hasher named Julica.
I first met Julica shortly after moving to the PI when she regularly attended the Hash. I developed a crush on her and thought we might hook up when we attended an Angeles City Hash event. Julica and her friend Arcel rode down to AC with me and my driver. We weren’t staying at the same hotels, but I thought we had agreed to meet at the Hash signup later. She was a no-show though. The next day at the Hash, she stayed close by my side, fetched my beers, and I thought she was trying to redeem herself. In fact, I was under the impression we were going to go out and hit the bars together that night. Nope. She got out of the van with another group, shrugged, and said “sorry,” then left me sitting there dumbfounded. I don’t know what the deal was, perhaps she had a better offer from someone else. Of course, at that moment I lost all interest in her as a potential girlfriend.
The last time I saw Julica was back in 2019 when she was working on the Kokomo’s floating bar. I wrote about that evening out here.
That’s Julica, perhaps realizing I might have been the better deal after all.
I last heard from her a few months ago when she used a friend’s Facebook account to contact me and beg for money because she had a sick baby. I was sorry to hear that but had no interest in involving myself in her dramas. There are consequences in making bad life choices.
Which brings us to today. We were walking down the road and a voice calls out “Hi, Scott.” Well, that’s not unusual, Scott’s been around so long he knows a lot of people, even in the backwoods of Subic town. Then the same female voice says “hello, John”. Okay, who is that little lady standing in front of the sari-sari store? Ah, Julica! Well, I was polite but not overly friendly. She lives next door to the sari-sari and we were walking that way, so I paused to say hello to my friend Joy (that’s the Facebook account Julica used to beg for money). She introduced me to her mother who was holding her daughter. I’m glad the baby recovered from whatever it was that ailed her back then.
Julica with her mom, baby, and another little girl.
These past couple of years must have been harsh ones for Julica, she was looking almost as rough as her house. And damn, that house looked bad. Julica said that with all this rain, everything inside was wet. Not surprised that the ramshackle roof isn’t keeping the rain out. It actually made me sorry for her and the tough life she is living. It is easy to forget that the difficult circumstances many folks face have been exacerbated by the idiotic COVID policies. To her credit, Julica didn’t ask me for money today, nor did I offer her any. I did give them a bag of cookies which she seemed to appreciate. I walked away feeling sad.
To the photos then:
Our hardy group waiting on the highway for a Jeepney.Here comes one now!Only about 5K to Subic town, but feels like 10 when you are riding in the unique comfort of a Jeepney.Our starting point in downtown Subic was a familiar landmark known as Jollibee.Time to walk…Uh oh, looks like that happy bee is going to be getting some competition soon from some clown named Ronald.Leaving downtown behind…Over a river.The beauty of the Philippines…Are we having fun yet?We did leave the pavement for a bit. Long enough for me to regret having not brought my trekking pole…A rare quiet street.And yes, we did get some rain for the last couple of kilometers…We ended our hike at the world-famous WalterMart.And rode this Jeepney back to Barretto.
And that’s been my Wednesday so far.
UPDATE: And just like clockwork, I got the begging message from Julica (using Joy’s account again). Looks like I’m going to need to block her.
I’m getting pretty good at this living one day at a time thing. Makes it easier to put days like yesterday behind me, too. That’s a good thing. Having said that, in the big scheme of things there was nothing tragic or painful about yesterday’s events. Well, a pain in the ass maybe. I’ll recount the day’s events now to remind myself that life is indeed good when the worst that happens is having your patience tried.
So, the day started out with confirmation that I could indeed see Dr. DeCastro at 10:00 a.m. in the Baypointe Hospital Eye Clinic. I actually got called into the office at around 10:15 which is pretty good by Filipino standards. They did all the typical tests (I hate that blowing air into your eye one), then I was invited to wait outside until the doctor was ready to see me. That was only about ten minutes, so I’m okay with it.
Did the meet and greet with Dr. DeCastro, then he gazed deeply into my eyes. He had a machine to help him with that. Then he donned a headset and looked some more. He asked if I was driving, I told him no, and so he put something into my eyes to dilate them, then gazed some more. He then confirmed the diagnosis of my optometrist, stating I had a significant cataract growing in my right eye and a lesser one starting in the left. He recommended a procedure called Phacoemulsification and Intraocular Lens Implantation.
According to all I’ve read, the procedure is safe and effective and restores vision once the cataract is removed and a lens inserted. Well, seeing (heh) as how I’m practically blind in my right eye now (most of the time I have to close it to read), the surgery is pretty much a no-brainer. Dr. DeCastro asked if I had insurance and I told him I do in the states, so I would have to pay out of pocket, then get reimbursed. He told me the surgery is around 50,000 pesos and depending on the lens I choose, another 25,000 up to 100,000. So, this is going to be a couple of thousand dollars when all is said and done.
And then the bullshit part of my day started. I asked Dr. DeCastro when we could do the surgery and he responded I needed to get cleared by an internal medicine physician before he could perform the procedure. Say what? Why? He told me it is to ensure that there were no problems with my health that would be exacerbated during his surgery. The surgery he had just described as taking about 15 minutes to perform with me under local anesthesia. It sounded like a simple case of bill padding to me, but what choice do I have?
So, I paid my 2100 peso fee for the doctor’s visit and headed down the hall to see an internist. I was told someone could see me right away, then was directed to another room for a blood pressure check and other vital stats. After that, I sat down in the waiting area and waited. And waited. I was getting frustrated and told my helper to go see about scheduling an appointment. Someone came back and said there was only one other patient ahead of me, so I sucked it up and waited some more. Finally, my turn came and I plopped down in front of the doctor (with a plastic shield between us of course). She looked at my paperwork and told me, “I’m sorry, but you need to see the cardiac doctor for this clearance.” WTF? She then added that the cardiologist was only available on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 until noon. She said he was always busy and suggested I come at 7:30 to register so I could be one of the first to get in once he arrived. I think my tongue has almost healed from the biting it took to prevent me from saying something I’d surely come to regret. I thanked her and left.
My driver and another helper had been waiting in the car for the two hours the above episode had required me to endure. I was hungry and said let’s go eat at Texas Joe’s, my favorite barbeque joint on the old Navy base. Once we arrived, sat down at our outdoor table, and got our menus, we were told no smoking or vaping was allowed, which was why we chose to eat outside. My help was surprised at how expensive everything was and it did seem the prices had gone up considerably since my last visit. They suggested we try the Filipino place next door. Fine by me.
The menu was in Tagalog but I recognized the fried chicken and ordered that. The Filipinos with me got food to their liking and the bill for the four of us was around $30, probably half of what it would have cost me at Texas Joe’s. Did I enjoy my lunch? No, not really.
The next stop was supposed to be a store called HMR, which is sort of a department store with appliances and the like. My friend who is opening the canteen wanted to pick up some pans and cooking gear. Alas, the HMR was closed for remodeling. I went to the hardware store next door and was able to purchase a new grill. So, not a total waste of time at least.
Same make and model as my old one. It lasted over three years.
My domestic helper wanted to go to the mall to “pick up her glasses”. She had teasingly shown me a sale coupon for frames and lenses at just 1888 pesos, asking that I buy her glasses. HaHa. Well, the mall was not that far out of our way, so off we went. Except it wasn’t a pick-up-the-glasses situation, it was pick frames then get an examination. Okay, I was starting to get pissed. I hadn’t had my daily nap for one thing. Plus, I had to pee. I was told there was a restroom on the third floor of the mall, so up I went. Found it, but a sign said: “closed, go to the fourth floor.” I used the escalator in the department store to the fourth floor, but the exit from the department store was closed off. Back down to the third floor, then up the mall escalator to the fourth floor, where I was able to relieve myself at last.
Back down to the eyeglass floor and my helper was in despair because she didn’t have the money to pay for her newly ordered eyeglasses. I guess she wasn’t teasing about me paying. Well, it’s coming out of her salary, that’s for sure. My mood had grown decidedly worse by now and I was anxious to get back home.
Easier said than done. It’s usually only twenty minutes or so home from Olongapo (especially the way my madman driver drives) but even he was powerless to overcome the massive traffic jam caused by a checkpoint for vehicles entering Zambales province. Manila is under lockdown again because of the COVID Delta variant. And no one from Manila is supposed to be traveling. And so Zambales is checking everyone’s ID to make sure the virus doesn’t spread. Yeah, that’s going to work. And it gets worse, now they are requiring people from Olongapo to show a negative COVID test before WE can enter. The reason for that latest insanity? Two cases of Delta in Olongapo. Now, that’s a big deal because I cross that border regularly and I ain’t ever been tested for COVID. Nor do I plan to anytime soon. I crossed on foot this morning, and while they were checking vehicles, no one said anything to me. I guess COVID only rides. Anyway, we were stuck in traffic for another thirty minutes or so before I finally got home.
I figured I’d post up the photos from Friday’s hike and share a bit of other news. Except my blog for whatever reason wouldn’t load the pics. No idea why and I was too tired and pissed to try and figure out why. They are loading today though, so I guess I was just cursed yesterday.
That’s the gist of the bad stuff. I did hear from “Jane” for the first time in over a week. She asked if I wanted to join her at a club in Castillejos for drinks and live music. Well, Castillejos is 20K away, so I’m not sure it was even a serious offer. But there was no way I was up for that regardless. We had a brief chat and she explained her lack of contact as related to her being busy at work. I was of course understanding.
I’m not going to let having a bad day keep me from drowning my sorrows though. So, I headed out to Mango’s once drinking time had arrived. As I am unwinding from my shitty day I get a message from Joy. Seems her sister was having a baby last night and lacked the funds to pay the midwife. Joy said she was begging me to help out. A bunch more begs and pleases with the praying hands emojis and I had had enough. Why do you think it is my responsibility to pay for your sister’s childbirth? I asked. Then I told her that she had violated the terms of our arrangement and I said goodbye and good luck. Today she has been begging my forgiveness. I’ve not responded to her messages.
Finally, there was this footnote to my day. On Friday night a woman told me she loved me. Words I had hoped to see (she said it via messenger) months ago. I had actually given up on her, thinking the feelings I had for her were not mutual. It was shocking to learn otherwise. I was pretty excited thinking about the possibilities when I went to bed Friday night. But I didn’t hear from her at all yesterday. The icing on a shit cake kind of day.
I haven’t given up all hope just yet, but I’m prepared to be disappointed. Again. I’ll tell more of the story about what happened on Friday night in another post. Probably tomorrow.
Still trying to wrap my mind around yesterday’s “date” with, let’s just call her “Jane”, for now. I have known Jane from being a customer to her food supply business for a year or so now I guess. But that was all done online, and on the days she delivered, I was usually out hiking. So, I’d only seen her a couple of times. Pretty as a Filipina though, you might say. Chatted a couple of times, Facebook friends, and that was really all there was up until now. Well, she had tried to set me up with one of her friends previously, but I declined. Not really comfortable with that kind of arrangement. Jane doesn’t live in Barretto, but she will occasionally come here for some drinks. She’s invited me to join her on occasion, but I never did. Then this past Friday, she asked if I wanted to get together at It Doesn’t Matter, and I agreed. We had a couple of drinks, some light conversation, then she headed on home.
I figured that was that, but Jane messaged me about getting together again for lunch on Tuesday. I said, sure, and we agreed to meet at Blue Rock on Baloy Beach. She got there early because she had some work stuff to do online and her internet at home was down. She was still working when I arrived, so I had a drink and waited. And waited. About thirty minutes later she put the laptop away and we ordered some food (shrimp for her, chicken breast for me). And then we set about getting to know one another better.
The first thing I wanted to get some clarity on was her marital status. From what I’d seen on Facebook I was under the impression Jane had a husband. No, she assured me, she has never been married. That was actually a relief. Yeah, she is in some kind of weird relationship with a foreigner, the father of her two children, but being with her at least wouldn’t be a criminal act (adultery is illegal in the Philippines). I told her my convoluted tale of failed marriages and relationships, and she seemed more understanding than judgmental. So, in that sense, we were off to a good start. In fact, it might be that we have more in common in that regard than most women I meet.
Jane surprised me by revealing when she had first seen me. October 31, 2019, at the Halloween party at Queen Victoria bar.
That was the night I had gotten dressed up for a headshot.
Anyway, Jane said she had been there in a sexy black dress and she noticed me because I kept staring at her. I had a date and she didn’t, so eventually she left. When she saw me the first time making a food delivery she remembered me from that night. I have no recollection of those events, but that’s not surprising. It doesn’t sound out of character for me though.
It was a very nice lunch date and by the time we said our goodbyes I realized that in many ways Jane ticks all the boxes. She’s smart, probably the smartest gal I’ve met since moving here. She’s pretty (but aren’t they all?). Enjoys sharing a drink or two. And she is comfortable and confident in her sexuality. What’s not to like? I won’t go so far as to say something silly like we are “soul mates” at this point, but, it definitely feels like there is a connection on a deeper level than I usually experience.
So, we’ll see where this goes. No expectations for anything more than whatever it is that we already have, but at least she is not needy or in it for the money. She drives an almost new car and has a job in real estate in addition to her food business. I honestly don’t know what it is that she sees in me. It should be interesting to find out.
In other news, Facebook reminds me that it was eleven years ago today that I announced my decision to postpone my retirement. Originally, I would have hung it up in October 2010 and moved to the Philippines. Instead, I decided to pursue a relationship with Jee Yeun. That road wound up taking me to a pretty dark place, but all these years later, here I am where I originally planned to be.
I’m not sure I have a clue about what I’m doing, but I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next.
I call Tuesday my lazy day, mainly because I take a day off from walking. I do my grocery shopping instead and any other things I need to get done around the house. Lately, I’ve been meeting up with Joy every other week and yesterday was her day.
Things have been going fairly well with her I suppose. She calls me her best friend and does those little things like messaging me periodically throughout the day to check-in and see how I’m doing. Actually, that gets a little irritating at times, but I understand that she’s sincerely trying to be sweet. There have been a couple of times where I sensed something was going on with her, but I didn’t let myself get sucked into whatever that drama was all about. Last week she asked for an “advance” on her allowance to buy milk and diapers for her daughter. It was only 500 pesos and she met me in Barretto to get it, so I don’t really have a problem with that unless it becomes a regular “emergency.”
Anyway, I was scheduled to meet Joy at noon and she arrived early. I appreciate that she doesn’t operate on “Filipina time.” As is our custom, I took her to lunch. This week we ate at The Pub. I had the French dip sandwich, Joy went with ramyeon. Food was good, but we are just not able to hold a meaningful conversation. Her English is weak and she doesn’t understand a lot of what I say. Oh well, no one is perfect.
After lunch, Joy came to my place. Usually, we get right down to the “boom-boom” business, but this time she had promised to give me a much-needed pedicure. I must say that I was impressed with the professional job she did on my overgrown toenails. As she worked on my feet I felt myself growing increasingly drowsy. When she was finished with the pedicure all I wanted to do was take a nap, so I told her I was too tired for sex this time. She seemed to take the news in stride and I handed her the standard 3500 pesos. To her credit, she tried to repay the 500 she had borrowed last week, but I told her to keep it as a tip for the pedicure.
Joy has sent me several messages now telling me how much she missed having sex with me and that she hopes we can get together and boom-boom before her menstruation starts. And she sent me this:
I asked her if she were hungry or horny. “Both!”
So there you have it. I’ve got a gal practically begging me for sex and I’m just too damn lazy to do anything about it. It’s like the world has been turned upside down! Well, Joy will just have to wait until her turn comes up again at the end of the month I suppose.
Tomorrow Judy is scheduled to come over and give me a “massage.” She needs to pay her electric bill.
Well, technically, we haven’t had a first dance–horizontally or vertically. Yet. Perhaps we never will. That’s the somewhat ambiguous outcome of my meeting yesterday with .
I met MJ last year during one of our group hikes. She lives up on the mountain at the very end of Rizal Extension. In fact, the My Bitch trail passes by her place. Her three kids reside with her there as well. I’ve mentioned MJ in passing a couple of times here at LTG, but I really don’t know her well at all. We’ve become Facebook friends and will occasionally like each other’s posts, but otherwise, I’ve only had an occasional brief chat when she’s home as we go hiking by. So, all told maybe three or four times since we’ve met.
That’s MJ as seen on one of our hikes.Two of MJ’s half-American kids. I bring them cookies, of course.I love the view from MJ’s place. Her “house” not so much.
So, as I said, I don’t know a lot about her. Hiking buddies Scott and Dave filled me in on some of her history. Back in the day, she worked in the Barretto bar scene. She eventually wound up in a relationship with an American bar manager named Denny, who fathered at least two of her children. He later left her for another woman and moved to Angeles City. Denny eventually moved back to the USA but apparently still sent some financial support for his kids. A few months ago I saw that MJ had updated her status on Facebook to “in a relationship.” That’s pretty much the extent of what I knew about her prior to our meeting yesterday afternoon.
You may be wondering how this meeting with a relative stranger came about. Well, I was surprised to get a message out of the blue from MJ on Thursday. After some small talk, she asked if I knew of any bars that are hiring. I named a couple of places that might be looking for help. She mentioned that she’s 35 years old now, which admittedly is pretty ancient for the bar biz. I asked why she was looking for work and she told me that Denny had recently died and she was no longer receiving support. She talked about the stress she was under worrying about how she was going to feed and take care of her kids. I offered my sympathies and for some reason asked her if she’d like to meet up. She immediately agreed and we set a date for Friday at 2:00. I asked her where she wanted to get together and she said T-Rose. I told her that’s fine, but the bar is now named It Doesn’t Matter.
After the chat with MJ, I had a WTF are you doing conversation with myself. I mean, it was clear that MJ needed help from someone, but I wondered about both of our motivations and expectations. There was only one way to find that out, so the meeting was on. Going in, I knew I was prepared to offer MJ some short-term relief. Beyond that, I wasn’t so sure. And what was she looking for? My mind was all over the map on that one, especially my dirty mind. One example: Why did she choose It Doesn’t Matter (T-Rose) to meet? Could it be because there is a short-time hotel right across the street? Hmm. So many possibilities!
I was pleased when MJ arrived as scheduled. I really don’t like “Filipina time”, or as they call it back home, being fashionably late. She parked her motorbike and joined me at the outside bar, I offered her a drink, and she said “coffee”. And then we got down to business. MJ thanked me again for meeting with her. She talked about her isolated life on the mountain. It’s beautiful up there and she loves planting in her garden, but she has no friends to talk with about her stress and worry up on the mountaintop. I assured her I was happy to be an understanding ear. She explained more about her situation. Apparently, she owns a pretty nice piece of property (I assume Denny bought it for her) more than just the lot her house sits on. She said she might try and sell a portion of that land to generate some cash. She said she is also trying to sell her appliances, including a recently purchased refrigerator. I was sympathetic, but did tell her those were short term fixes and in the long run she’d need to develop a consistent cash income. I told her about the situation in the bars and even if she finds a job, until tourists return she won’t be making much money. I also mentioned that working late into the night and then making the trip back up the mountain wouldn’t be easy. You can reach her place on a scooter, but I wouldn’t want to in the dark. MJ also said her mother was available to watch her kids if she was working.
I asked MJ if she had a Filipino boyfriend (lots of the women here do, even the ones with foreigner boyfriends) and she indignantly said “no!”, indicating that she had never been with a Filipino and didn’t like them. Okay, then. I mentioned I had seen her “in a relationship” status on Facebook and asked who that was. She told me it was an 80 year old Australian she had never met in person and that he too had recently died. I asked her if she was on any of the dating sites and she said she wasn’t. I suggested a couple of them to her and told of some gals I know are getting money sent to them from guys they met online. Maybe she could try that. I asked if she had any other skills besides bar work, using massage as an example. MJ said that she had been trained as a masseuse in the past. I told her that might be a better fit than the bars are currently. I said I might even be interested in being a customer.
Of course, that triggered my dirty mind again. I glanced across the street at the hotel and the devil on my left shoulder said “why not, she’s desperate.” The angel on my right shoulder told me “c’mon, you’re better than that!” So, I handed MJ the 2500 pesos I had come prepared to give her, no strings attached. She got teary-eyed as she thanked me. I told her this was just a way to help her get started, but she needed to find some longer-term solutions to her situation. She thanked me again for the money and for listening to her and I told her I was glad to help. There’s also a grocery store across the street, and after saying our goodbyes, she headed over there.
She came back carrying this.
MJ sent a message after she got back home thanking me again and sent this photo of her bounty:
Looks like the kids won’t be going hungry.
So, that’s how the meeting went. I suppose it sounds anti-climatic after the teaser in yesterday’s post. In my defense, I didn’t know for sure there wouldn’t be a climax involved at the time.
I guess my takeaways from the meeting are that MJ is a sincere woman facing a tough road ahead. I’m certainly in no position to be her savior. I’m glad I got the opportunity to know her a little better. I’m not, however, physically or emotionally attracted to her. So, I won’t be the replacement boyfriend. I may consider offering her a spot in my “friends with benefits” program though. My masseuse vacancy remains unfilled. We’ll see.
And here we are facing another Saturday night. I’m actually getting together with some friends for drinks and dinner on the old Navy base. Something a little different for a change!
Perhaps I’ll even get my COVID shots while I’m there…
Here’s wishing all you dad’s out there a day as good as you are. I hope that’s not bad!
My father’s father, 1935, Memphis, Tennessee.My father, 1960, Garden Grove, California.My father’s son, 1980, Prescott, Arizona.This father’s son, 1985, Poteau, OklahomaFathers and sons, 2003, Bahamas
And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
I treated myself to a father’s day lunch at Sit-n-Bull:
Shaved ham on a bun w/bbq sauce, coleslaw, and baked beans. As good as it looks!
After I finished eating, I sat with the owner, Ron, and had a nice long chat. Real interesting guy and probably the best conversation I’ve had in years. I really enjoyed that.
Got a surprise from my “friend with benefits” as well. Joy asked if I’d meet her at the 7/11 in Barretto so she could give me something. I agreed and she arrived by Jeepney, handed me her father’s day gift, thanked me for being her best friend, got back on a Jeepney going in the opposite direction, and went home.
She really is a sweet and thoughtful woman. I don’t think she is pretending.
I spent some time at the beach yesterday; perched as usual on my stool at Mango’s enjoying the view.
Quite a large crowd on the sand and in the water. I was the only non-Filipino around. I’m going to have to get used to this new normal I suppose.I watched the sky do its magic as the sun went down.And this is one of my favorite photographs ever. I was trying to take it with my phone camera in horizontal mode, but for some reason, it wouldn’t take. So, I turned my phone around and snapped it vertically. Meanwhile, a couple had walked into my frame and I thought might have messed things up. Instead, them walking hand-in-hand with the colorful backdrop really enhances the image.
What else? Well, I took one of those “political compass” tests to see where it said I stood. This one was a little different than the ones I’ve done in the past, the questions were much less cut and dried, apparently intended to help measure the “authoritarian/libertarian” spectrum along with the more tradition “left/right” positioning.
That seems pretty accurate. Give it a try if you are so inclined.
I fool around some on the Quora website. What can I say? I guess I have too much time on my hands. Mostly I’m just a reader, scrolling past the vast majority of questions/answers for which I have no interest. That includes most of the political posts because I learned long ago that arguing with strangers over politics is pointless. Still, occasionally I will answer a question directed my way. Especially when I’m bored. So, a while back the question posed was, “Am I lucky living in the Philippines?”. This was my answer:
There is no place else I’d rather be at this time in my life. No, it is far from perfect, but what place is perfect? I’m an American, but there is no way I’d want to be living there with all that craziness going on. Do I get frustrated sometimes with things that happen here? Of course, I do. But then I take a walk in the mountains or on the beach, and I remember what’s important in life.
This just happened today—I watched a documentary on Bangladesh and realized that even the poor people in the Philippines live a much better life than many people do elsewhere in the world.
Yes, I feel lucky to be here.
That’s about as innocuous it gets. Just my personal opinion based on my own experience here. So, I was shocked when the Quora team advised me today that they’d shared my response with two million members. It’s been viewed 142,000 times and received 647 upvotes. Wow, I wish LTG was that popular! It’s also generated a few dozen comments, almost all of them positive. That’s also pretty amazing for the internet. But yesterday this comment came along from someone who calls himself “Hung Lo”:
Yea, they’re so happy there that’s why millions of them are dying to come here to the U.S In fact Philippines makeup the largest if not the largest Asian group living there, but yet we have the poster here and others claiming that the people of the Philippines (or atleast insinuating) are happy and content with life in their native country which can’t be further from the truth.
Stop projecting and assuming that just because life has dealt you a better hand, living in a developed country one with stability and opportunities that there aren’t others such as the natives of the Philippines aren’t yearning for the same.
Let me ask you this. What makes the Philippines so great that a more developed country doesn’t have? If I had to guess I’d bet all my marbles that it has something to do with the very young/youthful and all the pleasures it brings for the old, the forgotten and the perverted. *Sicko
I found this response both ignorant and irksome. I decided to just let it go as unworthy of a response. But then I read it again this morning and didn’t want Mr. Hung Lo to get the impression that my silence was an acknowledgement that he was right in his assessments. So, I wrote this:
Millions you say? In the USA Filipino immigrants represent the fourth-largest origin group after the foreign born from Mexico, India, and China. Of course, like all immigrants (and the USA was founded on immigrants) people here look for opportunities to better themselves and live a more comfortable life. That doesn’t mean they are unhappy. In fact, I’ve not seen any of the violence and hatred here that is occurring in the USA. Nope, not one city burned or looted. Go figure. The happiness of the Filipino people is not about money, it is about the love of family. You have to see it to believe it.
You shouldn’t bet all your marbles on anything, because it appears to me you have already lost them. Your racist and sexist comment assuming that all young Filipino women are whores makes you the “sicko”. Crawl back into your hole now, snake.
Probably shouldn’t have bothered, I know. But I’m glad I did anyway. Here’s another comment that disagreed with me, but I actually respected his viewpoint:
As a Filipino citizen (born and raised here), I wish I could say the same. It’s only ever fun to be here as an outsider/foreigner, from my perspective, since that’s already somewhat of a privilege. The economy is a headache, the extremely conservative mindset of a significant portion of the population is equally frustrating, and I won’t even dare touch the topic of politics and justice.
Being happy in spite of all that’s happening isn’t much of a good thing in my perspective too, going back to my point regarding conservative mindsets and such. Resilience in hardships is praised here a lot, as well as by foreigners I think, but I truly can’t cope with that. Resilience and staying happy isn’t always good, especially in such a fragile and hostile political environment (again, not diving deeper into that but I hope the point gets across). It’s quite defeatist in my eyes and I don’t think I can stomach living the rest of my life seeing this resiliency mindset “thrive” so much.
Again, it’s just a matter of perspective but I really can’t help but post my opinion.
Now that is how you agree to disagree without being disagreeable. He makes a fair point that if people remain accepting of the status quo and resilient in the face of the hardships that result from incompetent and corrupt political leaders, nothing will ever change for the better.
Anyway, putting Quora down for now and moving on, let me tell you about my breakfast. Pizza! Other than leftovers, I can’t recall ever having a pizza so early in the day (or seeing one on the breakfast menu). This one was topped with egg and sausage, so I figured, why not?
It was actually pretty tasty. Don’t think I’ll make it a habit, but a pizza breakfast was a nice change of pace.
It’s another Hash Monday and I’ll be heading out soon to climb a mountain. The “sane” group I Hash with has determined there are better ways to do so than the Hare (Guenter) has planned, so just like the Burger King, we are gonna have it our way. Stay tuned for a full report tomorrow.
It’s bee a while since I’ve shared the lyrics to one of our Hash songs here, so let me leave you with this:
(sung to the tune of “If you’re happy and you know it”)
If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over If your girlfriend tastes like shit, It’s her asshole not her clit If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over
And now you know why I infrequently share Hash songs here. Sorry!
I guess it’s time for me to find out what the hell is going on inside this old body of mine. I can’t cure what ails me until I know what’s causing my symptoms, so that means seeking the help of a medical professional. Here’s what I’ve been dealing with for the past several days:
Sinus congestion–I’m pretty sure this is related to my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), but it has been getting more severe. Most nights I wake up so clogged I need to come downstairs and use my nebulizer so my lungs can function more effectively. It used to be I only had this problem while sleeping, but lately, I’m congested during the daytime too.
Low energy–the lethargy and lack of stamina continue. Even the slightest climb leaves me huffing and puffing. Some days it takes all my willpower to even go out and attempt a hike, other days I say fuck it and stay home. That’s not like me, and I don’t like feeling that way.
Heart rate–one of the things I monitor on a daily basis is resting heart rate. It’s recently gone up from the low 60s to 75 beats per minute (bpm), the highest it’s been since I’ve been checking it. From what I’ve read, I don’t need to be concerned unless it goes to over 100 bpm, but the fact that it has risen so much so quickly makes me wonder why.
Itchy hands and feet–this is a very recently occurring problem, and it is especially bad at night. It’s not bites or skin issues (no rash or other marks), it is something internal. I hate this symptom the most because it makes it difficult to sleep at night. According to the internet, this kind of itchiness is sometimes related to kidney or liver disease. Well, I can’t imagine that any of my habits would affect my kidneys or liver, but you never know until you check.
Gonna see if I can schedule a full physical examination and consultation with a physician to discuss these issues and find a resolution I can live with. Stay tuned.
Despite my medical issues, I still managed to find a little Joy in my life. We had a pleasant lunch at Mango’s yesterday. I’ve got to give her credit, she is sticking to the script almost perfectly. Sure, she will occasionally hint around about something more, but when I say “that’s not what I’m looking for” she backs off immediately. She has also been very good about not asking for cash or other gifts. Joy does have a birthday coming up and I will reward her with a shopping excursion if she continues to play by the rules of the “friends with benefits program” we’ve established.
After lunch, Joy accompanied me back home. I was content to just cuddle for a bit and maybe take a nap. Joy wasn’t having that, and before long she made it, um, too hard for me to say no. That’s another thing in her favor–enthusiasm! And if she is faking those orgasms she deserves an academy award. Anyway, I sent her home with $70, some treats for her kids, and a smile on her face. We’ll meet again in two weeks and celebrate her 32nd birthday. So far, at least, we are both getting what we want and need.
For my evening entertainment, I visited It Doesn’t Matter. As is my custom I sat outside, but the place was hopping inside and out. I’m glad they are doing well in these difficult times. I might have been on my fourth beer or so when I see a young woman walking her dog. And lo and behold, it was Marick, the gal I bought the kimbap from last week. I asked if she would like to join me for a beer and she handed me her dog and came in to join me. We had a nice chat and I asked her why she didn’t come to the Hash anymore. She said she couldn’t afford the 350 peso entry fee. I mentioned that I sponsored several gals each week and she would be welcome to join in. She finished her beer and headed back to work. This morning Marick sent me a message asking if I would indeed sponsor her for the Hash? I told her “of course!”, and she said she’d see me there. It will be fun to see where this goes.
Will I live long enough to fall in love again? And if I do, will I die of a broken heart? I reckon there’s only one way to find out.
This afternoon I hear Dive In beckoning to me. Perhaps I’ll get the chance to share a drink or two with sweet Jessa. It’s also Wednesday, so that means some Korean wings from The Pub are in my future. Speaking of which, John Kim has introduced a new sandwich:
The Monte Cristo I’ve been craving all these years! I stopped in for one last night on the way home only to discover it is only available for breakfast or lunch. Oh well, I’ll go in the morning I suppose.
I’ll be back tomorrow with pictures from today’s Wednesday Walkers hike and any other adventures that might befall me tonight. See you then!
Yesterday’s hike with the Corona Hashers from Angeles turned out to be a beach walk. Not real surprising, I suppose. I had it in mind that we would be hiking from the Treasure Island meet-up and finishing at the Da’ Kudos On-Home venue. That was true for the long (10K) trail, but the 5K trail I took required a truck ride out to barangay Kalaklan, then basically just following the beach all the way back to Baloy. I’d done that hike numerous times, but not recently. Yesterday was a good reminder of why I don’t take the beach route more often. I’ll let the pictures tell the story.
I really, really dislike riding in the Hashmobile. It’s as uncomfortable as it looks and my mind can’t help but think of all the potential disasters associated with this unsafe mode of travel.But we made it safely to the drop-off point and began our march to the beach.Making our way down from the highway……passing some shanties along the way……before finally arriving at the water.The tide was high.Looking for a way to get across an inconveniently placed river……but in the end wading proved to be the only option.The sand before the rocks…And what rocks they were! Always a pain in the ass to scramble over, but the high tide required taking a higher and more treacherous route.She’s got some mountain goat in her…The worst is over now.Glad to put that behind me…Oh, good. My shoes are almost dry and here’s another river crossing…Life’s a beach sometimes.Back On-Home at Da’ Kudos the Subic contingent gives a welcome to the visiting Hashers from Angeles City.And in return I was welcomed to have a seat on the ice.And then the sun set on another day of Hashing.
Today I’ll also being Hashing with the Angeles crew. This time we are meeting up in Tibag. There are three trails–long, medium, and short; I’ll be taking the short route which doesn’t involve climbing the highest mountain in the area (up to Tralala). Should be fun, regardless. I like the area and we will be doing a cookout and enjoying our beers out there in the wilds.
