If it is really true that it is better to give than receive, I had a pretty good day yesterday.

I started with breakfast at Arizona. On the way, I successfully withdrew some pesos from the only BPI ATM in town. Turns out I was going to need them.

It has been quite some time since I’ve had a meal at Arizona. It’s a long way from home with lots of other options in between. I ordered a sausage and egg muffin. My date ordered lasagna. It took 45 minutes and we were the only customers. I asked my waitress what was going on and she just shrugged and said something about “chef issues”. Oh well. As I said, I have many other dining options for the future.

She was the reason I was there. Turns out yesterday was her brother’s birthday and she needed money for a cake. Since she lives nearby Arizona, I suggested we meet there. She was late, but not as late as the food. After we ate, I gave her 1000 pesos and wished her well.

While waiting for breakfast I received a frantic message from Maris at the Kitchenette. First time I’ve heard from her in a couple of weeks. She was in distress because the canteen was out of food stock and she had no money to buy more. She says she wants to stay open until she can find someone to take it over. I told her I’d stop by later after breakfast. Maris was alone when I arrived. I told her if she sold out of food and had no money to replace it, her prices were obviously too low. She started crying. I gave her 10,000 pesos and left. I don’t need that drama in my life. I gave her the opportunity, what she does with it is up to her. So far, I’m not impressed.

There was some good news when I got back home. My friend Bhel was finally being released from the hospital after an eight-day confinement. Seven of which were apparently unnecessary–she had the surgery the previous day.

Of course, she couldn’t actually leave the hospital until her account had been settled. That’s where I come in. Now, when I had first volunteered to provide the financial means for this surgery (and I did volunteer, she didn’t ask) it was supposed to be an in and out procedure, with at most an overnight stay. I committed to 35,000 pesos ($700.) provided I could pay via credit card. Things changed, and instead of the private hospital and doctor, she wound up at Gordon hospital in Olongapo, which is known as “the place where people go to die” in the expat community. Her stories of seeming incompetence and uncaring attitudes from the staff were frankly shocking. I figured they were unnecessarily extending her stay just to run up the bill. I was almost afraid to ask how much she needed to buy her freedom. She sent me the bill and I was pleasantly surprised to discover you can be tortured for eight days for just under 30,000 pesos. Since Gordon doesn’t accept credit card payments, I wired the money via Western Union, and her freedom was secured. I had given 10,000 when she checked in for meds and tests, so all in was close to what I had originally agreed to fund. Here’s to wishing Bhel a full and complete recovery.

Jane needed parts for her motor scooter and food for her kids and pleaded with me to let her give me a massage. I guess I was in a giving mood, so she came over and rubbed me the right way. She’s actually a nice woman and doesn’t go overboard with her requests, so I don’t really mind helping her out occasionally. She left my house with 3500 pesos and a bag of cookies.

I had planned to do another bar review yesterday evening, but when I walked by, that bar was under renovation. I’ll try again tomorrow. Since I was in the neighborhood, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter. Had some beers and bought some lady drink beers (3 at 200 pesos each) for my bar sweetheart, Roan. I also gave her a 100 peso tip when I left.

It was still a little before 8:00 and I wasn’t sure what to do next. I hadn’t had dinner but I also wasn’t feeling hungry. I thought about just taking a trike back home, but then decided I’d have another beer at Barcelona. It’s been ages since I’ve been there. I was surprised when the door girl greeted me by name. Remembering names seems to be a special talent for Filipinas in the service industry. It always makes me feel welcome even though I have no clue who it is that is speaking to me. I had a couple more beers and for some reason, I was in a shitty mood at the end of my long day. I even felt compelled to take a selfie to document those feelings:

Oh well, today’s another day. Led the group hike this morning and I’ll post about that tomorrow. I’ve got the Friday darts tourney at Alley Cats on tap a bit later. Hmm, might need to hit that ATM again too.

I’m not sure this is correct, but I guess it illustrates how a comma can make a difference.

And that’s all he wrote.