Apparently. I tend to avoid trite phrases like a plague, but damn, when it rains it pours! Pretty much non-stop for two days running now.
And of course, it’s been raining ever since so things are much worse on the streets now. This is when the shitty infrastructure really comes into play. The streets aren’t designed in such a way as that water rolls to the curb. Not that it would matter since the drainage systems are pretty much non-functional anyway. I’m not one to complain (much), but you’d think in a country where it rains hard four months a year they’d have figured out a better way. HaHa! I forgot. I’m in the Philippines. Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way. Ah, that’s better!
Yesterday in the late afternoon there was a brief pause in the storm so I figured I’d hustle on out to Alaska Club and watch the weekly Sons of Baccus (SOB) dance contest. I got about a hundred yards down the street and a light rain began to fall, so I opened up my umbrella. About this time one of the security guards pulls up in his trike and offers me a ride. I’m like, no thanks, I’ll walk. He gave me an incredulous look, and again patted the seat with a “get in” nod. I said, no really I need the exercise. He shrugged and rode off.
And then the skies opened up and water poured down in torrents. Actually, with the wind kicking in it poured down and sideways. My umbrella was no match for this onslaught and soon enough I was soaked to the skin and wading ankle deep through the river that a few minutes before had been a street. As I plodded along I could only mutter repeatedly “should have taken the trike. should have taken the trike…”
Made it to Alaska (about a ten minute walk) a few minutes before opening time. Jerry, the owner, let me in early, probably feeling sorry for me looking like a drowned puppy and all. I hadn’t been to Alaska for a couple of months and one of the dancers and a waitress both seemed gleeful to see my wallet me. I kid, but they were very sweet. It seems to be a thing here that the natives consider having a wet back will make you sick somehow. Sorta like the fan death thing in Korea. I assured them I’d be okay, but they insisted on drying me off as best as they were able. It did feel nice to have all that female touching going on, so who am I to complain? [I just went back and added commas to the second sentence in this paragraph. How did I do, Kevin?]
Anyway, the beer started flowing and soon enough I forgot about my wetness. I was asked to be a judge and accepted. I didn’t get photos of all the participating bars, but here are a couple:
In the end, I gave my first place vote to Alaska with Wet Spot a close second. Rum Jungle took third on my ticket. The other judges must have agreed because that was how the final result came down as well.
And so ended another night in paradise.
Bad dreamer, what’s your name
Looks like we’re ridin’ on the same train
Looks as though there’ll be more pain
There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
She came to me like a friend
She blew in on a southern wind
Now my heart is turned to stone again
There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
Maybe you just caught them at a bad moment, but those Alaska dancers in that first bar photo do not look happy at all.
As for your commas in the sentence you mentioned…
That sentence was fine, but there were several other sentences that left me thinking it’s high time I wrote a blog post about commas. Heh.
That was actually at the very beginning of the Alaska gals routine. I think they were focused but did enjoy themselves.
Looking forward to that comma, post. I need, all the help, I can get. 🙂