I arrived at Whiskey Girl for the second-anniversary celebration about thirty minutes before opening, so I chilled next door at the Outback pool bar to pass the time. I returned to WG when the doors opened and plopped down at a stage front table to enjoy the festivities.

I had my VIP ticket, which entitled me to drink for free from 5 to 6 p.m., so I went to work to swallow every drop of value I could before time ran out. A raffle was on the agenda for later in the evening, so I received a ticket with every beer. That made it easy to keep track of what I consumed. And now I know the rate at which I drink (when the beer is free anyway) is five bottles per hour. I couldn’t help but smile at the symmetry of my drinking speed and my walking speed of five kilometers per hour. As I like to say, I’m a walkaholic by day and an alcoholic at night. Hey, if you are going to do something, do it well, right?

I’d brought a batch of my brownies to share with the hard-working girls, and they seemed to enjoy them. Cookies for the kids, brownies for the brown knees. It’s nice to have balance in life.

My waitress friend and cuddle bunny Jenn wasn’t working (she’s still on a barfine), but another waitress volunteered to fill the void–literally–she sat down next to me and started to rub my leg. Naturally, I bought her a drink.

My new waitress friend got up without a word and disappeared. I assumed she was either in the CR or taking care of a customer. She never returned to finish her drink, and I learned later that she had gone on a barfine with another customer. I’ve railed about that kind of behavior before–have the courtesy to finish your over-priced drink or at least to say, “Sorry, I have to go; my regular customer is here.” I’m always okay with that. Anyway, I didn’t let the rude behavior spoil my celebratory mood, but she’ll never earn another drink commission from me again, either.

The Whiskey Girl dance team has won the last two SOB dance competitions, and they put on their performance for the crowd last night (the place was packed, indeed). It was a great show, and I enjoyed watching it from my front-row seat. I felt some kind of reward was in order, so I called down my favorite dancer to join me for a drink.

The guy at the table next to me called the other four dancers down, and he bought them all bottled lady drinks, aka doubles, at 300 pesos each (I was paying 180 for my singles). I asked my new dancer friend if she felt slighted by my cheap Charlie ways, and she told me not at all. I explained that I wouldn’t pay 300 for a beer as a matter of principle, but I had no problem buying two singles so that she would not lose out on the commission end. I actually wound up buying her three and gave a very nice tip, so she seemed happy.

The first raffle of the night was at 7 p.m., and I wasn’t drawn, despite the massive number of tickets with my name on them from my beer and lady drink purchases. The next drawing wasn’t until 8:00, and given my consumption rate, I knew I wouldn’t be up for that. Besides, I had one more stop to make before going home–a nightcap at Queen Victoria.

I’d promised my new friend Angie I would come by and have a drink with her, and I try to be a man of my word. I really do enjoy her company, even if she’s not the cutest girl in the bar. She hadn’t had dinner, so I sprang for a pizza from Shamboli’s for her and her co-workers.

I didn’t stay long, but Angie said she would be joining today’s hike, and she showed up on time and everything. It’s kind of a weird dance we are doing. Angie has asked me twice if I wanted a massage, and both times I have declined. I’m just in this place right now where I don’t want to pay for physical affection–at least not directly. Yeah, I know, that is so unlike me. Maybe it is just a phase I’m going through, or maybe I’m just hoping to find someone who wants to touch me for the mutual pleasure it would bring us. Hey, it could happen!

Facebook memories reminded me of that time five years ago when I kicked Kevin Kim’s ass.

Ten years ago, I thought I’d settled into my American life with my Korean wife. Had my nice little house all set up for my darting fanaticism, and it felt like I was living the dream.

And John Kim posted this update on his Facebook page:

Luckily all my surgeries went well and now I am getting dialysis regularly. I have no pain and I must again appreciate for all the support. You guys saved me when I really wanted to give it up. Thank you.

Study says, average dialysis patient make it to 5 years. I have no complaints on that. Instead of getting all depressed, I want to live well for next five years. I love what I do, so I am lucky in that department. But I don’t want to be remembered as just a workaholic to my loved ones. I need to spend some time with them other than working together.

Starting from next week, John’s Sushi And Steakhouse will be closed on Wednesday. I want to and need to spend some time with my family and my coworkers. I want to see more of Zambales with them, before I am not able to move around. I hope you guys understand.

Well, I’m glad he’ll be around six days a week!

I’ve carved out some time for the devil in my life every day. I’m really enjoying Lucifer so far. I’m not a reviewer like the esteemed Mr. Kim, but I know what I like, and this show appeals on several levels–good acting and an exciting storyline with a mix of police detective work and Biblical references. It sounds crazy, but it works. I was born in Los Angeles, where the series is based, and the aerial views and street scenes bring back memories from my youth. (I was raised south of LA in Orange County but spent lots of time in the big city at Dodger Stadium and rock concert venues.)

Thanks for reading; I’ll be back with more tomorrow, including photos from today’s group hike.