A pretty darn good Hash trail yesterday. At least the parts I did. Difficult enough to get the heart racing but not so hard that it stopped being fun. Of course, avoiding the first and biggest climb of the day helped in that regard. Credit where it is due, though, to the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, who actually found some new paths for us to tread, and he did his usual fine job of marking a trail that was easy to follow.
Leech’s trail in purple, and the “sane” group’s shortcuts in orange.And we are off, heading up Rizal Extension instead of the mountain.Wild FilipinasInto the woodlandsA covered bridge is a rare sight in these parts.Lending ISD a hand on steep downMade it!The trail had its ups and downs.Time to climb againPubic Head getting his ass kicked.Almost to the topThe view from up hereThe view of down there. Now, I didn’t take that photo, and she’s the one who posted it on Facebook. I’m just sharing with my readers so they can see what I saw.There was a time in my life when I’d get high on grass. These days, it’s the grass that’s high.This is not to say we don’t find ways to still get highOn-Home at Johansson’sCircle up!
After the Hash, I continued my drinking spree at Alaska Club, bought some lady drinks, then triked home for a smoothie and some sleep.
And now today is the tomorrow I worried about yesterday. I guess that’s the carousel of time thing Joni Mitchell sang about.
And here is today’s installment from the SOB dance competition–The Whiskey Girls.
Yesterday I received a Facebook message from my friend Dave, who has been back in the USA for several months. I don’t think I’ve we’ve communicated directly since his departure, but I do know he is scheduled to return here in November. So, it was a little surprising to get his message asking me to send his girlfriend (who I also know) $200 and that he would repay me next month. Knowing Dave, I wasn’t worried about him paying me back, and I assumed it must be some emergency, or he wouldn’t have reached out to me. So, I wrote back asking for Jo’s full name as it appears on her ID so I could wire the money via Xoom (the money transfer service I use). Dave sent the name, and I completed the transfer without further delay.
I promptly sent Dave the receipt.
I told Dave the money was available for pick up at any of the usual money exchange locations; all Jo needed was her ID and the claim number. I was a little taken aback when, instead of thanking me, Dave asked if I would send it to Jo’s PayMaya account (it’s one of those e-money things) instead. I told Dave I had no idea how to do that, and he explained I could do it directly to her account through Xoom. Again, I wasn’t sure what this emergency was all about, but maybe Jo wasn’t physically capable of picking up the cash in person. So, being the good friend I am, I logged back into Xoom, canceled the original transfer, and resent the money to the PayMaya account. I advised Dave the money was sent in the manner requested.
Still no thank you, but a few minutes later, Dave told me the money had not yet arrived. I checked my email for the Xoom receipt and instead found a message from Xoom saying the transaction had been canceled for “security reasons.” I assumed that my canceling the original send and then immediately doing the second was the cause for their concern. I responded to the email explaining the circumstances and advised Dave we would need to wait for Xoom to approve the transfer.
In the meantime, I took a look at my Facebook feed and saw a post from Jack saying that if anyone got a message from him asking for money, it wasn’t legit. Yikes! Talk about a light bulb coming on–it was as blinding as my stupidity. I immediately searched for Dave’s name on Facebook and found both his real account and a newly created one–it was the new account I had been chatting with. Yep, the whole thing had been a scam, and I had stupidly fallen for it. If Xoom hadn’t flagged the second transaction, I would have been out two hundred bucks. Jesus.
It also explained why “Dave” didn’t want the standard wire transfer. He didn’t have the required ID with Jo’s name on it to pick up the cash. I guess a fake PayMaya account is just a number that no one can check. I sent my buddy Scott, who is also friends with Jack and Dave, a message giving him a heads-up. Scott was already aware of the scam, saying Dave had received a money request from Jack and had alerted him to what was going on. That scared me, and I’ve been checking Facebook periodically to make sure the scammer hasn’t created another account in MY name. So far, so good.
Oh, and Scott also sent me a message asking for a donation to his PayPal account: asuckerborneveryminute@gmail. Everyone’s a comedian these days. Or a scammer.
Here’s the lesson to be learned:
Don’t be as stupid as this guy!
In other news, my solo Sunday stroll looked like this:
I gave myself a break and kept it a short 5K. You can see I wimped out at the end and took a trike ride back up the hill to Alta Vista.
My Sunday evening bar crawl started at It Doesn’t Matter, then Green Room, Hideaway, and finished at Mugshots. No lady drinks at IDM, dinner from Sit-n-Bull at the Green Room, plus a game of pool (I actually won!). I hadn’t planned to do Hideaway since I’d done the feeding the night before, but Joy was hungry, so I brought some roast chicken from Chooks for the girls. Then when I was walking back to my side of town, all the new girls at Mugshots were seated outside, so I joined them for one last beer. No lady drinks, but I tipped the four of them 50 pesos each when I left.
It’s Hash Monday, and Leech My Nuggets is the Hare. That portends a challenging trail. Even harder for me because the trail begins at Barretto High School on Rizal Extension, a good long walk from my house. I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind and get there by going over the mountain instead of around it. That cuts down the distance, but I’m not keen on hiking in the hills alone. If I don’t post here tomorrow, send out a rescue party!
Almost forgot, today’s SOB video, The Queen Victoria team:
I guess my big accomplishment yesterday was booking my flight to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I’ll be leaving on 1 November and returning on the 8th, a quick one-week journey. I couldn’t get a direct flight out of Clark in Angeles, so I’ll be making the dreaded trip to Manila. It’s only three hours in the air, and I’ll be arriving in Cambo just before midnight. The return trip leaves at 0200 and arrives back in Manila around 5 a.m. That’s a bit of a pain, but that was the only direct flight available. It’s on Philippines Air, so hopefully, things will go as planned.
It’s been almost three years since I’ve traveled anywhere, and what used to be old hat, like making plane reservations, was a bit more challenging than I remembered. In the old days, I’d look for cheap fares using Kayak, but now it would redirect me to companies I’d never heard of before, and I was loathed to put my credit card info out there on the internet. I wound up booking through Expedia since I know they are legit.
I still need to find a hotel, the one my friend who lives there recommended was already sold out. I will also have to get an “onward” ticket showing I’ll be leaving the Philippines within thirty days of my arrival. Yes, you can extend your tourist visa (which I’ve been doing for three years now), but you must show a flight out when you first arrive. I also practiced completing the online “e-arrival card” that is required of all passengers flying into the Philippines, showing their vaccination history. I’ll need to resubmit it 72 hours before my return flight, and since I’ve not had a booster shot, I’ll also need to get tested 24 hours before I come back.
Next up on my travel to-do list is getting my approval to exit the country. I guess they check to make sure I’m not wanted for any high crimes and misdemeanors. It’s a pain in the ass because I’ll need to get three 2×2 photos and take my passport, ACR card, tourist visa paperwork, and a copy of my flight itinerary to the immigration office no less than three days before I travel (then go back and pick it up). Nothing to be done but to do it all and be glad for the opportunity to see something new. Well, I’ve been to Phnom Penh once previously, but I’m looking forward to going back.
My solo Saturday street walk in Barretto was right at 7K. I ended my walk at Sit-n-Bull and took home a meaty sub sandwich for lunch.
I attended a birthday party for two of the girls at Hideaway last night.
I provided one of the cakes and contributed a pizza to the smorgasbord of foods.The gals did a nice job with the decorations as well.
I stayed longer than usual and even participated in some of the party games. One involved a banana and another an egg, but the girls did all the work. I’ll leave it at that.
After leaving Hideaway, I saw Mugshots was open for business. Turns out they close on Wednesdays, which is what led to my confusion. Another change is that they’ve updated their business model to include bargirls now. One of them was sitting outside and called me as I walked past–she was the ex of the guy who is now dating my ex. Ah, the joys of small-town living! Anyway, I went inside to have a beer and check it out. It’s nice inside, and I think adding girls to the mix will help business. I’ll likely be back, although I don’t intend to get involved with the gal who is the ex–didn’t even buy her a drink last night. I like a no-drama lifestyle.
Continuing my trek up the highway, I saw yet another samgyeopsal restaurant had now opened.
Yeah, they spelled it wrong. And don’t be distracted by the Christmas directions–we are in the high holiday season now, “the ber months” here in the Philippines. The restaurant is on the second floor (it used to be a bar I rather enjoyed) and right across the highway from the Central Park Reef hotel. I expect they’ll do alright. I’ll give it a try soon.
I had a coupon, “buy a lady drink, get a free customer drink,” for Whiskey Girl, so that was my next stop. I sat in the back, away from the loud music, and Jenn soon joined me for some more snuggling and cuddling. She’s a little chubby, but I find her oddly attractive. She’s also forty years old with a sixteen-year-old son. Neither of those facts is a deal breaker for me. Her only day off is Sunday, and she spends it in San Marcelino (about 20K from here) with family. I’d kind of like to spend some time with her outside of the bar, but not sure about the logistics given her schedule.
It was after eight, and I should have been heading home, but instead, I decided to pop into Snackbar. I sat at an outside table with my hiking buddies and, of course, bought them all a drink.
It’s a hard life I’m living, but I’m doing my best. Honest! (Notice those hats? The girls bought them for future hiking excursions. I think they might be hooked.)
There was live music blaring from upstairs. I asked what that was all about, and the girls told me a grand opening celebration was taking place. For what? A bar? I asked. Nope, a new restaurant. You guessed it, a samgyeopsal restaurant. Filipinos love that pork belly!
I didn’t stay long at Snackbar. I’d had enough to drink, and I have some personal issues there. I’ll see the crew on hikes and patronize bars that don’t leave me feeling unappreciated. Lots of those in town.
And a whole lot more to explore ten days from now in Cambodia! What a life.
Oh, someone posted videos from this week’s SOB contest. I’ll share one a day for any of you guys who want to see the performances. Here are the Champion Voodoo ladies:
And don’t worry, they are safe for work. At least there is no nudity.
A pleasant enough evening out on the town last night. The SOB competition was held at Voodoo, a small venue, and it was packed. I was fortunate to be seated at the VIP table with the event sponsor, Daddy Dave. Also had my Voodoo sweetie by my side to keep me comfortable during the event. And it turns out SOB history was made in that, for the first time, Alaska, Wet Spot, Green Room, and Hot Zone were NOT among the winners. Yep, the three perennial also-rans really upped their dance game last night to finish in the money. It was an impressive showing.
The Whiskey Girls team took third place.Queen Victoria was second.And Voodoo was the champion. Congrats and well-earned!
I didn’t attend the Aftermath event, instead choosing to hang out in The Green Room for a while. I actually got coerced into playing a game of pool for the first time in years. Of course, I lost, but I didn’t give a shit. I played better than I expected I would.
Home by my appointed bedtime hour as is my custom.
Which leaves my daytime activity–the hike with the Friday walking group. We kept it mostly flat and somewhat beachy, doing a little over 7K in and around Calapacuan.
The path we walkedThe gathering groupFour of the Snackbar girls joined inBound for CalapacuanOff that f’n highway at last!On the beachBoats on the bayWhat you see at this seashore is not all that scenic, but it’s reality.Walking the wall to keep our feet dryAnother bay viewOff the rocksThe day’s catchStarfish on the beach?We left the beach, crossed the highway, and walked around some more. Pond fishing versus ocean fishing, can’t say which is better.Asses in grassesWhat are the odds we will all cross this rickety bridge without a fall or it collapsing? The locals said, “one at a time,” so I went first. And lived to document with my camera tragedy or triumph.My money was on Scott, but he made it safely across. That round “beam” would roll under your feet, and the flat board was springy. Almost felt like dancing when you crossed.Celebrating our survival on a more substantial bridge.Strollin’ on the river…well, creek. Er, sewer?The straight and narrowThat’s right, gals. Those rubbers will keep you safe.The only climb on the day. Nice view on the way up.A brief highway jaunt going back to Barretto.Some of us did lunch at the sixth-floor restaurant of a relatively new hotel, the AM/PM. I went with the garlic parmesan chicken wings, and they were tasty.The view from the roof.
And there you have another episode in the story of my life in the retirement community called Barretto.
Made it through another day in paradise. Started the morning with my solo walk out Naugsol way.
Just a tad over 8K altogether.
A few of the things I saw along the way:
If you’ve got it, flaunt it.Viagra fallsA river runs through it.Seeing my future from the streets of San Isidro.My shortcut path in Alta Vista.
When beer o’clock rolled around, I headed into town. I had a coupon for the seldom-visited Whiskey Girl to use, but they weren’t open yet when I passed by. I kept walking until I reached It Doesn’t Matter, so I visited there for the first time in over a week. Both owners noted my absence and welcomed me back. I was on my first beer when I saw an old crush (unreciprocated) was there, and we had a brief chat. A bit later, Jessa and her new guy Wes arrived, and we exchanged friendly greetings. That’s part of small-town living, I suppose, there is always someone around you know, and sometimes that makes you feel even more alone. I finished my second beer and departed.
I made my way back up the highway toward Whiskey Girl but decided having dinner first was a good idea, so I made Mango’s my next stop. When I entered, one of the waitresses exclaimed, “oh my, we were just talking about you!” I didn’t ask if it was something good or bad, but hey, it’s nice to be remembered. Pork chops were in stock, so I ordered me up some and took my customary seat facing the bay.
Beats staring out at the highway, that’s for sure.
On impulse, I ordered some more pork chops for takeout and asked my waitress what side dishes I should get. She asked, “for a Filipina?” I nodded yes, and she said to get rice and veggies. So I did and told her, “enjoy your dinner.” She was both surprised and ecstatic. Well, that’s what you get for caring enough to think about me when I’m not around.
I’d almost forgotten just how damn good these grilled chops are. Enjoyed every bite.
My hunger satiated, I moved on to Whiskey Girl. Took a seat near the stage and ordered the first of several beers (buy one, get one). There was a dancer sitting near me who was exquisitely beautiful. It was hard to keep my eyes off her full breasts that seemed destined to escape from the small top she was wearing. And those long legs covered by the shortest of skirts. One of the hottest gals I’ve seen around. Chatted a bit and learned she was twenty years old and has no kids. It was loud in the bar, and I could barely hear her, and she didn’t seem to follow much of what I was saying, but damn, she was easy on the eyes, and I kept her lady drink glass filled during my visit. Sorry, she was shy to be photographed, and this morning I don’t remember her name. Oh well, she is too young and too pretty for the likes of me anyway.
The gal on the other side of me was a waitress named Jenn I had chatted with on previous visits. Pretty much the opposite of the dancer on my other side, looks-wise, but also much more personable. She’s actually quite witty and fun to talk to. Guess which one I preferred?
Surprised? I was a little. But this gal just made me feel good to be around. That’s pretty rare.
I’m going to have to update my Whiskey Girl review. I had a lot better time there than I expected. The music they played may as well have been from one of my playlists; I liked every song. My only complaint was it was too damn loud, but next time I’m going to sit in the back, away from the stage and speakers. I never pay much attention to the dancers anyway. And yes, when I visit again, I’m going to focus exclusively on Jenn. I’d like to get to know her better. Who knew chubby girls could be such good snugglers?
It was only eight o’clock when I left Whiskey Girl, but I’d had enough to drink, so I caught a trike back home. Made a banana-mango smoothie, then hit the hay.
As days go, yesterday was a pretty good one. Which maybe will seem pathetic to some of you living full and meaningful lives. But it is what it is, and I’m in full acceptance mode. Things are better than they were and perhaps not as good as they will be in the future, but I’m living my life one day at a time and making the best of each one until they run out. That’s what I call progress.
I had it in my mind to bake a cake for the Hideaway girls and proceeded accordingly. Once all the ingredients were blended, poured into the cake pans, and popped into the oven, I set my phone alarm for 2:53–thirty-five minutes later. Except in a moment of Biden-like idiocy, I somehow set the timer for 3:53. I got busy blogging and didn’t notice the passing of time until it was too late. The cake was not exactly burned, but it was dry and hard. My pride would certainly not let me serve such a debacle of tastelessness. Oh, well, it happens. With scarily increasing frequency.
The girls had to settle for Oreo cookies to go with their Chook’s fried chicken. They didn’t seem to mind.
Bye-bye chicken legAs sweet as a cookie
With my duties completed (and several beers downed) at Hideaway, I moved on back up the highway. I was thinking I’d pop into the new Mugshots bar, but it was closed. Not sure what’s up with that. Hard to believe the owner threw in the towel less than one month after opening. I’ll update when I learn more about the situation.
I made Cheap Charlies my second stop instead. I don’t go there as much these days. The bargirl there that is scamming her foreigner “boyfriend” or her husband (or both) ignored my presence, and I notice she has unfriended me on Facebook. That’s fine with me; her messages of “love” to that dumb fuck in the USA were disgusting to witness. Maybe she was afraid I was going to rat her out, but I would never do such a thing. That’s why I’m not using her name on the blog, either. It’s not my place to get involved–I’ll let Karma sort it out. I got a nice back rub and some company from my other two regulars, and hey, it’s cheaper to buy two girls drinks than it is three. Win-win!
When I departed CC, I wasn’t sure where I was going to go next, but I was thinking I’d visit somewhere I rarely frequent. Then on a whim, I decided to hit Sloppy Joes. As usual, I sat in the outdoor area, watching the world go by on the highway. I got good service from a cute waitress but no companionship. That’s fine too. A bit later, two other young ladies came out, and I assumed they were employees as well. They sat at the table next to me, and when I finished my beer and asked to pay my tab, the cute one in a short skirt encouraged me to stick around for a while and enjoy “the party.” Hmm, well, I still hadn’t hit my bedtime, and I couldn’t think of anything better to do, so I ordered another beer.
Then the two girls changed the music to something from this century and got up and danced together. Well, twerking would be more accurate. And that one in the short skirt was amazing. She could really shake that ass, but she was also doing full-leg splits to the floor like a gymnast. And then twerking from that position too. Naturally, that little skirt rode up, and I had a direct panty-shot view. It was the sexiest dance routine I think I’ve ever seen, and she was certainly more skilled than most of the bar dancers in town.
When she finished her routine, I got up to take a leak. When I returned, she was having a bit of a confrontation with a young woman who had driven up during my absence. It was a scene reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend trying to drag her man out of the bar. Hard to believe such a sexy gal who seemed to enjoy putting on a show for me could be lesbian. Maybe the other woman was her sister. Anyway, Miss sexy short skirt went out to the car with her friend or whomever it was. My waitress explained that the girl did not work at Sloppy Joe’s; she was just hanging out at the bar. A kind of weird end to my night, but I did rather enjoy it.
Well, I did have another weird thing occur–I heard from my Korean wife, something that rarely happens. She wanted some advice about someone she had met online. He claimed he was an American doctor in Iraq and couldn’t wire money from there to his daughter for her birthday. I advised her it was an obvious scam. But she told me that he sent her a copy of his American passport.
Well, the first two things that jumped out at me were that the signature (whatever it reads) doesn’t match the name of the passport. I also noted that the passport says it was issued in August 2022 and that it expires in August 2024. American passports are issued for ten-year periods.
Jee Yeun thanked me and blocked him. I hope she’s more careful about who she befriends in the future.
The other event in my day was the morning hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. We took a Jeepney out to Calapadayan (about 5K from Barretto). Our original plan was to do a short hill climb, then walk back to our little town. A wrong turn led to a much longer and steeper climb, and by the time we made it back down from the mountain, we were tuckered out, so took a Jeepney back home. Finished our adventure with lunch at John’s place.
Here are some photos from our journey:
The path we took Our original plan was to go between those peaks, then walk the back roads to Barretto.At our 7/11 gathering spotRosemarie and Lydell from Snackbar joined us on our hike.On the mean streets of CalapadayanMonkeying around for the group shotLeaving the gorilla in our midstSomething seemed off about this street sign.The guys leading the pack couldn’t hear Scott’s warning that they had missed the turn.At the gates of an abandoned water park. Now what do we do?I’m sorry, but sliding out of a downed jetliner seems just a tad creepy to me.And there was also a dinosaur in the woods.Anyway, the waterpark was now a pigsty (literally), and a woman came out to advise us we were not welcome on their private property. So, we headed out in a different direction.A bridge crossingWe’ve got this in the bagWe had to keep walking to find out where the path would lead us.Charles in his role as the candyman.I got here first with the cookies, though!There’s no turning back nowAnd up we go!The conditions were jungle-likeBut still, we plodded onYoungsters like Lydell didn’t seem to have any issues with the climb. I heard a lot of bitching from some of the oldsters. Honestly, though, compared to last week’s stairway to heaven, this wasn’t so bad.Just gotta keep on keepin’ on.An uling (charcoal) “factory” on top of the mountain.Made for a nice resting and regrouping timeout.Alright then, let’s find our way down.The view from hereMust be a male treeOn downAlmost thereAh, solid ground!Heading for the highwayWaiting for a JeepneyRiding the Jeep back to BarrettoSome pool before lunch at John’s place (3rd-floor bar)The view from John’sMy roast beef and cheddar sandwich with fries. Deliciosio!
Another lazy Tuesday is in the books. I call it my lazy Tuesday because I go grocery shopping instead of hiking. This week Royal featured three items I was interested in at significantly discounted prices. I kept them together in the cart and then paid close attention as the cashier ran them through the scanner. All came out with the reduced price, so I’m happy to report that Royal didn’t try and scam me this week.
My mountain mama came to collect her weekly allowance and also gave me one of her great massages. Maybe the best ever. Sometimes I fantasize about building a hut up on her mountaintop and living that life with her. Of course, the reality is that I’d likely go stark raving mad after a week or two isolated up there.
In the afternoon, I got bored waiting for beer o’clock to roll around, so I decided to take a walk on Baloy beach. One of my reasons for doing so was that I’d been reading about the resolution of a property dispute, and the “rightful owners” were having the “squatters” removed from the land and their buildings destroyed. In my mind, I was picturing a few dilapidated shacks and shanties being dispensed with, but Wowza, it was a three-block stretch of destruction, including several beach resorts that catered to low-income Filipinos. When I walked by, it looked like someone had dropped a bomb.
I only took a photo of one of the former resorts, but they all looked like this. I guess the idea is to keep the squatters from moving back in. There were also a couple of security guards posted in the area. One rumor is a large new hotel will be constructed on this land. The other is that a casino will be built. This being the Philippines, I won’t be surprised if the land sits there looking like a war zone for years to come.
My other reason for visiting Baloy yesterday was to check out rumors that the Kokomo’s floating bar was once again anchored offshore.
And there she is! Listing and looking rather decrepit.I did a zoom shot for a better look-see, and it appears there is a LONG way to go renovation-wise before it will be ready to reopen for business, assuming it ever does. I hope so, though. I really enjoy the change of pace of sipping a cold beer out on the water.
In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for taking in beach views like this:
And this.
I walked on up the beach and noticed it was now beer o’clock, so I popped into McCoy’s for a cold one. It has been several weeks since my last visit here, and I was warmly greeted by the friendly bartender.
It’s good to be back!The view from my barstool. Not as nice as the floating bar, but it will do for now.
I wound up staying for three beers, then headed back up Baloy Road to Barretto. And since Snackbar is right at the intersection of Baloy and the highway, it was perfectly logical that I should pay them a visit while I was in the neighborhood.
I suppose there were other incentives as well.
I had a few more beers here and bought a round of lady drinks for the staff. The sad thing is that with the sister resto now closed, no food is available at the inaptly named Snackbar. I suggested to the owner that she get a Sit-n-Bull menu since they deliver, but she insisted she is going to find a new location for her kitchen. I wish her good luck with that effort.
Being hungry, I wandered up the highway to Wet Spot and had a big El Padre burrito delivered from Sit-n-Bull next door. It definitely hit the spot and filled a void. I washed it down with a couple more beers, then called it a night. According to my Fitbit, I was asleep shortly before 9 p.m.
That’s the way this old man rolls on a lazy Tuesday. Tonight I’ll be feeding the girls from Hideaway, and we’ll see what happens from there.
Oh, and let me leave you with this TikTok snippet of gals dancing to Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone.” And just so you know, I don’t normally indulge in TikTok at all (although the Chinese probably get a full account of my activities from Google anyway), but it was posted on the Althouse blog, and I did rather enjoy it. So here you go:
No, I’m still moving at a slow speed, but yesterday’s Hash trail was a little different and actually quite nice. Cumslinger was a first-time Hare (assisted by Fucking Cupcake), and while the area we hiked was familiar, the actual paths for most of the trail were new to me. There was one climb at the end that I managed to bypass, so I consider that a win too.
The meet-up location was at the junction of the National and Govic highways. From there, we took a hired Jeepney all the way out to Naugsol, which surprised me because I had signed on for the “easy” trail. Just walking the road back would have been a good slog, but as it turned out, the paths through the fields, forests, and landfills cut some of that distance down. I logged in at just over 6K, start to finish.
We had a heavy rain in the morning, but by the afternoon start, the sun was shining. The Hares had a unique way of marking most of the trail–stapling pieces of paper to leaves and tops of thatch grass. It actually worked pretty well visibility-wise, at least on my portion of the hike. I’m told the people who did the long trail got lost in places because some of the locals apparently removed the stapled paper the Hares had left. That’s the thing with powder and shredded paper on the ground; it’s much harder for malicious individuals to remove.
Here are some pictures from the journey:
Walking to the meet-up location, I saw this new store getting ready to open. I had to laugh at the unique name.And at the meeting location was a sign announcing a new samgyeopsal resto called Meat and Pan. The locals are crazy about grilled pork belly, I guess. By my count, that makes five locations featuring this delicacy in our little town. I also noted that this is the only one that actually spells ‘samgyeopsal’ correctly. (I misspelled it for years until a reader shamed me enough that I stopped writing “samgyapsol” which to me was phonetic, but apparently, I pronounce it wrong too)The path I (mostly) walkedLoaded up and ready to roll in the unique safety and comfort of the Jeepney.Well, hello there, Annabel. (She works at my old haunt, Alley Cats, and was my first crush when I moved to the Philippines.)Off-loading at our drop-off location on the road leading to Naugsol.And we are On-On!Over a rickety bridgeA wary carabaoThrough the fields, well, at the edge of the field anyway.I rarely see Easter mountain from this side.The wide-open spaces.This was a landfill up until about a year or so ago. Rumor has it is being groomed to be a new subdivision. I got a laugh as we walked along because I could still see some trash (plastic bottles, flip-flops, etc.) poking up through the dirt. If they do build houses here, folks will be in for a surprise if they want an in-ground swimming pool!Let’s get out of this dump!Into that damn tall grass again. ‘Tis the season.Another rarely viewed side of Easter mountain.Into the woods. You can see some of the paper markers in the tree leaves.We also had some pink chalk arrows to follow. (I jokingly called it a Pride trail).We brought some life to this cemetery as we passed through.You can’t see it, but this portion of the trail was wet and muddy underfoot.I honestly just now made the connection between the ubiquitous thatch grass we wade through and the very common thatch roofs on dwellings. At least it serves a meaningful purpose.Back on dry ground.A bloomin’ tree.A narrow passageway.And finally, we arrived at our On-Home venue, Yero’s. I kinda like this place, and if it were closer to my house, I’d drop in for a beer and a snack now and then.Over fifty Hashers were in attendance for yesterday’s adventure.A table full of Harriettes.And some more Gash standing.Cumslinger was rewarded for his efforts as a Hare by receiving the Hashit.
Well done!
You can Relive the hike here if you are so inclined:
So, I made it out to Angeles City and back unscathed. We signed up for the anniversary event at Premier Hotel, the ACH3 On-Home, then followed the jeepneys full of Hashers out to the trailhead, a thirty-minute drive over some very dicey roads (my driver’s vehicle bottomed out once and almost got stuck in sandy soil). Getting out again in the dark wasn’t much better, but we made it.
On the way to the start, I kept telling my Hash companion Scott that the scenery looked oddly familiar. He kept insisting we’d never been there before, but there was a dream-like “I remember this” quality to the views throughout the trip. And then, when we pulled into the field where the Hash event would be held, I knew for sure I’d been there. It was almost two years ago with the Corona Hash group. Scott hadn’t attended that run, so we were both right. And as it turned out, we wound up doing the exact same trail that I had Hashed with the Corona H3. So much for seeing something new on this trip.
That said, it was a nice trail on a beautiful day. A tough steep up, but it wasn’t too long. Some meandering along the hilltops, sometimes with a precipitous drop on either side, then a not-too-difficult climb down (on the medium trail anyone, I understand the long trail required a rope for the descent–no thank you!), and then a walk back to Hash circle on a flat dirt road. Took us about two hours from start to finish.
As usual, let’s tell the story in pictures:
We arrived in Angeles a little early, so we popped into this small resto-bar started by a female Hasher in AC. No, we didn’t drink alcohol before our hike, but we did order lunch.The interior walls feature the names of Hashers who have visited the resto-bar. They took our Hash names so we could be added to the collection.Our trail as seen from aboveSome added perspectiveThe Hare gives guidance prior to the start.And we are On-On!At the beginning of the climb to the topYeah, they are a bunch of posers.Steep it wasMy poor lungs were huffin’ and puffin’ all the way up.One step after another will eventually get you there.Finally!That would be meI used some zoom so you can see Angeles in the distanceAnother high viewI was pretty much back of the pack, as usualOne of those scary drops where one false step and you are a gonerWe all lived to tell about itThe serenity of survivalSee you crazy fuckers later; I’m going straight!I’m heading downThanks to Scott (Pubic Head) for a lot of these photosThe tunnel of love?Forward or backward are the only optionsHeading for the flatBuying some freshly harvested buko (coconut)They love that juice, er, milkSo that’s where bananas come from!Roadwork for the final kilometerAn Aeta (native) family we encountered along the way. Yep, they got the cookies!Almost there!The ACH3 anniversary gatheringAlmost like campingBut I managed to borrow a chair…
As Hash circles go, the AC version was pretty tame, if not lame. But everyone has their own style, and I can find plenty to criticize about how we do it in Subic, too. A long and expensive trip for a few hours of fun, but no regrets.
UPDATE: Well, I’ll be damned. Turns out that Corona Hash I mentioned was in March 2021. It’s a little scary that my memory of that trip was so vague. Ironically, that linked post was titled “Things can always be worse.” A couple of days later, I came down with the Corona, as did several other attendees. We all lived to tell about that, too.
This a rare morning post here at LTG, but I have a full day ahead of me, so I’m in “now or never” territory. I’ll be heading out to Angeles City in a couple of hours to participate in the ACH3 anniversary Hash run. Pubic Head and some of our Harriettes will be sharing the ride with me. Something different for my Sunday, and hopefully, we’ll all have fun.
Here’s how I filled those Saturday hours:
A sloppy-looking but tasty breakfast burrito got my day off to a good start.
I did my usual Saturday morning Barretto street walk.
Just under 8K, and I managed a 12.30 per kilometer pace, which is moving out for me.Right outside the subdivision gates, I observed this fallen bamboo tree caught up in the power lines. I fear there may be a “brownout” in my future (the power company is not big on preventive maintenance.)
During my solo walks, I wear my headphones and listen to music on Spotify. The playlists are usually full of songs that I’m familiar with, but every once in a while, I hear something new that resonates with my current mood. Yesterday I listened to a John Prine tune called “Clay Pigeons” for the first time. Here’s the verse that made me say, “who wrote this?” as I walked along (yeah, I must have looked like a crazy guy talking to myself on the street):
I'm tired of runnin' round lookin' for answers
To questions that I already know
I could build me a castle with memories
Just to have somewhere to go
Count the days and the nights
That it takes to get back in the saddle again
Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
And start talkin' again
When I know what to say
So, when I got back home, I looked at John Prine’s Wikipedia page and discovered that he didn’t write the song above; it was a cover version of the one written by someone named Blaze Foley, whom I’d never even heard of before. His wiki page revealed a life even more convoluted than mine–no wonder I liked his song!
But hey, there’s more to life than searching for obscure information on the internet.
There’s also baking. Like this carrot cake. It turned out yum! I also made a batch of brownies for the Hideaway girls.
Yes, I had to do my Sunday feeding last night because I don’t expect I’ll be back from my trip to AC in time to hit the bars.
And I know my readers look forward to seeing Joy enjoy her meal–roast chicken last night.
One of my ex-girlfriends was at the bar with her new beau, and it was good to see her happy. I can’t help but lament how things might have been if I was better at being a boyfriend, but that’s the way it seems to go for me.
I also encountered my most recent ex at my next beer stop. We are on friendly terms too, but those wounds aren’t entirely healed yet. No real regrets; I wasn’t a good fit for her either.
It was weird, though, that this appeared in my Facebook feed while I was in her presence.
Anyway, there’s someone for me somewhere. Or maybe not. This solitary life could be my destiny. God may be saying, “WTF, dude? How many chances do you expect in one lifetime? And oh, by the way, about that lifetime–it ain’t gonna last forever.”
This seems strangely apt.
But I’m living in the land where miracles do happen. Especially if you can afford to pay for them. Speaking of which, a girl I was plying with drinks last night was telling me all the right things. She either really likes me or she is really good at her job. We shall see.
Meet Jenn. I lifted this photo from her Facebook page. I’ve got to say I find her incredibly attractive. Of all the bargirls in Barretto, I like her the best.
Am I headed for bliss or for trouble? Time will tell, so stay tuned here at LTG!
It felt like hell along the way, but we made it to the top.
There's some hikers who know there's a long way to go
And they're climbing the stairway to heaven
When the get there they know they'll have sweat-soaked clothes
But they'll gain the sweet views that they came for
And they're climbing the stairway to heaven
Someone claimed it's a thousand steps, but we couldn't be sure
Because it seems no one has ever really counted
As we climbed our way up the locals thought we must be nuts
Because who goes that way if they don't have to
Ooh, and it makes me wonder
Ooh, and it makes me wonder
There's a feeling I get, that seems like regret
As my lungs they are crying for breathing
In my thoughts I have said this makes me feel dead
And I'm climbing these steps for the last time
And it makes me wonder
But then we make it to the top
And see our town down there below
And we can't help but let it show
How glad we are that we did go
We took each step and didn't stop
And though the hike was very hard
And we weren't moving very fast
We were all for fun and fun for all
We tripped on rocks but did not roll
We were climbing the stairway to heaven
(apologies to Led Zepplin and everyone who just read those butchered lyrics)
Alrighty then. Yesterday, our Friday group caught a Jeepney to Olongapo City and hiked back to Barretto by going up and over Kalaklan ridge using the path that has been dubbed “the stairway to heaven.” It’s been a long time since we’ve taken that route up and yesterday was a good reminder of why–it’s a tough bitch. I don’t know if it is really a thousand stair steps, but it was a 235-meter climb. But we got it done, and that brings with it a special sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Maybe for the last time.
Our path. A jeepney ride, a 1K road walk, a hard climb to the top of the ridge, then back down to Barretto town. We finished with some lunch at John’s place.Our Friday group of hikers.Our two newest members, Heidi on the left and Lydell on the right, seemed to enjoy themselves.A bit of highway walking at the start.This made me think of Kevin Kim’s unfortunate encounter with a horny driver during his Jeju island hike in South Korea.Then up an inclined street.I’m inclined to like what I see.And there it is–the stairway to heaven!A seemingly endless staircase testing our endurance.Onward!Upward!Name shame in taking a water stop along the way.And still, we climb the seemingly endless stair steps.A brief horizontal interlude.On and on and on we go.Tired yet, Scott?Almost there, don’t give up yet!So, I’m on the stairway to heaven. Looking down, I see Olongapo City. Does that mean it’s hell?A little diversion on the climb.At last, the end of the climb. “What took you so long, old man?”Way up here, all by itself, sits this abandoned house. There must be a story here. Maybe the hubby sent his wife down the stairs for beer one time too many.Regrouping on the ridgeline road.How’s that for a spider, Kevin?Let’s take a break.You can see my little slice of heaven from here!Even has angels!Movin’ out.Passing through the rooster farm.And walking the Great Wall of Barretto.Easter mountain as seen from the Great Wall.The Olongapo side of the bay.Let’s go home.Going down.And more down.Almost there.Back on flat ground and refreshments at the sari-sari store.Counting flowers on the wall that don’t bother me at all.Heidi and Lydell had enough energy to play pool while waiting for lunch to be served.I just took in the view.Ah, yes, pulled pork for me!The girls had bulgogi…And Korean-style chicken wings.
And that was my daytime trip to heaven.
Last night I did attend the SOB at Whiskey Girl. I met one of the Whiskey Girl girls, and she joined me for a few drinks before the show.
Say hello to Jah Jah, a 27-year-old cutie.We are now Facebook friends.
I wound up not going to the Aftermath and made it a relatively early evening. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll
And she's buying a stairway to Heaven
Started my evening at Snackbar, where I joined in celebrating the occasion of Lydell turning twenty-two. I honestly thought she was older than that, but then again, age is just a number (provided that number is at least 18).
That’s the birthday girl with the brownies I baked for her.Heidi made that big batch of spaghetti.The birthday cake I funded.Blow out the candle before the wind does.Mama walked by just in time to partake in some pasta and cake.Me and the girls.And one of Lydell and me. Hmm, well, she is only forty-five years my junior.And the view from my seat at Snackbar. There is a reason that looks like a 7/11 store parking lot.
Anyway, it was nice to participate in the BD party. This morning Lydell and Heidi joined the Friday group hike for the first time on one of our tougher trails and seemed to enjoy themselves. More on that with photos tomorrow.
Now it’s time to prepare for my Friday night. There could be an SOB in my future, although honestly, I’m on the fence about attending tonight’s performance. I might need a break this week, but we’ll see how I feel when the time comes.
The same old same old is feeling kind of old. Or maybe it’s just that I am. But what else am I going to do? It’s not like we have a library in town. I reckon a few cold beers will cure whatever it is that’s ailing me.
I’m pretty sure I’ve posted this here before. It came up in my Facebook memories from four years ago this morning. It’s a good reminder.
The feeding at Hideaway seemed to go well. My carrot cupcakes were especially popular, and who doesn’t enjoy some hot pizza from Shamboli’s?
Pizza eaterJoy sinks her teeth into a cupcake.
And, of course, there were lady drinks to wash it all down.
After Hideaway, I visited Cheap Charlies for the first time in quite a while. My new mode is not to let the shenanigans of a particular bargirl impact where I choose to imbibe my beers. So, last night when I arrived, the girl in question sidled up beside me, and I told her, “I hope you have a happy life” then I turned my back and ignored her. I guess she got the hint because she moved away. As an old timer advised me once after I first moved here: there’s a word you say when a Filipina disappoints you–NEXT!
Meet Diana, a sweet little 23-year-old, the replacement for my disappointment.
Here I go again with eyes wide open! Actually, I jest. Some lady drinks and some chat are my only expectations. That and at least pretending to be appreciative. So far, so good. The most interesting thing I learned about Diana last night was that she lives with her mom and dad in the little village at the bottom of the dirt path that takes me out of Alta Vista. We are practically neighbors! She said she had seen me hiking by there and handing out cookies. Anyway, it’s nice to make a new “friend.”
While at Cheap Charlies, I received a message from Lydell, one of the Snackbar girls, inviting me to join them.
How could I say no? That’s Lydell on the left with Rosemarie and Heidi.
Today is Lydell’s twenty-second birthday, and I am the proud sponsor for her party tonight at Snackbar.
And since I was the only customer last night, the lady drinks flowed! Everyone seemed to have a good time, and it cost me around $35. It’s not hard to live large in my little town!
So, that’s the update on my drinking life. In my hiking mode, I led the Wednesday Walkers up into the hills overlooking Barretto for a pleasant 6K trek. Only six of us were in attendance this go-round, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I’ll let the photos tell the story:
Pretty much how it was done…looks like there were a couple of burps in the GPS, though.Our merry band of walkers.Let the climbing begin.Some folks walk this every day; bless their hearts.That’s more like itSplendor in the grass.A nice view of Subic Bay.Posers!An Easter mountain viewBlooming thatch grassHello down there, Barrio Barretto!It seems that Todd has his hands full.We are in over our heads now!That’s the Kalaklan ridge off in the distance. Not going there this time.Mountain views.Todd holding court.Charles standing at the top of the hill that broke his leg last year.Another perspective on Easter mountain.A cookie delivery to my mountain friend, OliviaComing back down.Scott didn’t join us this week, so we tried without success to roust him when we passed his house.Dynamite Dick’s bound.
That’s how the day went down, from the end to the beginning. I’m happy to report it does not appear to be the beginning of the end.
I started my Tuesday with a trip to the immigration office to renew my tourist visa. Everything went as it normally does, except that when I got my paperwork back, it included instructions for leaving the country and a handwritten “last extension.” I guess I’ve just about worn out my welcome.
I’ve been renewing my tourist visa every sixty days. The maximum time in country on a tourist visa is three years. My time is up in December.
Right now, I’m in the initial planning phase for a trip to Cambodia next month. I was disappointed to see I’m going to have to fly out of Manila instead of the much more conveniently located airport in Angeles. Provided the Philippines allows me to re-enter the country, my tourist visa clock resets for three years. Returning shouldn’t be a problem now that I’ve been vaxxed, but there are several paperwork hoops I need to jump through before I can get back in. Hopefully, there won’t be any problems with that.
No excitement at the grocery store unless you find steadily increasing prices exciting. The only saving grace is the dollar continues to gain strength.
This is a historic high for the dollar. Not enough to keep up with inflation, but better than nothing.
Jen, one of the Hideaway girls, had a birthday yesterday, and Joy asked me to bring her a cake.
She seemed to appreciate the sentiment.
After I departed Hideaway, I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go. I had half a mind (shuddup!) to enjoy the vistas from BarCelona, but as I passed by It Doesn’t Matter, it occurred to me that I shouldn’t let my disappointment with being a bad judge of character impact my choices on where to enjoy a cold beer. Time to let the past go and move on, so IDM it was.
I actually spent more time than I usually do there, almost two hours. I greeted all the familiar faces, then settled into my outdoor seat to watch the world go by. And guess who was sitting next to me, keeping me company?
That’s right, no one. I bought zero lady drinks during my visit. I usually buy several at 200 pesos a pop, so my savings were pretty significant. Although, honestly, it’s never been about the money for me.
In case you are wondering, yes, Agnes was my waitress. I was, of course, polite, and she was friendly. That’s the way it should be.
By the time I departed IDM, I was feeling no pain. The usual trike stands were empty, so I hoofed it up the highway all the way to Queen Victoria. Popped in there and had one more for the road, then found a trike for home.
I woke up this morning to a Facebook reminder that I was hanging out in Pattaya, Thailand, six years ago.
I visited a place called Pussy Bar, and this lovely lady kept me company. There was something special about her; I could feel it inside me. Turns out, there was no pussy in pussy bar, only ladyboys. This one was very friendly, but she didn’t get my cherry.
There is a boy I love, though, right here in Barretto:
I love how he is making the heart symbol with his front legs. Love you too, Buddy!
A nice hike with the Wednesday Walkers I’ll post about tomorrow. It’s feeding night again at Hideaway, and I baked up a batch of carrot cupcakes to share with the girls for dessert (I’ll order a pizza for the main course).
Out of the oven…Cream cheese frosting and ready to go!
Alright, that brings y’all up to date in my corner of the world. See you here again soon!
A pretty nice Hash yesterday. A lot of the trail I did was unfamiliar to me, and that’s always a plus. It was challenging enough without being insanely difficult. Which is not to say I didn’t shortcut; of course I did! I was dead last amongst the early group, and when all the runners from the late group had passed me, I figured I’d best get back On-Home before all the beer was gone. If I have any regrets, they are too few to mention.
The trail as intended, with my deviation in blue.Gathering inside the VFW before the hike.And outside for last-minute instructions from the Hare.And we are On-On!We began on the backstreets of Barretto.A narrow escapeUp the stairs to the squatter’s villageIn the squatter villageA squatter’s view of Easter mountainThen down into Alta VistaOn the wide-open streets of my neighborhood. We actually walked right past my current residence.We exited the ‘hood on a path I’ve seldom traversed.The trail had some ups and downs and a creek crossing but was pleasant for the most part.Thatch grass in full blossom.A view from on highMe and these three were bringing up the rear. Not sure why I was so slow yesterday, that’s just my way I suppose.People live back here in the woods.This wouldn’t be the life for me.I’d never seen a plant like this, but one of my group said it can be used like soap.Selfie timeOur On-Home was at Blue Butterfly this week.Drink it down, down, down, down.
Some after-Hash beers at It Doesn’t Matter. Agnes greeted me with a hug. I was polite. No, I didn’t buy her a drink.
But I had another one when I got back home just for the helluva it. That’s my way.
That seems to be the way it works around these parts.
Anyway, before I go into rant mode, let me share the photos from last night’s feeding at Hideaway. After finishing my doctor’s appointment, I ordered take-out from Sit-n-Bull for the girls.
Chicken fingers…Lumpia…And lasagna, Joy’s favorite.Yum!Joy also sank her teeth into a cranberry muffin.
As usual, it was a good time, and the girls were all appreciative. The bi-weekly feeding events are something we all look forward to.
But here’s the darker side. I stopped in another bar after leaving Hideaway. One of the girls currently working there briefly participated in my “friends with benefits” program while she was unemployed during the scamdemic. She’s got three kids, including one that might be just over one year old now (she was still lactating when she was an FWB). Nice enough gal and very attractive. The problem was that I discovered she is still married. That’s not unusual, I suppose, especially since divorce is not allowed in the Philippines. But her husband was still living at home with her and the kids. Adultery is a crime in the PI, and I had no intention of going down that road. I don’t know if he knew what his wife was doing with me, but I didn’t want to be around her if and when he found out. So, I stopped seeing her and shortly thereafter ended the FWB program. We did remain Facebook friends.
She came back to work in the bar several months ago, and we renewed our “lady drink” relationship. She told me her husband was working out of town. One night she came into the bar on her night off with a foreigner. That’s pretty unusual in and of itself; most of the girls keep their non-work life out of the bar. I guess he was a tourist because he’s now back in his home country. I know this because the girl in question is posting endless threads on Facebook (with photos of their video chats), professing her endless and undying love for this man. Hell, for all I know, she might even mean it. But last night, she took her usual seat next to me in expectation of getting lady drink commissions.
At first, I was inclined just to ignore her. The were two other gals vying for my attention as well. One is new, and the other I’ve known for years. But in the end, I just decided it was none of my business. Odds are good she is scamming this guy for monthly “support” money, and honestly if he is stupid enough to send it to her, why should I care? I wouldn’t be surprised if the husband is a willing participant. Having a “rich” foreigner around helps pay the rent. Indeed, perhaps I should congratulate her. Well, I guess I sort of did when I bought her the drink she coveted. See, that’s how the game is played, and I’m getting better at it. The trick is not to get played in the process.
I also heard from Agnes for the first time since she abandoned her lady drink from me to play kissy-face with another guy in the bar. I responded to her message by asking how things were going with the boyfriend. She answered that he was “just a friend.” I said, “do you tongue-kiss all your friends in the middle of a crowded bar?” For some reason, she never responded to that question. Oh well.
I’ve got a healthy case of “I don’t give a shit anymore” now, and I’m just going to do what I want when I want with whomever I want and not even worry about it. None of this crap is real, anyway. There’s freedom in that knowledge.
Things went fine with the doctor. I got another set of nostril injections, and today I have a good reduction in congestion (I couldn’t breathe through my nose at all yesterday). I’m still dealing with my lung issues, but I fear that may be my new normal. I’m still in the game as long as I’m still breathing, and that’s how I want to keep it.
I was an HR professional for 30+ years, but I see now I was in the wrong kind of HR.
It’s another Hash Monday, so here’s hoping it’s a good day on trail. Back with a full report tomorrow.
You can't hide your lyin' eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes
Fall has arrived in the Philippines! But around here, it ain’t the leaves that are falling off trees…
…it’s the branches!
The construction behind my house continues apace, and the noise is quite irritating. Annoising if you will. I try and time my nap from noon until 1:00 while the workers are on lunch break.
As things are taking shape, it looks like part of my view will survive. I expect I’ll be gone before the construction is finished, though.
Escaping the sounds of creation makes my morning walks all the more pleasant.
And it looks like rainy season is finally behind us.
So, about last night. I had good intentions to start the evening off with some darts practice. Then I remembered that Barretto was undergoing a scheduled brownout (power interruption) until 5 p.m. (I’m technically in San Isidro, so wasn’t impacted). I knew Johansson’s wouldn’t have a generator, so I left the darts at home and went to It Doesn’t Matter instead.
It was the first time I’d been back since the incident with Agnes, and she wasn’t there. Maybe her biker boyfriend is supporting her now. None of my business, and I certainly wouldn’t be buying her drinks again, regardless. My waitress this time was Maria, and she’d always been flirty, and after a couple of beers, I invited her to join me (I know, I know, but old habits die hard.) She brings her beer over to where I’m seated; we tap bottles, she takes a swig and says, “I’ll be back.” Maybe you’ve guessed where this is going–she never returned to finish her beer. I really don’t understand that mentality at all; the deal is she gets the commission, and I get some of her time. Ignoring a customer is a losing proposition in the long run–Maria will certainly never get a drink from me in the future. Maybe I should be thanking her for saving me the money.
When it came time for me to move on, I was craving an elevated view. I decided BarCelona would give me what I was looking for. I ordered a beer and took a seat out on the rooftop.
Off to my right, the sun was going down.And on my left, the moon was rising. It was an interesting juxtaposition as I drank my beer and pondered the mysteries of the universe.
When it was time to refresh my beer, there was no waitress to be found (I was alone on the roof). So, I went inside and noted that the girls were all congregated around the pool table. I stood at the bar and waited (the bartender was MIA as well). After a few minutes, a waitress did approach me and said what sounded like, “You should sit beside me; I don’t want to have to go all the way out there.” I gave a grumpy response along the lines of “sorry to make you do your job,” and went back to my table to wait for the beer. When she brought it, she sat down next to me, which surprised me a little. She said, “yeah, I want to be close when you need another beer; that’s why I said I would sit next to you.” Ah, I had misunderstood what she said before; okay, my bad. We had a nice chat, and I wound up buying her a drink to make up for the misunderstanding.
I had a “buy one, get one” coupon for Hot Zone, so I made that my next destination. It wasn’t busy when I arrived, so I settled back and watched the dancers as I sipped my beer. HZ does have some of the hottest girls in town on stage; I’ll grant them that. Well, except they weren’t on stage long–a group of Korean men came in and brought all but one of the dancers down for lady drinks. I think they had most of the waitresses around their table too. Ah, just like the good ol’ days–big-spending tourists spoil the girls, so locals like me don’t have to! Well done, gentlemen.
I left Hot Zone and headed down the highway toward home, but I still had an hour or so to kill. I paused at Sloppy Joe’s but decided to do Queen Victoria instead. They weren’t busy either, and I was still on my first beer when my old regular TinTin plopped down on the stool next to me. She didn’t perform with the QV group at the SOB, so I asked her about that. She said she hadn’t had time to learn the new routine yet. I responded that she should tell her new boyfriend she needs to practice. She answered, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” The Tagalog word for that is “bola bola,” which roughly translates as “bullshit.”
I offered TinTin a drink in exchange for a photo. Dental care in this country is as whacked as medical treatment. When TinTin smiles now, she is missing several upper teeth, what I call the choppers. Pulling teeth in the USA is like the last option; here, it is the go-to solution for a toothache. TinTin is just twenty-one years old. I guess someday she’ll have a bridge made, assuming she can ever afford to do so. Anyway, I wanted a picture of that toothless smile, and she wouldn’t cooperate. I bought her a drink anyway.
I will also confess that seeing that toothless grin made me wonder how good she is at blowjobs. Yeah, I’m a sick bastard.
I didn’t stay long at Queen Vic, and after exiting the building, I noted there were no trikes standing by in the usual location, so I walked a couple of blocks to the trike stand at Baloy road. And, of course, that put me out in front of Snackbar. It’s been a few weeks since my last appearance there (I hadn’t felt welcome), but my beer impairment overcame whatever grievances I was holding, and I popped in to have one more for the road. I was very surprised to see Lydell, one of my favorites from the now-defunct Kamto, working there. Last I’d seen her; she was at Adam’s Bar. And most of the other regulars did give me a hearty welcome back, so maybe those grievances were all in my head. And yes, we celebrated my return with a round of lady drinks. What can I say? I guess it’s just my nature.
Seriously, I do enjoy being generous with the girls. Makes me feel good, so it’s as much about me as it is about them. Rather than change my ways, I’m thinking avoiding the bad ones (like Agnes and Maria at IDM) is a better course of action. We’ll see how that works out for me.
Why do I find this so funny?
And that brings y’all right up to date. Feeding night a Hideaway later. I also have an appointment with Dr. Jo this afternoon. Updates on all that tomorrow.
Rules are for slaves, and I refuse to be a slave to my own rules. Yeah, that’s the ticket!
I started my SOB Friday with a stop at Cheap Charlies. I reasoned that CC is directly across the street from the SOB host, Hot Zone. I wanted to keep an eye on when the doors opened to ensure I got a good seat in a relatively small venue. My strategy worked, and I was one of the first to arrive. When the event started, every seat in the house was occupied.
I hadn’t been to Cheap Charlies in a week or two, but that didn’t prevent three of my old regulars from taking seats beside and behind me. I nursed my beer, and the girls rubbed my arms and back. I didn’t relent and buy them lady drinks, though. I was there for less than an hour, and that didn’t burden my willpower much. I did give them each a 50 peso tip when I left, which I considered payment for services rendered.
I also ignored my “regular” at Hot Zone. To be fair, she’s been ignoring me too ever since I declined to give her 2000 pesos so she could visit her kids. Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker) must not be broken! During the show, my waitress also gave me a backrub in between serving other customers. I deemed her worthy of the coveted lady drink in recognition of her efforts. In fact, I bought her three over the course of the evening.
The Aftermath gathering was at The Green Room. My ex, Marissa, is a waitress there, and she had saved me my favorite seat. That warranted a lady drink, right? And then the woman who normally handles the pool table, which was out of service during the Aftermath event, laughed at all of the jokes I told (they were all new to her). She earned a lady drink reward as well. Later, I was approached by this sweet little thing who walked up to me and introduced herself. I could barely understand her and wasn’t interested in her company, so I politely sent her away. When she joined my female Hash friend (What’s Up Doc) at her table, I was curious, so I went over to say hello. Turns out the sweet young thing is her 19-year-old niece. Yikes! Of course, I bought them both a drink but told the cutie she could stay with her Auntie.
So, did I violate my moratorium on lady drink purchases? I declare my innocence. I was not buying company or engaging in the “she really likes me” fantasies last night. I was just being polite and rewarding good behavior. There’s a difference.
My winnings for the night:
Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me next week!
The other big event yesterday was the group hike. I mentioned in another post that it had been quite a while since our last venture up to the Kalaklan ridge. So, we hiked a trail we hadn’t down since last November. There is no easy way to the top, but our path wasn’t as crazy as the notorious “Motherfucker” and “Stairway to Heaven” trails. Maybe we should henceforth call it “Better Than Those Others.” Our up took us to the Great Wall of Barretto; then, we had a leisurely stroll along the ridgeline before heading back down to our little town.
The eye in the sky documenting our path.Our gathering place next to the Savers appliance store.A small but hardy group of hikers yesterday.Hillside livingUp we goThat bridge ain’t gonna cross itself!Local hillbilliesLooking back down at Barretto beachThings were definitely on the up and upSteep it was in places. My tired old legs and lungs were feeling it.Trudging on to our target destination.Goal achievedOn the Great Wall of BarrettoThe view from here.A bay viewA little R&R on the ridgeI’m a swinger, doncha know?Walkin’ the ridgeline.A shy childAnd a ‘cock farmLocked out!We’ll climb over your silly little fence!On the road againTime to head on down. Look out for that barbed wire!Easter mountain is a long way away.It was a gradual descent–that’s the best kind!Top to bottomThe last of the downsBack on the mean streets of Barretto…Banaba street, to be precise.And Dick is there to greet us upon arrival at his place.
A very nice day on trail.
This morning brought the news that a local legend, Johnnie Tango, died after suffering a heart attack. Congratulations on a life well-lived, and may you always Rest in Peace.
This reminds me of something Johnnie would have said.
A pretty mundane Thursday, but then, a day without drama is a good thing.
I treated myself to breakfast on the beach at Harley’s.The Swedish pancakes with a side of bacon and some black coffee hit the spot.
After eating, I took a walk to the end of Baloy road, then back on the beach.
Another beautiful morning here in paradise.
Came back home and napped, then wrote TWO blog posts to satiate the hunger of my faithful readers.
I’d mentioned thinking it was time to change my routines where I’d rely less on unreliable bargirls for my entertainment. One idea is to start playing darts again, so yesterday, I took my arrows with me when I went into town for my daily dose of beer. I picked Johansson’s as my practice venue because they have nice boards, very few customers, and no bargirl distractions.
The view from my barstool.Johansson’s dining areaThe pool table and one of two dart boards.
It had been months since I’d touched my darts, and it showed. My first few throws were off the board. Yeah, I don’t recall being that bad, even as a rookie. The longer I threw, the better my accuracy became, but it was still nowhere near the level I need to achieve to be competitive.
In one hour of practice, I threw one 6-mark, two 5-marks, and a 3-bulls shot.
Two triple 20s.Five 17sFive 16sAnd three bullseyes
My big concern is that the lack of consistency is compounded by the fact that my darts are frequently “leaners” (not going into the board straight) which can result in fallouts and blocked shots. Anyway, it was only day one of practice; we’ll see how it goes on Saturday.
Where to next? I’m taking a break from several of my usual haunts for now (Snackbar, Cheap Charlies, It Doesn’t Matter, and Blue Butterfly), leaving me twenty-something venues to choose from. Well, I needed some exercise (that was my excuse), so I hoofed it across town and paid an off-schedule visit to Hideaway Bar. What can I say? I’m comfortable there.
A little excitement on the highway out front. I’ve never seen less skilled drivers than Filipinos. Sorry, but that’s a fact. I get road rage in the passenger seat just watching the stupidity of your average driver here.
When it was time to move on, I made my way to BarCelona for a couple more beers. Service was marginally better, and I do enjoy the atmosphere that comes with sitting outdoors on the rooftop.
And then, as I made my way home, I decided to live dangerously, and I popped into Sloppy Joe’s, the scene of the robbery I posted about yesterday. No one tried to steal my necklace (probably because I wasn’t wearing one). I did wind up buying a lady drink. My waitress there remembered me from the pre-scamdemic days when she worked at Man Cave. Don’t worry; I have no interest in engaging in the bargirl game and the chicanery associated with it; this was just a “nice to see you again” drink. In fact, I left before she finished drinking it.
I participated in a very nice hike today that I’ll post about tomorrow, but we did finish at Dynamite Dick’s where Dick updated us on the stabbing incident I mentioned in yesterday’s post. So it seems the culprit, ironically named Cutter, is a guy from Seattle in his mid-30s. Dick wasn’t there at the time of the incident, but he told us Cutter’s victim (the wife) is still in the hospital recovering from her wounds. The actions of Cutter were entirely out of character and resulted from some kind of mental breakdown, which may or may not have been fueled by drugs (meth is pretty popular with some folks here).
The wife declined to press charges against her husband, so police released him to the custody of immigration officials who transported Cutter to Manila for deportation. Apparently, Cutter had another breakdown, and then authorities gave him a shot of something to calm him down. Cutter then went into cardiac arrest and died. So, I guess that’s the end of the story.
This evening I’ll be attending the SOB at Hot Zone. And that’s where things stand as of now.
That’s a familiar face about town, Jim (aka Jimbo or Daddy Jim)
I only had a nodding acquaintance with Jim. I’d frequently see him at Sit-n-Bull and out in the bars. I first met him when he was a regular at Alley Cats, where he was known to be a big spender. My ex, Marissa, was one of his favorites there. The last time I saw him was three weeks ago in Hot Zone, where he was sharing drinks with his favorite girl. As much as Jim enjoyed drinking with the bargirls, I’m told he never took any of them home with him. Kinda like me in that regard.
Jim hung himself yesterday morning. It came as a big surprise to the folks who knew him well because he always appeared to be enjoying himself. He was 78 years old. Lately, his health seems to have been deteriorating, one of his legs was swollen, and he was using a cane. I’m speculating that once it became evident that he would no longer be able to go out and do the things he loved doing, like buying drinks for the ladies, he chose to end his life. I can actually respect that. I would not want to continue living if I were confined to my house. Although perhaps I’ll feel differently if and when that day comes.
The folks who knew Jim were devasted at his passing as he was evidently a good and generous man. Rest in Peace, Jimbo. Your suffering is over now.
And then there was this guy yesterday afternoon.
I don’t recognize him at all, but I saw the video this still was taken from. He got down on his knees in the middle of the freakin’ National Highway and apparently had some kind of mental breakdown. Somehow he managed to avoid being run over, which is a minor miracle in itself. After a few minutes, he got up and entered Dynamite Dick’s, the small bar directly in front of where he put on his crazy show. Once inside, he apparently blacked out. Someone called his wife, who used to be a waitress at Dick’s. When she woke him, he stood up and proceeded to stab her multiple times. I understand she survived that attack, and her husband was taken into custody by the police. Witnesses say the culprit wasn’t drunk, just out of his mind. Scary shit.
And in the wee hours of the morning, there was some excitement at Sloppy Joe’s
A couple of guys on a motorbike pulled up, and one of them ripped a necklace off one of the bar patrons. Someone grabbed the robber in a chokehold, and another customer subdued the one on the bike. The police were summoned, and when the culprits were searched, one of them was carrying a loaded pistol. That all could have gone so wrong. I walk past Sloppy Joe’s frequently and occasionally stop in for a beer. But I’m never out at two in the morning when the druggies are searching for victims to fund their habit.
And then there is the story about my friend Bhel’s son, James.
Two days ago, he woke up with a swollen body and running a fever. Bhel went to see my doctor here in Barretto, and she said he needed to be taken to the hospital immediately. So, Bhel took him to one of the private hospitals in Olongapo City, YMMV, or something like that. She had to wait a couple of hours to be seen. By the time a doctor there looked at him and scheduled some tests, it was too late to have the results reviewed. James was exhausted so mom took him home.
Yesterday morning, she was back, and the doctor said that based on the test results (and by now, James was having difficulty breathing), he needed to be admitted to a hospital right away. He suggested Bhel take him to Gordon, the public hospital. When she gets to Gordon, they tell her no ward space or private rooms are available, to try again tomorrow. She rightfully called bullshit and went back to YMMV. YMMV told her that her PhilHealth insurance (the national health plan in the PI) wasn’t accepted there. A hospital stay was 2100 pesos per day, plus doctor and medicine charges. Further, she would need to pay 6000 pesos in advance to have James admitted. I wired her the money.
Well, when the original doctor found out James had been admitted, he was pissed because YMMV was not equipped with the respiratory machines James required. He suggested she take him to Baypointe hospital. But when they got there, Baypointe turned out to be even more expensive, and she needed a total of 12000 pesos for admission. Well, I’m not going to let her son die over a couple of hundred bucks, so I wired more money. And then get this–Baypointe declined to admit him because he had a fever and a cough! WTF! Where are sick people supposed to go if not the hospital? And James had been specifically referred there by a doctor of medicine. So, Bhel was out of options and went back to YMMV. There it was suggested she call an ambulance from Barretto (which made no sense to me) and have him transported to the Gordon emergency room. So, that’s what they did, and Bhel says when they arrived, one of the nurses remembered James from a previous hospitalization (he has heart problems, too) and had taken a liking to him. And lo and behold, he secured a private room, and James was finally admitted twelve hours after the ordeal began.
It is very scary to think about getting seriously ill in this country. All these medical professionals are willing to sacrifice the life of a young boy over non-sensical protocols. I hope James is going to be okay now, but unless and until they find out what is wrong, he is not out of danger.
In more pleasant news, the feeding at Hideaway was a success last night.
Fried chicken, brownies, and lady drinks for Joy.
After Hideaway, I gave Mugshots a try. No bargirls there, but I did flirt with a cute bartender named Odessa. No lady drinks for her (I’m not sure they are even an option), though. I’ll have to add this bar to my rotation for sure.
I finished my night at Wet Spot, where I had a nice chat with owner Daddy Dave.