As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, we underwent a scheduled brownout yesterday, which meant no electricity from 8 until 5. I filled a couple of those hours with an 8K hike.
My hike ended at Sit-n-Bull, and I had an early air-conditioned lunch.
I went home and took care of some business (blogging, etc.), but by one o’clock, I faced a dilemma. Without electricity, my only means of escape was my laptop. And it was there that I came upon a post on Facebook announcing the soft opening of the Arizona floating bar at noon. I pride myself on waiting for beer o’clock (around 4 p.m.) to arrive before I begin imbibing. But faced with the prospect of sitting in the hot and uncomfortable house for three hours with nothing to do (the laptop battery was almost out of juice), I was powerless to resist the urge to escape to the breezy waters of Subic Bay.
The Arizona Resort is at the far end of Barretto (Hideaway Bar is next door) but that’s no further away than the Kokomo’s floating bar on Baloy. The power outage was also impacting Baloy, so that wasn’t an option anyway.
So, I arrived on the beach at 1:30, but it seemed like my transport options to the floater were limited.
I was the first customer of the day when I boarded and was besieged with offers for a massage, but I declined them all. I ordered up my first Zero of the day and soaked up the views and ambiance that come with rocking on the water. And this floater did have a more pronounced movement than the Kokomo’s does. Maybe the water is deeper here.
I define big spenders as guys who table several girls and purchase multiple double lady drinks (bottles at 300 pesos each) for the girls. I’m sure the girls appreciate it, and if the guys are having fun that way, rock on! I, on the other hand, was buying single lady drinks for my waitress, but she did get several during my first couple of hours on board. And then something weird happened; at least, it was something I hadn’t previously experienced. I guess I wasn’t quick enough to refill her glass (I usually buy a lady drink when I order another beer), so she picked up her empty, wiped off the bar, and walked away without a word, not even a nice to meet you or a thank you. I smiled to myself later as I watched her flit around the big spender’s tables, scoring a drink for herself when they bought another round. It’s impressive how good she is at her job. But of course, I’ll never buy her another drink, not that she cares.
I had asked my caregiver to message Dr. Jo to tell her of my upcoming surgery and to ask if she had any advice. Dr. Jo responded:
Here are our words of advice: 1. Stay away from the bars for now; there’s a virus going around, safer not to catch it. 2. Limit alcohol intake 3. Eat healthy 4. Maybe don’t hike or do anything strenuous 5. Pray, meditate, and think positive
Good luck! You’ll feel better after the procedure….looking forward to it
So, in other words, I’m going to die. I ordered up another beer and watched the sun go down.
Swan had been busy taking care of business at her sister’s school in Subic, but she messaged me around 4:30 and I invited her to join me on the floater.
But the fun wasn’t over yet. I figured putting some grub in my belly was an appropriate next step, and with the sun down and darkness surrounding us, it was a good time to abandon ship. John’s place was nearby by, so off we went.
I was pleasantly surprised when Swan suggested Wet Spot for the nightcap venue. It turns out that during our previous visit, Aine had told Swan she wasn’t feeling well, and Swan wanted to deliver some medicine to her. A glass of wine for Swan, two lady drinks, and a couple of beers later, we called it a night.
I was in bed before nine again but woke up at midnight. “Here we go again” I thought, but thankfully, I was able to fall asleep a short time later and finished with seven hours on the night.
A nice group hike in Subic town this morning, and the SOB is on tap for later this evening. Might as well live as if there is no tomorrow, right? I’ll find out soon enough!
so she picked up her empty, wiped off the bar, and walked away without a word, not even a nice to meet you or a thank you.
Well, these are rent-a-friend types, after all. Business is business, even when it masquerades as “companionship.” I still don’t get the whole “cooperative self-delusion” aspect of the bargirl thing since it’s all bullshit as far as I can see, and both sides know it but engage in the delusion anyway. And please, none of that “charity” argument. Your money isn’t helping these girls. None of them is ratcheting upwards in society as far as I can tell (maybe Mary if she works hard and tries her damnedest to escape circumstances). It’s all just a self-perpetuating slog through slime.
On a happier note:
And I awoke to another beautiful morning in the neighborhood.
I assume that’s Easter Mountain in the distance. Gorgeous shot.
So this operation is definitely happening, eh? Well, you’ll come out of it a fraction of an ounce lighter. It’d be awesome if they snipped out your polyps, put them in little, formaldehyde-filled bottles, and gave them back to you, but I doubt that’s going to happen. If you’re feeling up to posting on Sunday, I hope to read the blow-by-blow then. Good Luck with Operation Nares.
@Kevin, I wouldn’t say that buying lady drinks is charity, more akin to tips or commissions. Think of them as the equivalent of anybody who sells XXX (appliances, insurance, etc.) on commission. For a GRO, that is their job description. Get customers to buy drinks, get a commission.
If John (or you or I) have a choice between two “normal” restaurant and the food is equal between the two, but in one restaurant, the serving staff is surly and in the other, they are friendly and pleasant. Which one will get our business? There is an expectation when going into a sit down restaurant – not only on the food quality but also a minimum level of service.
Same with a bar that has GRO’s. Yeah, everybody realizes it is a game, but just like expecting a waitress in a “normal” restaurant to provide a certain level of service, there is an expectation of the GRO’s. The type of service (and job description) is different, but that is known to both the customer and server beforehand.
With the situation above, the GRO felt she could get a better “commission” from the other group rather than from John. Maybe a shortsighted view.
John – great pics. Especially like the last one. Looks like a painting.
I have to catch up. Had many days of the last three weeks not even knowing where I was. COVID related. Who bailed out Luckey.?
Brian, I think that’s a fair description of the GRO system and the give-and-take that occurs between the worker and the customer. I do sometimes think of it as charity, especially in those cases where I’m not interested in the company the girl provides but still feel some obligation to share my blessings. A three-dollar drink is certainly no big deal to me, but that commission can make a difference to a desperate girl.
The gal on the floater was more mercenary than I’m accustomed to, but it wasn’t like I had any interest in spending time with her–those drinks were, as you describe, more of a tip. I felt bad for her that she was missing out on the big money by taking care of me. Of course, she showed how much she appreciated my generosity by walking away. That’s fine; now that I know, I won’t be bothered again.
Of course, not all of the GRO/waitresses are like the one I encountered on the floater. I’ve met some nice girls doing a hard job, but their sweetness shows even when they are pretending to care.
Brian,
My comment was a response to John’s having explicitly used the “charity” argument in a recent comment. I didn’t respond at the time.
I’d submit that it’s not a question of charity—it’s a question of participating in a rigged and dirty system. To me, the expectation of competent, civil service at a “normal” restaurant is not at all the same thing as an expectation of human “companionship.” And that’s why it’s always strange to me to see John disappointed when the “service,” which was BS to begin with, doesn’t seem to live up to whatever his expectations are. To me, the GRO just walking away is simply a “mask off” moment showing that it’s always this way. Nobody actually cares about you no matter how much you pay. The moment the well of money dries up, it’s time to move on to the next vict— uh, customer. Like a bloodsucker. I don’t see normal servers in this light at all.
But maybe I’m just being a prude.
Kev, I think Brian’s comment lays out the way the interaction between customer and employee is supposed to work and usually does. I may have termed it “companionship” before, but I’m really just talking about some basic chit-chat while enjoying a beverage together. I get company, and she gets commission- a win-win! My only real issue with the gal on the floater was her rudeness. I’ve had girls I was drinking with tell me, “Oh, my regular just came in. Do you mind if I take care of him?” I always tell them, “No problem,” and I appreciate their honesty.
I do disagree with you about the money not helping these girls. Granted, it is not a ticket to escape the bar life, but those commissions buy food for the hungry kids at home. Many (not all) of these gals are good women doing the only work they can find to support their families. I respect that. I don’t think you are factoring in the extreme poverty that exists here in your assessment. Sometimes, a little bit makes a big difference.
Yes, that is Easter Mountain in the photo. That might be the best pic I’ve taken of my old friend.
As always, thanks for your support and encouragement. They can keep the polyps–I hope never to see them again (I’ve read they sometimes grow back). And you have once again contributed a new addition to my vocabulary. Nares the word!
Here’s hoping for that Sunday post!
Looks like you are O for 5 on your doctor’s advice. Kinda like Hunter Biden’s doctor, Dr Seuss, telling Hunter to stay away from the cocaine, hookers and tax evasion. Not gonna happen.
Should have doggy-paddled out to the floating bar. Buddy or Lucky can show you how. And if there happens to be a dog at the bar than those two are in luck.
Good luck on your upcoming surgery or should I say, “break a leg”. There is always a certain element of risk involved in any surgery but crossing the Govic Highway is riskier.
Peace Out!
Soju, Yep, once a rebel, always a rebel.
Yes, it is true about the highway. Danger is everywhere, and when your time comes, you gotta go.
I do disagree with you about the money not helping these girls. Granted, it is not a ticket to escape the bar life, but those commissions buy food for the hungry kids at home. Many (not all) of these gals are good women doing the only work they can find to support their families. I respect that. I don’t think you are factoring in the extreme poverty that exists here in your assessment. Sometimes, a little bit makes a big difference.
If you take the long view, short-term help doesn’t amount to anything more than the perpetuation of an already-vicious cycle. It’s bitterly funny, in a way, because whether you personally participate in that cycle makes no difference: the dynamic existed long before you arrived in the PI, and it’ll exist long after we’re all gone.
Are these, in fact, “good” women? Maybe on some level, they’re nice, but nice doesn’t mean good. They all seem to make extremely poor, stupid life-choices and can’t seem to make the connection between, say pregnancy without means and continued poverty. I think your ineradicable soft spot for these girls eternally clouds your judgment. See a cute face, toss a few coins. Pragmatically, I think you can probably find much better ways to spend your money. And since you have a girlfriend, that’s all the companionship (not in quotes this time) that you need.
Anyway, by this point on Saturday, I hope you’re polyp-free, so with your clearer nasal passages, you can now more loudly huff and puff at the comments I’m leaving.
Kev, I can’t adequately respond to this comment in my current condition (another almost sleepless night and my brain feeling like mush). I’m planning to devote a post to some of these issues you raise soon. So, I’m looking forward to a “Huffington” post. (See what I did there?)