Yesterday was a bit of a throwback to the good old days, such as they were. The Wednesday Walkers trek featured two climbs, including a journey up Black Rock. The last few times we’ve done that route, I’ve avoided Black Rock and taken the low road. It wasn’t easy, but I got it done this time.
When I got home, lunch was waiting.
Wednesday evening is becoming “me” day. Swan and I both do our own thing and then reconvene at home. My thing was a bit of a bar crawl through the Maze. I started at BarCelona, a bar I infrequently visit. It is one of the nicest places in town aesthetically, but it just has no vibe, or at least it doesn’t when I visit there. Still, it is on the third floor and has the open-air ambiance I enjoy.
After a couple of beers, I went back downstairs to Sloppy Joe’s. Jim stopped by and joined me for a couple more there. Then, I visited Alaska and enjoyed seeing the old crew again. Next up was the Green Room, and then I finished my night out at Wet Spot. It’s been a long time since I’ve done a bar crawl like that, and I was feeling no pain at the end of it.
One of my waitresses confided in me that things have been very slow in the bars recently, and because of that, some nights she comes home without having made any money. I asked what about your salary (my understanding is the girls get a small flat rate, like 250 pesos, plus tips and lady drink commissions)? She advised that if they don’t make their quota on lady drinks (something like fourteen a week), they lose the salary. So, no customers, no pay. That’s seems both unfair and borderline slavery-like to me. I confirmed the basic compensation package with a waitress in another bar. Damn. Let’s just say I was overly generous with the lady drinks last night to help fill the void. I don’t know the bar business and I understand the premise of drink quotas as a means of motivating the girls, but it still makes me sad somehow.
And then it was back home to end the night in my sweetheart’s arms. I’m still not sleeping well (my new elevated position isn’t very comfortable). At least I’m wheezing less and my blood oxygen is staying in the mid-90s range. Nothing to do but keep on trying.
Lots of Filipino flags were on display for Independence Day yesterday. I came across this explaining the symbolism of the flag’s content:
Today’s YouTube video is an interesting take from Filipina Pea on why Filipinas cheat. In most of my lifetime of failed relationships, I was the cheating culprit. The only time I know about a significant other cheating on me was with the love of my life, KaraLynne. As a young man in my mid-20s madly in love with a graduate student attending school in Idaho (we lived in Arizona), I was devasted to discover she was pregnant and getting an abortion. When I finally reached her by phone (this was before email and messenger apps) and told her I should have a say in what happens to our baby, she simply responded, “It’s not yours.” Ouch.
Let’s see what we’ve got in the humor department for today:
Not that that will stop me. More tomorrow.
It wasn’t easy, but I got it done this time.
Congrats on rockin’ the Rock!
Almost to the top
So this wasn’t that 45-degree ascent?
I don’t know the bar business[,] and I understand the premise of drink quotas as a means of motivating the girls, but it still makes me sad somehow.
That’s your inner liberal talking.
Nice to see some recognition of the USA’s role in liberating the nation.
That’s more generous than what happens in South Korea on August 15, or Liberation Day. Speeches are given, but no one thanks the States. Politicians just pretend that Koreans somehow just liberated themselves.
Hopefully, someone will come along soon and make America great again.
“I’m your dingleberry” is a satirical reference to the cowboy movie Tombstone, in which Doc Holliday (Val Kilmer, pre-cancer) says, “I’m your huckleberry.” I’ve heard that’s a good movie. I should watch and review it.
…she simply responded, “It’s not yours.” Ouch.
Tough life. Live and learn.
All in all, it looks to have been a good day. As for the guy getting electrocuted for his bad puns… good. Puns should have some wit behind them.
Well John, I can’t agree that it’s always good to have a woman at home by one’s side. Yesterday I heard a car pull up in the driveway and figured it must have been one of the AirBnB guests from the adjacent unit, maybe coming home from a night out on the tiles. I switched over to the app for the porch camera to verify who it was. In the grainy, low-light, feed I saw someone get out of a vehicle that then pulled away (a taxi I guess) and head towards the AirBnB unit. I was about to switch off the app when I saw the figure step across the lawn and head towards my unit. For a microsecond I considered maybe one of the AirBnB guests had lost their key and wanted me to contact the landlord. But as the camera refocused I could see it was my ex striding over. I could also see this wasn’t another one of her ‘special deliveries’, she was dragging luggage behind her.
She knocked at the door and I didn’t even pretend to be surprised as I opened it and stepped outside. She told me that she came back because she misses me, that she loves me, that I’m all she’s thought about. Pretty words I’ve heard so many times from her before. I didn’t beat around the bush and asked if she was carrying any booze. She readily produced a bottle of vodka which I happily supped while she continued to drone her hollow niceties. She made no mention about our last encounter and her attacking me with a rock. It was all sweet nothings about how we’re “meant to be” and how she’s been so terribly lonely without me.
On the off-chance this is all a psychotic ruse and she’s actually come to kill me, I discreetly messaged a few people, warning that she’s back and if I don’t check in soon it’s because she’s murdered my ass.
It is what it is, and the vodka cost nothing except what I expect to me my sanity in a few days. Let’s get it on!
Free vodka and pussy, you could do worse, Thompson! Maybe she’ll even clean up the mess she made when she left. And if you are lucky, she’ll make you a sandwich when she’s done. Count your blessings!
“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and — in spite of True Romance magazines — we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely — at least, not all the time — but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.”
Hunter S. Thompson
Kev, the ascent to Black Rock isn’t all that long or steep, certainly nothing like Easter Mountain.
In that case, liberal thinking must be like a broken clock…right twice a day.
Yeah, I recall that August 15 was the day the Japanese just walked out of Korea as an act of kindness. Or so it seemed.
I saw Tombstone way back when and enjoyed it, but like everything else in my muddled brain, it’s a faded memory. Would enjoy reliving the experience through one of your amazing reviews!
Pun for all, and all for pun!