As the A380-500 touched down at what I still like to call Clark I was a bit concerned at how long it was going to take to process over 500 passengers but the newly installed thumb-print machines were far quicker than the old system. Passport in left hand and wave it in front of the barcode reader as you shove your right thumb into the slot and bingo, you’re through. Thanks to the generosity of the United States of the Americas & Europe, the equipment was donated as part of the on-going war against terrorists.
I was feeling great, the first leg of the flight I’d spent a couple of hours in the bar then did 30 mins on the running track, had a 30 min massage then relaxed in my sky-seat watching movies. On the second leg I’d gone straight to my bunk and slept for 8 hours so now I was raring to go.
I’m only carrying hand luggage so it’s straight out of the door to find the Holiday Inn Motown shuttle. I can’t help wondering if they remembered to put it on the charger this time, I don’t want to have to walk the last 500m like last trip. Call me a ‘luddite’ but I actually miss the diesel jeepneys, at least you could hear them coming! Same with the trikes and now they are electric there is even less room inside!
With a soft whine we’re off, 5 minutes later we are swishing past the huge mall at the old checkpoint and into Tarzan Latazin Avenue, I still think of it as Fields Avenue but that’s progress. In just 7 minutes we are at the terminus by the pedestrian zone and now the fun starts. I scan the sea of jostling bearer-boys for my pre-booked ACTA approved bearer to carry my luggage to the hotel. I’d much rather carry it myself but I suppose they had to find employment for all those redundant trike drivers. At least the P10,000 charge is fixed and it includes the P2,000 ‘toll’ for passing along Tarzan Latazin Avenue.
I check-in and go through the triple S routine. At least I’m on the 20th floor of the Holiday Inn Motown and have a nice view looking down upon “A Sanitised Street” oppps sorry, better use the correct new name Susan Pineda Street. From this height it’s just colourful neon, you don’t really notice that the old BJ bars have been replaced with Liposuction Clinics, Western Union offices, Pawn Shops etc.
Holiday Inn Motown
Phone: (63) (45) CV4-0370-RFG
Fax: (63) (45) freq 15 GHz at Red Spectrum
Web Site: http://www.acbars.com/motown
|All Rooms are 1250 Pesos with the following extras:
All room do come with free breakfast served between 6:00 am and 6:45 am in the main dining hall. Subject to service tax.
Clean & fresh I head out for a little ‘Virtual Bar Hopping’.
First stop is Voodoo, the line-up is stunning but somehow watching girls dance in bikinis, even when projected in 3D, is not the same. You gotta hand it to Mo, when the ban on live dancing was imposed he had 40 girls based in a studio in Hong Kong within a week. Even the satellite feed rarely goes down for more than 10 minutes. After a couple of beers I head off to Roadhouse. Another couple of beers and I’m starting to feel lusty so I call the Mamasan over. She taps my 3G cell number into her WiFi terminal and I watch the video bios of the available Tour Guides on my handset. I eventually settle on No 37 and hit the button for a 3 minute ‘interview’. At P2,500 I can’t help thinking the old Lady Drink system was better but since girls were banished from bars I don’t suppose there is any alternative. We go through the usual “What your name? Where you flom?” routine and she gives me a quick flash of her susus and promises “I love you long time” so I hit the accept button. I hear the printer spitting out the 4 page ‘temporary employment contract’ (in triplicate) as Mamasan counts the P100,000 ‘Employment Commission’ and the newly introduced 20% MST (Municipal Sales Tax). I don’t suppose I should complain as I got P5,000 to the $ when I changed some money.
I fill in the details on the contract, assert I’m just hiring a companion for ‘bar hopping’, that I’ve not been offered any sexual services and have no expectation of same. Paperwork completed, I head out to the PUD (Pick-up Depot) to collect No 37. Of course once I collect her I have to pay her P2,000 ‘toll’ for passing along Tarzan Latazin Avenue.
With my bride-de-jour on my arm we head down to the Mall for a snack and shopping. Since the ban on girls in bars the ‘bar-hopping’ part of the contract is a bit of a joke as all one can do now before heading to the room is eat and shop. Of course honey ko is aware of this and makes the most of it, a couple of pairs of jeans and a load for her phone before we get to discuss her tip for coming back to my room. We settle on P150,000 and head off to my room where I entertain her with stories of the good old days in Angeles when girls danced in bars and you bought them drinks to sit on your lap. She was wide-eyed at the stories of shower shows. In fact as a ‘warm-up’ I persuaded her to dance in the shower LOL. She thought that great fun and really got into the swing of it, masarap!
Morning arrives all too soon and after a ‘bonus round’ #37 dresses and reminds me about “the tip”. By now I’m short of cash but no problem with these latest 3Gs, we just point them at each other and I punch in my pin and in the blink of an eye P200,000 goes into her credit store. She smiles as she checks the balance, then punches a couple of keys and sends back her details so I can call her direct next time. That extra P50,000 persuaded her to risk the wrath of her papasan. He he he, anything Ollie Thai can do, I can do!
I head down to the ground floor for breakfast and have a chuckle as I spot #37 and a ‘bearer boy’ holding their 3Gs – he is obviously ‘collecting’ some of her credit before she hits the shopping mall, some things don’t change LOL
A few familiar faces are sat at the big table, Bee still has an old fashioned computer and has brought it in to show the youngsters how we used to keep in touch with Emails and PM’s. He’s even got some archive of the flame wars from G2Phil, that is a laugh. Actually, the old computer is a ‘blind’ to hide the fact that we are meeting up for one of his trips. You can’t be too careful these days, the ACTA ‘thought police’ are everywhere and would take a very dim view of anyone taking Angeles visitors to Manila, particularly to the ‘underground bars’ around NAIA where they have real women ‘dancing’. Bee has an excellent nose for sleaze, he can sniff out an exposed puki at 1000 yards. His other big advantage is that his face at the spy hole will guarantee we’ll be admitted! Bee whispers his instructions, lots of cash as 3G credit transfers are traceable, move off in groups of 2 or 3 and rendezvous by the old Domestic Terminal. I slip off with a couple of newbies and we walk to the train terminal at Gloria Highway. I amuse the newbies with tales of driving up & down the old highway during the 20 minute ride to Manila.
I stop off at a money changer and flash the 3G and grab a pile of pesos. Bloody cow won’t give me anything larger than a P5,000 note so I stagger into the first bar with a bulge in both pockets, Mamasan takes one look at me and sends two girls to sit with me. The site of real flesh produces a third bulge and this one is throbbing.
I’m having the time of my life, it’s dark, hot and stuffy, the music is pounding, the girls are more than friendly, what more can a guy ask for. Beats sitting around the shopping mall or casinos in Angeles all day.
I lose track of the bars we visit, I did notice our numbers depleting as guys slipped off, presumably to a ‘Love Hotel’. Thank goodness the Mayor of Manila is a bit more relaxed.
Final port of call was Wet Sinners where they have a shower show. That did it for me, the sight of real flesh and soap bubbles tripped me over the edge and I summoned the mamasan. “You want barfine?” she whispers, those long forgotten words almost made me cum in my pants . . . . Oo I reply, summoning the waitress to fetch mummy a drink (she deserved it for risking her liberty by using such forbidden words). Clutching my busty prize, I bid farewell to Bee and head out to the Tokyo No-tell Motel, slightly more expensive than most at P150,000 for 4 hours but it has a ‘Bronco Bed’ and as I’m getting rather old I appreciate having a bit of mechanical help with my thrusting LOL. My companion looks a bit glum when she realizes where we’re going but soon cheers up when I promise not to use more than ‘speed 2′ LOL
Three hours later I head back to the train with no bulges in any pocket and ‘miss busty’ heads off in the other direction with a bulge in the back pocket of her jeans.
Back in Angeles, I take a short nap, stuffing earplugs in to kill the constant noise of aircraft from Clark. Despite triple-glazing, the rumble still gets through, I almost yearn for the days when it was just trikes disturbing the peace. I set my alarm for 9pm as I’m meeting up with the legendary Dirty Dave tonight for a few drinks.
I stand on the front steps of Holiday Inn Motown watching the crowds of pedestrians wandering aimlessly about from one ‘virtual bar’ to another. To while away the time waiting for Dave I watch the Laser Signs above the bars to see if I can spot a change of name or even more common, a change of manager LOL. Slightly disappointing tonight, nobody is playing ‘musical bars’.
I see a commotion amongst the pedestrians and out of their midst emerges Dave in his hydrogen-powered bath chair, one hand steering, the other waving his stick to clear his path. Dave doesn’t change, having been given the “Freedom of Angeles” for his life-long devotion to procreation, he took the freedom bit to include his powered bath-chair despite it being a pedestrian zone. Nobody dare chastise the old chap for this ‘infringement’, after all he is the father of half the population LOL.
We meet up and head off down to Nero’s Follies and take the lift up to the Executive Club on the 40th floor. I’m not a great lover of Japanese owned clubs but they do at least have waitresses! Of course they are wrapped from head to toe in clothing but a bit of discrete fumbling can ascertain if they have lumps and bumps in the right places. Despite extreme age, Dave’s memory is still first rate and he knows all the more ‘accommodating’ waitresses so we settle in the darkest corner, Dave having given the appropriate surveillance camera a judicious whack with his stick on the way past. It’ll take the SWAT team (Special Watch Against Titilation) at least 2 hours to turn up to fix it by which time we’ll be gone.
Dave doesn’t waste time and before the first G & T is finished he’s loosened the clothing on a lovely and has persuaded her to sit on his lap. I’m watching the ‘virtual dancers’ but become aware of some panting and a strange whirring noise. I look around to find Dave with a big grin on his face as his seat bobs up and down . . . hmmmmm the old bugger has a ‘Bronco Seat’ in his chair! You can’t take him anywhere LOL.
The waitress eventually climbs off more than satisfied and disappears to ‘adjust her dress’. We settle the bill and head off. By the time we’ve reached the pedestrian zone the bath chair has lurched to a halt! Bugger, out of fuel, as it appears the ‘bronco seat’ is a big consumer of energy! Thus Dave has suffered a ‘brown-out’ LOL
Nothing for it but to push the damn thing so off we go to the Phoenix Club on Commissioner Tan Street, thankfully slightly downhill and not too far! Again Dave swipes the appropriate camera and we order our drinks. Then Dave produces a device like a starting handle and ‘mentions’ that it is his “bronco seat manual power” facility! It takes a minute for the implications to sink in. I realize that he got his leg-over only 30 minutes earlier so this time would likely take twice as long . . . . . Hmmmmm I’m very fond of the old bugger but there is a limit! I limit my assistance to winding him up to the top of thrust position and suggest he finds an athletic waitress!
We finish our night at Tom Cats where fortunately the cameras are out of reach so Dave has to behave himself (sort off). The Tom Cats mamasan has a very extensive collection on her database so I find a suitable companion and having pushed Dave out to meet his ‘recovery team’ of nubile maids, I head off to the PUD (Pick-up Depot) for my bride-de-jour.
Angeles has always been ‘hit and miss’ but these days it’s more ‘miss’ than ever. Despite having gone through the usual ‘interview’ process, by the time we get to my room ‘Josie 668′ is not exactly a bundle of laughs. She looked keen enough during the 5 minute ‘interview’ but I find it hard to judge body language on a 4″ LCD. Now she’s demanding her tip in advance which is ringing alarm bells. I suppose I should have coughed up for a 3rd 3 minute slot but at P2,500 a time it’s worse than the ‘Private Chat’ we used to enjoy in the good old days of internet chat rooms.
We’ve been in the room exactly an hour and haven’t got down to anything exciting when her 3G warbles . . . . . “It’s my Mother . . she sick” she says, showing me the screen. I recognize the face instantly as the same ‘mother’ of 4 or 5 other girls who had been reported as ‘runners’ on this months issue of CBTA (Come Back To Angeles) newsletter. Bee was right, it’s the same old crone saying exactly the same thing. The girls must have a place where they download the file & send it to themselves at a pre-arranged time LOL
I decide to cut my losses and send her on her way. Of course I have to give her the P2,000 ‘toll’ for passing along Tarzan Latazin Avenue and P20,000 for a trike home as it’s in the ‘temporary employment contract’ (in triplicate) Grrrrrrrrrrr.
I’m thankful that I kept up my subscription to CBTA newsletter which Bee started when the old websites like G2P were shut down by the Mayor. Too many girls were reading it and the inevitable happened, word got to the wrong people! At least with CBTA you have to apply in person to get onto the mailing list. Even with his failing eyesight, old Bee can tell the difference between a man and a woman and more importantly, a ‘stooge’ from a ‘poringer’ LOL This new ‘get out early’ scam was reported in the latest issue complete with a copy of the movie, well done Bee!
It’s 2am and I can’t be bothered to go out again then I remember No 37 from the previous night – worth a try so I scroll down to her icon and hit the button. The screen bursts into life with a sleepy face, “hello again” I say and she holds her phone at arms length to focus on my face not realizing that I can now see she’s naked and in bed. “Oh I think you forget me, see how you are” she says. As she puts the phone back to her ear I get a nice view of the naked form of her flat-mate, still fast asleep. Hmmmmmm masarap . . . . I try to prolong the conversation as long as I can as I’m enjoying the view . . . “I’ve just got back from Manila” I say “and I miss you”, as she is digesting this gem of bola bola her flat mate rolls over revealing a kalbo kiki (don’t ya just love technology?) “Why you not call me earlier” she asks, “you didn’t reply” I say, then follow up with “have you got another man there with you?” and more by instinct than anything else she carefully pans her phone along the sleeping form next to her saying “see how you are – this is my flat-mate”. I can’t help but let an appreciative “wow” escape my lips. I think she realizes I’m enjoying the view so quickly turns so all I can see is the blank wall, bugger! “I come na” she says and hits the kill before I can argue.
I dress and head out to the Pick Up Depot to meet her as she can’t get into the “zone” without her copy of a ‘temporary employment contract’ (in triplicate). Now the trick with a ‘sneak-out’ is to go to the PUD and tell the guard that you lost the document (best done in a slurred voice) and offer him the 20% MST (Municipal Sales Tax) ‘again’. This invariably gets you a blank set which you quickly scribble “Mr Joe Soap & Mrs Minnie Mouse” upon and that’s it!
Now you, dear reader and I, both know that the Mayor never gets his P20,000 MST, that is a ‘reward’ to the guard for having the foresight to have some spare forms for just such an emergency LOL
#37 arrives and we head back to the room for another nice night. As I drift off to sleep I decide to head out to the provinces the next day as I’ve had enough of the ‘New Improved Angeles’, far better to find some out of the way small town where girls still strut their stuff without the attention of the grasping ‘thought police’.
Another hefty credit transfer between 3Gs in the morning and I head out to ““AAAAction Travel”” (their spelling, not mine – it’s to differentiate them from all the other Action Travel companies in town). An hour later I’m checking out and on my way to Dumagette where I’m assured, there are bars with dancing girls! It’s going to be a slow trip, 30 minutes to the harbour in Manila but then a ‘sailing ferry’ as they can’t afford fuel oil anymore. I’m told anything between 2 days and 7 days depending on the wind! I’ll try and post a report in time for the next issue of CBTA!
Since the currency crisis way back in 2005 the PI government has been unable to buy much fuel oil on the world market. Suppliers insist (wisely) on cash up front and there is not much of that around LOL. The imposition of heavy additional taxes on fuel by Gloria didn’t impress the Bankers much, they considered it a bit of a cheek to collect tax on something that the government hadn’t paid for themselves! Thus, the transport system has had to become innovative and ‘sailing ferries’ are the result.
The United States of America & Europe ‘protection force’ vehicles have no problem as they import their own. However, after the ‘Imbestigator Expose’ 6 months after they arrived showing troops wandering into bars carrying gallon cans of petrol and walking out with a LBFM, all fuel is very strictly monitored. Then when General Jane Gruppenhag took command not only were all male troops restricted to base except when on active duty but they were even banned from spending their leave in the RP. Poor chaps get a stark choice, home or Iran, a choice of white feminazi or women who only reveal their eyes and are guarded more fiercely than Fort Knox.
My fare to Dumagette was quite reasonable at P150,000 but my luxury cabin is P50,000 a night so if the journey takes 2 days it’s P250,000 but if it takes 6 days then it’s a whopping P450,000! I’m traveling light, just a medium sized back-pack but that doesn’t stop the army of porters trying to rip it off my back to carry it for me. I get on board and find my cabin, not exactly to cruise ship standards but not bad. A tip here, always try for a cabin forward of the main mast as these are the quietest. Any further aft then you will be woken many times a night by the small army of deckhands stamping their feet and ‘singing’ sea-shanties as they haul on ropes to trim sail! You think the Angeles Kariokes are dire, wait until you hear these guys!
In light winds they can be at it all night!
Now some of you dear readers may be wondering why I’m risking life & limb on such a precarious journey and ‘wasting’ valuable boinking time. The truth is, I’m not as these ferries are the cheapest mode of transport, particularly for ‘steerage’ passengers. Thus you can always be sure of anything from 20 to 100 nubile wenches returning home from school, work or whatever. I have a cabin with a mattress and a shower and although fresh water is limited to 5 gallons a day, salt water is unlimited! So, the pussy gets the salt water, I get the fresh LOL
(Note: salt water soap is available at all good chandlers)
Now whilst there is an abundance of girls it is not quite the ‘heaven’ you might think because if you think the Angeles bush telegraph is fast, well the ferry telegraph is greased lightning LOL. So the trick is to choose very wisely first time, even better find a pair. Remember, before the mooring warps have even been unhitched, all the girls in steerage will be aware that there is a ‘porringer’ in a cabin with no honey ko! Thus no need to rush things or be too eager, after all they are not going anywhere for the next few days!
I get myself comfortable in my cabin and take a nap. I want to stay out of sight for 3 to 4 hours to ‘build up the tension’ as it were. The steerage passengers will now be starting to realize how hard their wooden benches are which should encourage them to ‘try harder’ LOL
I dress smartly and wander along to the galley to see ‘whats cooking’, no surprises here, it’s a choice of Chicken & Rice or . . . Rice & Chicken. At least it’s hot and when I get sick of it I’ve a stock of ‘MREs’. These are the new E.U. Army issue, freeze dried so very compact and light. You just unzip the top of the bag, add some water, zip it up again, give it a good shake then pull the tab and 30 secs later a nice hot meal!
As I turn from the serving hatch I see groups of girls smiling at me and squeezing up to make room for me at their tables, hmmm so hard to choose but two very cute girls squeezed in by the door win and I wander over and sit down. The gods are smiling upon me today, they are both cute, very friendly and extremely determined to hold onto their ‘catch’. What a contrast to the ‘virtual bars’.
We chat for a long time, Maricel & Jane are on their way home to see the family and not exactly impressed with the new ‘eco-friendly’ transport. Since the fuel shortage took hold, domestic air-fares had gone through the roof, way, way beyond the means of the natives. The girls keep dropping heavy hints that they would like to see my cabin, I resist as long as I can but I’m ready for some fun . . . . it must be the sea air. We head off , collecting some cans of SMG on the way.
Life is good and it gets even better later that evening once the girls discover just how comfortable the cabin is, no way are they going to give me any excuse to move them out LOL