I’m only here for dental work, I tell Brian, who is a legal representative for the recruiting company next door.
He wears a pony tail and is polite and verging on the shy.
‘Why don’t you travel?’ He asks.
Oh, too expensive. They charge and arm and leg at the tourist places.
‘This is a tourist place,’ he says.
I’m looking at the whores in glittering dresses showing way too much cleverage and leg.
I think you have a point, I say.
‘You are staying on the busiest tourist street in the Philippines,’ he says.
Why else would be there be so many foreign tourists? He asks.
Another good point.
I better get out Google Map and find out just what street I’m on staying on.
‘It’s Mabini street,’ he says, ‘google it, you’ll be surprised with what pops up.’
I’m learning every day.
Brian says we should go out for a drink one day.
He’s already proving a wealth of knowledge.
He’s seen through my cover.
‘You aren’t here to get dental treatment, are you?’
I’m here to fuck my brains out, I say. He’s too polite to ask such prying questions.
I’m feeling exposed.
I”m hanging off a tenuous thread.
When you are ready to take the plunge, I’ll be your guide.
That’s the pesos talking to me.
‘They always ease the way when hot chicks are concerned,’ said a 1000 peso note, and another piped up, ‘but you’ll be needing a few more of them to pull the hot chicks.’
The Philippines might be a third world shit hole, says Brian, ‘but boy do they charge first world rates.’
