How I became Steve Rogers (part 1)

     It seems that the locals have this little game they play called “Lets kidnap the businessman”. Nice huh? I am not sure how important I was to my company and if they would pay for me to even call home from my hotel, much less pay kidnappers to obtain yours truly. I am reminded of a little video a friend of mine made with all of his friends. An American redneck was kidnapped and only fed beans by his captors. His flatulence caused the not-so-terrorists to pass out, thus allowing Larry the Cable Guy to escape unscathed. We actually had Super Soakers as our weapons. I am sure it would have subtle differences. Yeah, subtle. 

     I decided I would take the chance and go anyway. I went to my doctors’ office and got about 6 shots to make sure I didn’t catch one of many sicknesses listed on the CDC website. I also was told by people that went before me i shouldn’t eat food outside of the hotel or “American” restaurants. Not a problem since, if you know me at all, I eat like a ten year old. SpaghettiO’s and Lucky Charms anyone?

     I arrived in the middle of the night after almost 25 hours on planes and waiting in airports. The Philippines are 13 hours behind us (maybe ahead of us, who really cares) so I would be working in the middle of the night, which would be a first for me. At the time I was newly married to #2, one month into wedded bliss, and worked 8 to 5 (or more like 8:45 to 4ish, but who was watching the clock? No one, which is why I was working an abbreviated schedule. Don’t judge me bitches!)

     So on my first day(night, whatever it was) I walked across to eat at the “mall” I use quotes because to call it a mall is an affront on every shopping center in the United States. I decided to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. I know, I know, but I remind you of the short attention span…I eat like a child. I walked in and there was no one there except me and the staff. I mean no one.

    I was seated and ordered pretty quickly. Not much of a surprise on the menu. Same as here I assume. As I was sitting there the hostess walked towards me but stopped a few feet away. She had an old school cordless phone with a metal antenna extended out of the top and was looking at me and talking at the same time. I felt a little violated by the way she was looking me over to be honest. I couldn’t imagine why she was checking me out other than I am 6 foot 2 inches and every other person there tops out at about 5 foot 4 inches. They all look at me like we look at Shaq. Freak City!

    She pulls the phone away from her ear and walks over to my table. “I am sorry to bother you sir, but you have a phone call” and she extends the giant cordless with the kickstand to me. “I don’t know a single person in your country except you so I am sure there must be a mistake”, I said. She said she was sorry again, very polite these Filipino people I must say, and walked away. My burger arrived and it seems they don’t get well done correct in the Philippines’ either, but the red onion was ice cold and the fries were fresh and hot. AWESOMENESS!!!!!

    As I began to eat the hostess with the mostest  (not you this time, Shanna) returned and stopped at the same spot as before. She had the phone in hand again and seemed to be having a discussion about me once again. She looked me up and down at least twice, head to toe, and in the back of my mind I was thinking that this must be some kind of sneaky ployfor her to meet me in the hopes I would marry her and take her back to the states with me. (nice run on sentence stupid!!) As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

     She lowers the phone, walking towards me telling me how sorry she is to bother me again. In my head I hear the bad 80’s porn anthem BROWNCHICKENBROWNCOW (come on…I cant be the only one that thinks that is funny as hell) and I am searching for the right way to let her down without causing her too much disappointment. She says the person on the phone described me exactly. “Short pants (I was wearing cargo shorts), blue shirt with the swoop (Nike t-shirt), trainers with no socks (sneakers)…It is for you”, and she extends the phone to me with a slightly awkward smile on her adorable face. I take the phone and say hello with that questionmark sound at the end of it and am surprised there is an actual person there.

    “Hey, its your best Filipino friend” the mystery man said, “How are you doing?”

    “I am fine but I don’t have any Filipino friends, so you must be mistaken. Who is this again? What was your name?”

     “Come on buddy, you know me.”

     I reply that I do not indeed know him and begin to hand the phone back to the awaiting hostess when he shouts “HOLDONHOLDONHOLDON….I saw you walk into the restaurant all by yourself. That is no way to enjoy dinner. I’ll send a nice girl, good time, no problem…” My jaw hit the floor. I was getting a call from a Pilipino pimp and he was going to send me a good girl. Imaging my luck, as that was exactly what I DIDN’T want.      

    I returned the phone to the hostess after telling Guido the killer pimp (shout out to Joey Pants from Risky Business. You were the man when you had hair, Yo!) I was not at all interested in having a fine dining experience with a lady of the night, much less an overpriced burger and fries. And how would I have explained it on my expense report? Entertainment meals? Community Relations? She was mortified (or maybe she was the one that called him and set me up for all I know, but this didn’t occur to me till just now, over 7 years later) and left me to my burger. I picked it up and as I was taking a bite I remembered how detailed the description and I panicked. I pivoted my head to the right as fast as I could to catch the “spotter” but saw nothing. Same result when I turned left. I then remembered the warning of businessmen being kidnapped and freaked out. Being a “husky” man and not sure if my company would pay for 2 meals, I took my food and left in a hurry.

     As I got to the escalator I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end and turned around just as a woman approached and came down to stand next to me. She was gorgeous and had a body that looked like it was sculpted out of granite. The dress she wore was made of a material I can only describe as like the top of an old school tube sock. It was almost terry cloth like but was sheer at the same time. Let’s just say I knew she was happy to see me, if you smelllalallala(insert pause here) what the Rock(insert another pause here…wait, wait. release) is cookin’. She said hello and held out her hand for me to shake. I didn’t take her hand and turned away in honest to god embarrassment. I could see everything this poor girl, and I am pretty sure she was still a girl, had to offer. I stepped down to the next lower stair and she followed.  

     I ran through a bunch of thoughts at warp speed. I was married and had been for almost 2 months. I have the 2 rule theory (don’t lie and don’t cheat), but was it cheating with “hired help” in a foreign country? What if she is the set-up person for the kidnapping crew? Hard for her to hide a weapon in that dress but never count out the resourcefulness of a woman with a goal in mind. What if it was part of some sting operation? Did I even know the word for innocent in any of the 120 to 175 languages spoken in the Philippines?  What if they don’t shave their arm pits over here, to say nothing of their junk? Oh yeah, and she was probably underage. That too.

     We got near the bottom level of the mall and the escalator stops just in front of the doors to the “mall”. Did I mention the armed military searching everyone except the Americans as they enter the mall? There is a no gun, no drug, no bs law over there and they do not play. It is not like the New York gun law that only the bad guys have guns. If you have a gun or drugs and are caught, you go straight to Hell. Well, maybe just jail but I cant imagine that there is much difference. The “lady” saw the MP’s and started to run/walk/skip up the escalator and was out of my life forever. I went straight to my hotel and thought that was the end of my “lady” stories. I was wrong.

    Shout out to MT at work. He was the main one that said I should blog my adventures on the wild side. What up MT? Nice to see you at work today brah!