I am now half way through my first half of my contract, and
I state it this way because the first of one’s contract is when you can be
fired at any moment no matter what for any reason.
“Hey, I see your nametag is slightly askew, FIRED!”
“Nice flip-flops in the mess, FIRED!”
“Not wearing Sleeves because you’re too fucking jacked from
working out, FIRED!”
“Blowjob from hot mother of two on vacation who looks kind
of like the mom from wedding crashers when you squint and are about to bust,
FIRED!”
Literally the smallest thing, no matter how miniscule can be
brought up as grounds for termination. This post however is not about that I
have no intention of being fired a second time (though the only time I was
fired I had thanked god and cried tears of joy after finding out). NO! Instead
we shall focus on my recent adventures, badassery, and nonchalant caddy-wampus
with which my days have been filled. First though we shall give a few points to
summarize since again I know my friends are lazy; most of you have only gleaned
three words from your skimming of the first paragraphs. None of which were
poop, tits, pussy, or owl pellet (We’re into ornithology) so you all probably
stopped reading. SO HERE WEEEEEEEEE GO!
1. All roads lead to Rome, and all dark alleys lead to
sketchy shit
2. If it is
SUNDAY, MONDAY, or THURSDAY we will be watching football regardless of how
important you think your fucking
foreign news is.
3. The most common sickness on Boats is caused by someone
pooping in your mouth
4. Plantains are dope, end of story
5. Plantation
Slavery was a terrible part of history, but a very fun theme for a family
styled restaurant.
6. If you have to walk through a homeless persons sleeping
area don’t be rude wipe your feet.
7. If you are holding an alcoholic beverage, or are wearing
anything denim then you have no business being in a gym.
8. White people only laugh at Black people jokes if a black
person initiates the laughter regardless of if it’s funny or not
9. People who ride the scooters just because they are really
fat have two choices, stop eating until you can walk or crack open the car
battery in the back of your hov-around and slang back that acid until you
better the human race.
10. It is okay to stand by while a man hits a woman ONLY
when two conditions are met: they are certified, grade-A trailer trash, and you
are shitfaced and cheering.
Our story begins this time in the
midst of a grad political struggle for the future of AMERRIKUH, and its people.
For those of you who weren’t political science majors, or just busy the island
of Puerto Rico is in turmoil and reaching an apex in it’s ongoing debate over
their own sovereignty, and relationship with the stars and stripes. It is the
day before the vote on this issue, both tempers, and temperatures are running
high as demonstrators take to the streets for independence.
Enter me, midday, Old San Juan
Docks. Stage left various carts with herpes infested crack heads selling fake
bags, and authentic Taiwanese-crafted native jewelry and art. Stage right is
Senior Frogs and other local bars. Our ship has been warned of the current
political situation, and has been extended armed guards for all tours and passenger
groups. Being the responsible explorer that I am, I knew the first thing I had
to do… do… do… do
It is at
this time I must admit my problem, and no it’s not alcoholism (which is just an
excuse for those who lack self control), I suffer from a very serious yet
manageable malady known in the medical world as Chronic Unintentional Wandering
Syndrome. A strange, and very little understood behavioral disorder. Causing
one to engage in fluky escapades and involuntary gallivanting. It is believed to
be a nontransferable disease, though it has been observed in groups of
un-inoculated where one carrier is present. There is no known cure though some
success has been seen in treatment of children using proximity control tethers.
Don’t be sad though, like that guy who was allowed to cheat in the Olympics and
use robot legs I am handicap-able! BACK IN SAN JUAN
…I knew the first thing I had
to do: GET SHITTY! Senior Frogs is still in its offseason so drinks are cheap;
as well they treat the cruise staff generously since they want us to bring the
passengers. Two very fortunate stipulations that created one of my top five
favorite things: FREE TEQUILLA!!! As an experienced connoisseur of this Mexican
liquid gold I took my time to really savor and enjoy the nuances and accents of
an entire bottle before I left. Once I was ready to explore I strapped my shoes
(which that morning had laces) and put on someone else’s sunglasses and headed
into town.
After
about 10 minutes of indiscriminate meandering I came upon a street market and
fair. What I discovered can only be described as a stereotype reinforcement
bonanza. Gaze upon Hispanic women screaming at each other yelling “Ai-hee!
Ai-hee!” as they salsa in the middle of a dirty street where a band is randomly
playing. Watch as old men in fedoras and wife beaters with open short-sleave
silk button downs play dominos. See a disproportionate ratio of children to
parents run through an open hydrant. EVERYONE SUCK ON SOME SUGAR CANE! EVERYONE
YELL ARIBA! EVERYONE PLAY HAND PERCUSSION! And I swear to god about every third
fucking person had a pair of bongos magically propel from their asses and
create a cacophony only a 1950’s bigot cartoon character could be proud of.
After
my stay in the hall of tolerance I decided I would need to find the beach. This
was the first port since the Hurricane, and I really wanted some beach time. It
was at this point I realized the sun exposure, and the tequila had reached a
point of critical mass within me throttling me into a BENDVENTURE. Strap into
the rollercoaster of wasted excitement! Ride time is who the fuck knows, and
you’ll disembark at who the fuck cares station.
I
snuck onto the set of some Puerto Rican commercial with kids holding red
umbrellas. I tried to get into the
shot, but somehow they caught me. I guess my 6’2” frame didn’t blend in
unnoticed to the 20 four ft. tall children. Also I had an orange umbrella.
After that it becomes a large mental slushy of walking through streets, shops,
and cafes trying to get directions to the beach. I know at one point I was
quite fascinated by pigeons because there were shit ton of pictures of them on
my phone.
When I finally started to
sober up a bit I was on the beach, and walking, SCORE! Considering I had
accomplished what I set out to do, and after a quick check confirmed I still
had both my kidneys, I just carried on.
As
I walked along the picturesque sandy shore I started to feel a sinister air
creep into my so far incredible adventure. Trash started to appear more
frequently on the sands. Old bags and taps hung from tree limbs as shelters. I
knew I had wandered to far when in quick succession I walked across a soaking
wet mat and a man yelled “Feet! Feet! No! No feet!” chased me off what must
have been his prized Persian rug, and another man ran past me in the opposite
direction completely naked. I took a cue from the nudist and began to run
myself hoping to find an exit to the beach. Oh yeah, this beach I ended up on
was at the bottom of a cliff.
At
one side is the ocean, to the other is a cliff covered in thick jungle foliage,
and behind me is a man who is quite perturbed about my lack of guest manners
who is by now having evening tee with his naked neighbor. As Winston Churchill
once said “If you’re going through hell keep going.” So I booked it along the beach
Sperrys on just in case I have to double tap z and perform evasive actions.
About fifteen minutes of terror three more homeless people, and two crazy
people dancing I ran into an American national walking his dogs.
DUDEWITHDOGS: You lost man?
ME: No… Just looking for the
stairs you know.
DUDEWITHDOGS: Oh haha there are
none, you gotta climb out man. I’d hurry up, this place isn’t exactly family
friendly after dark.
Short
story short I climbed. Quick recap
I am exhausted, half drunk, half hung-over, running in boat shoes sand and sea
half opened two mighty bloody blisters, I’m covered in dirt and thorns from my
climb up a fucking jungle cliff, and I definitely smell like shit. I come out
of the brush only to come upon the exact location that all those demonstrators
(remember them from the beginning) are congregating before the march and ride
out into the city.
Now
I began to receive stares, I mean it is not every day that you see a white guy
crawl out of the jungle in the middle of San Juan. I tried to play it off all
casual and just started walking away. Then From Behind I start hearing shout
and laughter of “Gringo.” That’s when I decided I could be a track athlete. By
my rough estimations I ran about three miles in 10 minutes give or take a few
seconds. The sun had already gone down, and I was not sticking around to find
out what an American in a protest against America gets treated.
So
my experience was quite intense and nearly frightful but I was able to snap
this awesome picture of myself on the beach. WORTH IT!
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