DC to San Juan
The night before the trip, I got a new haircut, short, buzzcut-ish, and highlights. Then a friend came over to help with some grooming. And so I found myself packing at 1030 the night before I leave. So am I really thinking things through, what I’m bringing, the right number of shirts, shorts, etc? No, not really. I got the essentials and shoved them into a suitcase and a roll on. Then I crashed.
San Juan is not pretty. It’s big, it’s noisy, it’s a mix of modern high rises and slums. The traffic makes DC’s look weak. It reminds me of the Phillipines, and not just for the heat. The driver doesn’t speak English (and this is a US territory don’t forget!), the cars don’t really follow the traffic lights. It’s all just weird. We get to the Condado area of San Juan which is where the Radisson is. I had Pricelined the Radisson and it claimed it was a 3 star hotel. I guess 3 stars doesn’t mean much in San Juan. The hotel is basic, clean, but not 3 stars. It does have a casino which is packed with little old ladies chain smoking and working the slots. Kind of sad. I change clothes (shorts yea!!) and decide to tour the neighborhood. Condado is definitely one of the main tourist areas, so it’s kind of nice. Kind of like a run down South Beach. I manage to find the Atlantic Beach Hotel which is the gay hotel and it’s got a beachfront bar. I sit, listen to the good music, and drink a couple of margaritas. Did I say couple? Try four. And then I realize, I’m hammered. And hungry.
So I find a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I’m sitting next to two young, pretty hot guys who are so working this woman who is sitting next to them. They are probably early 20s and she’s probably mid-late 30s. And they are using every tired line in the book and it’s just really sad. Weirder still is that across from them are two older men, who the younger men refer to as their Dad’s, and the older men are trying to convince the woman to go out with their sons and have a "good time". Even in my 5 margarita stupor (well I had to have another one with the chips while I wait for my dinner!), I can’t believe these men are trying to scam this woman into their sons beds. And trust me, it’s so obvious that all the younger guys want to do is score. Then, the younger guys leave and it turns out the older guys aren’t their Dads at all, just strangers at the restaurant. It’s like watching the Twilight Zone.
Between the food and the margaritas, I’m done for the night, at like 8 PM. Yes, kind of sad I know. But tomorrow is old San Juan and then the beach!