Crêpes

The place I’m staying is quiet, peaceful, and not known for it’s all-day and -night crazy parties. This is unlike most places that draw thrifty gringos in Antigua.

That said, it does attract people that work at the hostels known for their crazy partying; apparently the weeklong benders get a bit much and they need a break. Last night one such a guy stayed at Earthlodge.

He talked loudly about how tough it is to be manager at this crazy backpackers’ hostel, where he’s expected to be drunk on his feet 24-7, mingle with the guests , and keep track of all finances. Yeah, I can see how that could get tiring*.

He also complained about the food.  So, when Lucy brought out the crêpes for dessert, he was pretty psyched.  So psyched, in fact, that he started making orgasm noises while chewing.

Before you start chastising me for having my head in the gutter, he was not simply expressing his enjoyment of the crêpes. He even shouted towards the kitchen,  <<Lucy, these crêpes are so good, I think I’m going to have an orgasm!>>

I was the only other person in the room at the time, and replied, <<Hey dude, get it where you can.>>

I don’t know if he just chose to ignore my comment (which, by the way, I found hilarious) or if he was stupid and didn’t get what I was implying, or decided to just act like I was laughing with him rather than at him… he decided to continue the joke.

<<Maybe I should get a room with my crêpes.>>

I glance at him and roll my eyes.

<<Gee, could I get some napkins with my crêpes? A lot of napkins?>>

I give him what I hope is a look of disgust. But funny disgust. I’m not completely without humor, c’mon.

<<I took it too far, didn’t I?>> He asks.  <<Um, yeah, a bit too far.>>

I don’t think this guy is the brightest bulb in the box.  Which makes him mostly just obnoxious, but in a way I can glean amusement from.   Oh, I’m mean. Heh.

He returned to his crazy party hostel today, so I suppose I’ll have to find entertainment elsewhere.

***

*It should be noted that I have nothing against paryting per say.  Nevermind that I actually dislike going to parties, and rarely do so at home. That’s a whole different story.  I think my problem in this case is more with the 24-7 partying that happens in places like Guatemala, strictly involving foreigners who come primarily for the cheap booze, that these people then pass off as <<traveling>>.  I mean, whatever. To each his/her own, I suppose. There is something to be said for meeting new people in a new place, even if those new people aren’t from the new place. Everyone has a story to tell, and you can always learn something new. 

There. See? Optimism.

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