- Thread starter frank12
- Start date
Cabarete Diaries, part 2
Frank12,
A doff of my literary hat to you Sir. You entered a bizarre realm and held my attention throughout. I thought I led a checkered life. You win hands down. Amazing story. Keep them coming.
Btw. Arrive DR Jan 07th. Will bar be open then? Will have three guests in tow. Virgins, basically.*
A doff of my literary hat to you Sir. You entered a bizarre realm and held my attention throughout. I thought I led a checkered life. You win hands down. Amazing story. Keep them coming.
Btw. Arrive DR Jan 07th. Will bar be open then? Will have three guests in tow. Virgins, basically.*
Yeah, we're shooting for December 16th--there or around that date. I'll let you know as we get closer. I come back in late December and will be working there full time.
Frank
Chapter 450 (Why you should never open a restaurant in the DR)
Every once and a while, a tropical fever hits a stray tourist or expat that has visited the island and they are overcome with an over-whelming desire to open a bar or restaurant. It’s a fever so grand in scale, so over-whelming in nature, that when it infects its host, it infects every cell in their body to the point that they succumb to illusions of grandeur, wealth and success.
The fever has been compared to both Malaria and Dengue Fever. There is no known cure, no anti-virus, and no amount of reasoning or logic capable of swaying or persuading its host to reconsider their decision to open up, yet, another restaurant or bar on an island already saturated with them.
The urge to own a restaurant or bar in the Caribbean is unlike any fever known to mankind. But down here, it takes on a whole new level of euphoria closely related to Reefer Madness and Mad Cow Disease. Down here, the virus mutates, and like all mutations, no amount of medicine or reasoning seems capable of eliminating the virus.
If I had one dollar for every time someone told me that they were going to open a unique, one of a kind, special restaurant or bar, I would be a millionaire right now. If I had one dollar for every time I’ve told someone to please re-consider throwing your hard-earned money into an open pit of debauchery and madness, I would be a double millionaire…in which case, my secretary would be writing this for me. Alas, I have no money, so I must ring the sirens of danger and warn people to please do not wade into dangerous waters and risk being caught by the undertow.
Unfortunately, I already know that people will not heed any advice i give. Experience has taught me this. I already know that even after i give countless examples of why you should not do it, it will be in vain. Trying to reason with someone who has caught the fever is like trying to tell someone not to follow your heart after you have fallen deeply, and madly in love. It's also like trying to tell your drunk friend not to stick their dick into this or that hole. Some things must be done to see what it feels like.
People conspire in their own seduction. People are remarkable in their capacity to deceive themselves. I know all too well. I'm the king of convincing myself of some of the most ridiculously and absurd fabrications out there. No one is better at deceiving themselves then me. I’m a professional. I am the reigning king self-delusion. It took years to get this far out-of-touch with reality and i'm not coming back down to earth...unless its for a really good Happy Hour, or a nice piece of ass!
But I digress.
It seems that no matter how many times I tell people, “Please, please, for the love of ****ing everything holey, do not Enter the Dragon of the restaurant/bar business in the Caribbean!”
People do not listen. People cannot listen. And let’s be honest here for a second..."Some men you just can't reach!"
People are not stupid, however. Smart people want to be talked out of it. Smart people want information. The irony is that most people really do know better. But there are forces here greater then reason. There are forces here greater than logic. There are forces at work here that align with the stars and moon in such a way that make people follow their heart and not their reasoning.
Instead of heeding my warnings about “Do not touch the Hot Stove (metaphor for the volatility of the restaurant/bar business), people will instead walk over to the Hot Stove and lay their dick right on top of scorching, hot burners, where, their dick's get stuck and blister up to the size of watermelons.
Which leads me to my point...which I have now completely forgot. Don't worry, i'll make something up.
Recently, a retired banker, George—who just happens to have recently retired from the Department of Defense—said to me and Big Frank, “I was thinking of buying and opening a restaurant on the north coast…and I was wondering what you guys think?”
I spun my head around 360 degrees like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and projectile vomited directly into his mouth. I let out a long stream of green vile--so off the ****ing charts, that I left him in shock with his mouth wide open. I then proceeded to vomit guacamole sauce into his mouth. What else could I do? What can you do in this situation? He's an ex-banker. He should know better.
I screamed, “Are you ****ing insane, George? Look around the beach, man, the North Coast is completely saturated with restaurants and bars right now. Almost all of them are for sale! We need another restaurant or bar in this town like we need another venereal disease!”
Big Frank rolled his eyes into the back of his head and called upon the Irish leprechauns to speak for him. He asked, “Did you see something missing on the North Coast, George? Do you see something lacking here in the restaurant market?
"I can get a killer deal on a restaurant on the beach and i want to open a special, unique restaurant."
“And just why exactly do you think it’s going to work, George?”
“I don’t know. To be honest, nothing has ever worked in the location I'm thinking of.”
“And why do you think that is, George?”
“I don’t know…not run right. Not offering the right food. Too expensive. Bad management. too much over-head costs...It could be a number of things.”
“George, look around the ****ing beach, man. What do you see? There are lots of places run right. There are lots of places offering good food. There are lots of places nearly giving Happy Hour drinks away for free. Everyone is just barely holding on here. Everyone is just barely getting by...just barely paying the rent. Yes, many people are paying their bills, but almost no one here is getting rich! If anyone was getting rich, they would not be trying to sell their business or looking for a partner!"
And now the Top 10 Reasons why you should not open a restaurant or bar in the DR
1.) The tourist season is 5-months. Not 6-months. Not 8-months. Not 10-months. But 5-months: December until April. After that, everyone goes home, or back to work, or back to reality. The people who stay behind are the expats, pensioners, or kids living off of family. The people left behind are on budgets. Tight budgets! It’s the same on all of the islands. The people that stay behind are people on very limited budgets. Sure, there’s people with money. There are people with a lot of money! Crazy money. But there are too few of these people to go around in comparison to the amount of restaurants and bars. The market is saturated right now with restaurants & bars--to the point where you almost have to give away drinks to bring people in. And if you don’t, they’ll complain and say bad things about you. Trust me. There is only 5-months of good business, followed by 7-months of near starvation and barely getting by.
2.) Labor is cheap, but it's expensive. Wait. What? How can it be both cheap and expensive? You must pay every employee double pay in December. You must provide insurance for any employee who has worked for you for longer than 90 days. You must pay taxes. A lot of government taxes. You must pay for Maternity leave for every full-time employee…this, in a country that does not know how to put on a condom correctly or budget a check book.
3.) Electricity is expensive. Insanely expensive. Oh, the electricity goes out all of the time. You have never experienced electricity bills quiet like this island until you possess 4 or 5 beer coolers and freezers. Food must be refrigerated 24hrs--which necessitates a diesel Generator for when the electrify goes out.
4.) Diesel Generators are costly. They break down constantly. They need constant “servicing.” Diesel fuel is expensive. You can always choose to purchase your electricity from a third party when the electricity fails—and oh yeah…the electricity fails almost daily. After a certain point, it makes more sense to own your own generator, because there will a be balance point where the costs of owning one are offset by paying someone every month for use of their generator. That balance point is different for different businesses.
5.) Theft. It’s always there. There is always theft. Sometimes its small. Sometimes its large, but it’s always there. Describing all the ways people can and will steal inside a restaurant or bar would require all the mainframe computer space from Facebook and the internet.
6.) You need to be at your business 24yrs a day!! Why 24-hours? Because when you’re closed, another type of thieving begins—its when the Grinch that Stole Christmas comes out to play. It usually involves your Watchie-man (Security Guard). And you must have a security guard! Otherwise your whole business will get up and walk away.
7.) Contractors, Building Inspectors, Labor board (Fiscal), the police, and a host of other leeches will have their hands out whenever you want to build-on, repair, add to, change, cut down, or replace something. You need a permit for this and that. But before you can get the permit, you need another permit. It’s a never ending war of Kafkaesque experiences. Everyone will tell you, “Just go ahead and do it! Deal with the issue later! Well, guess what…the issue always shows up. Now, if you have contacts in the government—or if you’re lucky enough to have some family members in the government—you can by-pass some of this…but not all of it. People want paid off, and if you’re a foreigner, they really want paid off! I won’t even touch on the last mayor who wanted to charge—and did charge many restaurants on the beach—for each seat they had out on the beach. Luckily some people can be bribed.
8.) Getting a Quote. People will give you all kinds of quotes—quotes for this or that. Quotes for a piece of furniture; quotes for this kind of electrical repair; quotes for home repairs, inverters, cable, computers, software, generators, roofs etc. but the quotes VS the reality—after everything has been said and done—are so far apart that they might as well be from different galaxies!! When something breaks down, and you pay to have it fixed. Guess what? As soon as is breaks down again—and it will break down again—you will tell the electrician, carpenter, mechanic, cable man, or just fill in the blank here_________that they did not fix it right the first time! They will just shrug their shoulders and charge you again. And again. And again, The vicious-cycle of repairs that are never fixed right the first time—goes around and around—and where the Merry-Go-round stops…nobody knows.
9. Expats & Experts. Everyone is an expert. Everyone knows what kind of music you should be playing. What kind of food you should be serving. What prices you should be charging for your drinks and food. People will show up left and right and tell you what they want to pay for a drink or dish. They will explain to you what you are doing wrong and why you should be giving away things for free.
10. Severance Pay. It’s 10% a year, for each year that an employee works for you. (It starts after 90 days). Think about this for a second…for each year that someone works for you, you have to set aside 10% of their salary.
Having said all this, a few people always do make it. There are always exceptions.
Every once and a while, a tropical fever hits a stray tourist or expat that has visited the island and they are overcome with an over-whelming desire to open a bar or restaurant. It’s a fever so grand in scale, so over-whelming in nature, that when it infects its host, it infects every cell in their body to the point that they succumb to illusions of grandeur, wealth and success.
The fever has been compared to both Malaria and Dengue Fever. There is no known cure, no anti-virus, and no amount of reasoning or logic capable of swaying or persuading its host to reconsider their decision to open up, yet, another restaurant or bar on an island already saturated with them.
The urge to own a restaurant or bar in the Caribbean is unlike any fever known to mankind. But down here, it takes on a whole new level of euphoria closely related to Reefer Madness and Mad Cow Disease. Down here, the virus mutates, and like all mutations, no amount of medicine or reasoning seems capable of eliminating the virus.
If I had one dollar for every time someone told me that they were going to open a unique, one of a kind, special restaurant or bar, I would be a millionaire right now. If I had one dollar for every time I’ve told someone to please re-consider throwing your hard-earned money into an open pit of debauchery and madness, I would be a double millionaire…in which case, my secretary would be writing this for me. Alas, I have no money, so I must ring the sirens of danger and warn people to please do not wade into dangerous waters and risk being caught by the undertow.
Unfortunately, I already know that people will not heed any advice i give. Experience has taught me this. I already know that even after i give countless examples of why you should not do it, it will be in vain. Trying to reason with someone who has caught the fever is like trying to tell someone not to follow your heart after you have fallen deeply, and madly in love. It's also like trying to tell your drunk friend not to stick their dick into this or that hole. Some things must be done to see what it feels like.
People conspire in their own seduction. People are remarkable in their capacity to deceive themselves. I know all too well. I'm the king of convincing myself of some of the most ridiculously and absurd fabrications out there. No one is better at deceiving themselves then me. I’m a professional. I am the reigning king self-delusion. It took years to get this far out-of-touch with reality and i'm not coming back down to earth...unless its for a really good Happy Hour, or a nice piece of ass!
But I digress.
It seems that no matter how many times I tell people, “Please, please, for the love of ****ing everything holey, do not Enter the Dragon of the restaurant/bar business in the Caribbean!”
People do not listen. People cannot listen. And let’s be honest here for a second..."Some men you just can't reach!"
People are not stupid, however. Smart people want to be talked out of it. Smart people want information. The irony is that most people really do know better. But there are forces here greater then reason. There are forces here greater than logic. There are forces at work here that align with the stars and moon in such a way that make people follow their heart and not their reasoning.
Instead of heeding my warnings about “Do not touch the Hot Stove (metaphor for the volatility of the restaurant/bar business), people will instead walk over to the Hot Stove and lay their dick right on top of scorching, hot burners, where, their dick's get stuck and blister up to the size of watermelons.
Which leads me to my point...which I have now completely forgot. Don't worry, i'll make something up.
Recently, a retired banker, George—who just happens to have recently retired from the Department of Defense—said to me and Big Frank, “I was thinking of buying and opening a restaurant on the north coast…and I was wondering what you guys think?”
I spun my head around 360 degrees like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and projectile vomited directly into his mouth. I let out a long stream of green vile--so off the ****ing charts, that I left him in shock with his mouth wide open. I then proceeded to vomit guacamole sauce into his mouth. What else could I do? What can you do in this situation? He's an ex-banker. He should know better.
I screamed, “Are you ****ing insane, George? Look around the beach, man, the North Coast is completely saturated with restaurants and bars right now. Almost all of them are for sale! We need another restaurant or bar in this town like we need another venereal disease!”
Big Frank rolled his eyes into the back of his head and called upon the Irish leprechauns to speak for him. He asked, “Did you see something missing on the North Coast, George? Do you see something lacking here in the restaurant market?
"I can get a killer deal on a restaurant on the beach and i want to open a special, unique restaurant."
“And just why exactly do you think it’s going to work, George?”
“I don’t know. To be honest, nothing has ever worked in the location I'm thinking of.”
“And why do you think that is, George?”
“I don’t know…not run right. Not offering the right food. Too expensive. Bad management. too much over-head costs...It could be a number of things.”
“George, look around the ****ing beach, man. What do you see? There are lots of places run right. There are lots of places offering good food. There are lots of places nearly giving Happy Hour drinks away for free. Everyone is just barely holding on here. Everyone is just barely getting by...just barely paying the rent. Yes, many people are paying their bills, but almost no one here is getting rich! If anyone was getting rich, they would not be trying to sell their business or looking for a partner!"
And now the Top 10 Reasons why you should not open a restaurant or bar in the DR
1.) The tourist season is 5-months. Not 6-months. Not 8-months. Not 10-months. But 5-months: December until April. After that, everyone goes home, or back to work, or back to reality. The people who stay behind are the expats, pensioners, or kids living off of family. The people left behind are on budgets. Tight budgets! It’s the same on all of the islands. The people that stay behind are people on very limited budgets. Sure, there’s people with money. There are people with a lot of money! Crazy money. But there are too few of these people to go around in comparison to the amount of restaurants and bars. The market is saturated right now with restaurants & bars--to the point where you almost have to give away drinks to bring people in. And if you don’t, they’ll complain and say bad things about you. Trust me. There is only 5-months of good business, followed by 7-months of near starvation and barely getting by.
2.) Labor is cheap, but it's expensive. Wait. What? How can it be both cheap and expensive? You must pay every employee double pay in December. You must provide insurance for any employee who has worked for you for longer than 90 days. You must pay taxes. A lot of government taxes. You must pay for Maternity leave for every full-time employee…this, in a country that does not know how to put on a condom correctly or budget a check book.
3.) Electricity is expensive. Insanely expensive. Oh, the electricity goes out all of the time. You have never experienced electricity bills quiet like this island until you possess 4 or 5 beer coolers and freezers. Food must be refrigerated 24hrs--which necessitates a diesel Generator for when the electrify goes out.
4.) Diesel Generators are costly. They break down constantly. They need constant “servicing.” Diesel fuel is expensive. You can always choose to purchase your electricity from a third party when the electricity fails—and oh yeah…the electricity fails almost daily. After a certain point, it makes more sense to own your own generator, because there will a be balance point where the costs of owning one are offset by paying someone every month for use of their generator. That balance point is different for different businesses.
5.) Theft. It’s always there. There is always theft. Sometimes its small. Sometimes its large, but it’s always there. Describing all the ways people can and will steal inside a restaurant or bar would require all the mainframe computer space from Facebook and the internet.
6.) You need to be at your business 24yrs a day!! Why 24-hours? Because when you’re closed, another type of thieving begins—its when the Grinch that Stole Christmas comes out to play. It usually involves your Watchie-man (Security Guard). And you must have a security guard! Otherwise your whole business will get up and walk away.
7.) Contractors, Building Inspectors, Labor board (Fiscal), the police, and a host of other leeches will have their hands out whenever you want to build-on, repair, add to, change, cut down, or replace something. You need a permit for this and that. But before you can get the permit, you need another permit. It’s a never ending war of Kafkaesque experiences. Everyone will tell you, “Just go ahead and do it! Deal with the issue later! Well, guess what…the issue always shows up. Now, if you have contacts in the government—or if you’re lucky enough to have some family members in the government—you can by-pass some of this…but not all of it. People want paid off, and if you’re a foreigner, they really want paid off! I won’t even touch on the last mayor who wanted to charge—and did charge many restaurants on the beach—for each seat they had out on the beach. Luckily some people can be bribed.
8.) Getting a Quote. People will give you all kinds of quotes—quotes for this or that. Quotes for a piece of furniture; quotes for this kind of electrical repair; quotes for home repairs, inverters, cable, computers, software, generators, roofs etc. but the quotes VS the reality—after everything has been said and done—are so far apart that they might as well be from different galaxies!! When something breaks down, and you pay to have it fixed. Guess what? As soon as is breaks down again—and it will break down again—you will tell the electrician, carpenter, mechanic, cable man, or just fill in the blank here_________that they did not fix it right the first time! They will just shrug their shoulders and charge you again. And again. And again, The vicious-cycle of repairs that are never fixed right the first time—goes around and around—and where the Merry-Go-round stops…nobody knows.
9. Expats & Experts. Everyone is an expert. Everyone knows what kind of music you should be playing. What kind of food you should be serving. What prices you should be charging for your drinks and food. People will show up left and right and tell you what they want to pay for a drink or dish. They will explain to you what you are doing wrong and why you should be giving away things for free.
10. Severance Pay. It’s 10% a year, for each year that an employee works for you. (It starts after 90 days). Think about this for a second…for each year that someone works for you, you have to set aside 10% of their salary.
Having said all this, a few people always do make it. There are always exceptions.
Your post confirms in more depth, bits of what Big Frank was telling me when we had a chat every now and the. I could see he was tired and couldn't wait to get out of the business and get back home. Proof to me that the novelty of running the bar had worn off years ago. I'm glad he was able to find a buyer and head home.*
Yep.. There are always the exception.. Like Big Frank.. I remember years ago hanging at Molly's when Big Frank came back from the DR and was all excited about opening up a new place on the beach in Cabarete. I don't think a single person told him it was a good idea. In fact, many were trying to talk him out of it. But Big Frank is his own man and did it anyway. Even ran both at the same time for years and was successful. If he takes all of his memorabilia before the new owners come into 'O' Shea's like he did when he sold Molly's, look for him to open up another one and do it all over again.. I wouldn't bet that he won't open another bar/restaurant using the same proven business model. Cheers.. To Big Frank.
Thank you, brother. Same to you and your wonderful family. I just spent the day at work here in Cabarete (1st day back), and boy do i have some funny stories. But they need to wait. I'm dying from a fever right now.
Frank
Chapter 451 (Men Will Stick their Dick Into Any Hole)
If my life was any crazier, it would be a movie. Every time I think life cannot possibly get any crazier, something comes along to raise the level of debauchery one notch higher.
I’m on a Condor flight from Frankfurt to Puerto Plata. I’m sitting next to a German woman—who’s name I cannot pronounce. We’re sitting here for about three hours smiling at each other. Her son is working on the plane and is one of the stewards. He must be 2-meters tall. His mother is my same height—about 6-foot. Her son keeps bringing her and I gifts---things like bottles of Bailey’s, Kahlua, cognac, etc. with coffee. After that, he brings us wine, and wait…Cava—glorified Champagne from Spain. He keeps feeding his mom alcohol—which she keeps feeding to me.
So, here we are, mother and I, about the same age, getting drunk and horny next to each other.
This German woman is slightly younger than me and possesses nice teeth and shiny dyed mahogany hair. Her son is 23yrs old, flamboyant, fabulous, and Friends of Dorothy. He and I get along right away. His mother and I are best friends after the first bottle of Cava. We’re sitting in Premium Economy class—which is Condor’s code word for glorified Business class.
Two hours into the flight and we are smashed. Smashed! Big time! But especially her. Together, her and I have a tolerance of maybe a 13yrs old Finnish teenager. Neither one of us can handle much alcohol. She keeps making sustained eye-contact with me. This is really weird; the drunk eye-contact we keep sustaining is making me horny. Really horny. But it’s also making me slightly uncomfortable. It’s a weird feeling. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions to feel horny towards someone you’re not really attracted to. But, then I realize, thousands of babies are conceived every single day in similar circumstances where people are not really attracted to each other, but there is just enough chemistry there to pull it all together for 15-minutes of sex in a bathroom.
Which brings me to my next point. Which I forgot already. But don’t worry, I’ll make something up.
Four hours into our flight and the mother and I are flying. I mean, like, really flying! The aircraft might be at 35,000ft, but the mother and I are way up in outer space. We’re nearly landing on the sun. Suddenly, I have to urinate, but I’m afraid of getting up out of my seat and stumbling to the bathroom. So, I do what all good rednecks do, I urinate into a water bottle underneath my blanket they give to you in glorified business class. The mother and I are now laughing hysterically. No, we’re crying. Which is making me miss the water bottle. Now I have urine running down my leg. This leads her and I to giggling at everything…ridiculous things. Stupid things. The other airline stewards keep coming by and saying, “Oh my, love is in the air!” in thick German accents, and then laughing hysterically. Everyone seems so excited that the mother has found a 50yrs old toy boy, me. It’s surreal.
The mother keeps trying to maintain eye-contact with me, which is making me hornier by the minute. I start to leak...like really leak (if you know what I mean)…it’s a chemical reaction that cannot be controlled in men or women. I don’t care who you are, I don't care where you come from, you cannot control leaking when direct eye-contact is made and you are horny! Basically, it works like this: when someone is staring deep into your eyes, and you are drunk, you become horny. This leads to an uncontrolled physical reaction in you body.
To compound things, when you are male, and your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see straight, you start to leak, and suddenly, you are willing to stick your penis into any dark hole. This is life. And right now, I’m in this Cava higher state of horniness (is this even a word?) I’m willing to stick my penis into any hole I can find....which right now happens to be a water bottle. Even my sock looks good right now.
Which brings me to my point that I now remember: Sex.
Us men are really a sad state of affairs. No, really. We can stick our penis into anything. We can have sex with anything. And we do. Put any teenage boy on a deserted island for a year, and he will try to stick his dick into coconuts, fruits, soil, sheep…basically, anything that is dark and soft. And this really sums up the homo sapien species in a nutshell. We’re sexual animals. We’re also social animals. We think about sex all of the time. We think about sex at the most inappropriate times of the day and night. We dream about sex, fantasize about it, and will go without food for long periods of time in order to procure sex. And anyone who tells you different is either straight up lying about sex, or so brainwashed with religion or some other bull**** that they have their heads buried so deep into the sand that they are unwilling to face reality.
If my life was any crazier, it would be a movie. Every time I think life cannot possibly get any crazier, something comes along to raise the level of debauchery one notch higher.
I’m on a Condor flight from Frankfurt to Puerto Plata. I’m sitting next to a German woman—who’s name I cannot pronounce. We’re sitting here for about three hours smiling at each other. Her son is working on the plane and is one of the stewards. He must be 2-meters tall. His mother is my same height—about 6-foot. Her son keeps bringing her and I gifts---things like bottles of Bailey’s, Kahlua, cognac, etc. with coffee. After that, he brings us wine, and wait…Cava—glorified Champagne from Spain. He keeps feeding his mom alcohol—which she keeps feeding to me.
So, here we are, mother and I, about the same age, getting drunk and horny next to each other.
This German woman is slightly younger than me and possesses nice teeth and shiny dyed mahogany hair. Her son is 23yrs old, flamboyant, fabulous, and Friends of Dorothy. He and I get along right away. His mother and I are best friends after the first bottle of Cava. We’re sitting in Premium Economy class—which is Condor’s code word for glorified Business class.
Two hours into the flight and we are smashed. Smashed! Big time! But especially her. Together, her and I have a tolerance of maybe a 13yrs old Finnish teenager. Neither one of us can handle much alcohol. She keeps making sustained eye-contact with me. This is really weird; the drunk eye-contact we keep sustaining is making me horny. Really horny. But it’s also making me slightly uncomfortable. It’s a weird feeling. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions to feel horny towards someone you’re not really attracted to. But, then I realize, thousands of babies are conceived every single day in similar circumstances where people are not really attracted to each other, but there is just enough chemistry there to pull it all together for 15-minutes of sex in a bathroom.
Which brings me to my next point. Which I forgot already. But don’t worry, I’ll make something up.
Four hours into our flight and the mother and I are flying. I mean, like, really flying! The aircraft might be at 35,000ft, but the mother and I are way up in outer space. We’re nearly landing on the sun. Suddenly, I have to urinate, but I’m afraid of getting up out of my seat and stumbling to the bathroom. So, I do what all good rednecks do, I urinate into a water bottle underneath my blanket they give to you in glorified business class. The mother and I are now laughing hysterically. No, we’re crying. Which is making me miss the water bottle. Now I have urine running down my leg. This leads her and I to giggling at everything…ridiculous things. Stupid things. The other airline stewards keep coming by and saying, “Oh my, love is in the air!” in thick German accents, and then laughing hysterically. Everyone seems so excited that the mother has found a 50yrs old toy boy, me. It’s surreal.
The mother keeps trying to maintain eye-contact with me, which is making me hornier by the minute. I start to leak...like really leak (if you know what I mean)…it’s a chemical reaction that cannot be controlled in men or women. I don’t care who you are, I don't care where you come from, you cannot control leaking when direct eye-contact is made and you are horny! Basically, it works like this: when someone is staring deep into your eyes, and you are drunk, you become horny. This leads to an uncontrolled physical reaction in you body.
To compound things, when you are male, and your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see straight, you start to leak, and suddenly, you are willing to stick your penis into any dark hole. This is life. And right now, I’m in this Cava higher state of horniness (is this even a word?) I’m willing to stick my penis into any hole I can find....which right now happens to be a water bottle. Even my sock looks good right now.
Which brings me to my point that I now remember: Sex.
Us men are really a sad state of affairs. No, really. We can stick our penis into anything. We can have sex with anything. And we do. Put any teenage boy on a deserted island for a year, and he will try to stick his dick into coconuts, fruits, soil, sheep…basically, anything that is dark and soft. And this really sums up the homo sapien species in a nutshell. We’re sexual animals. We’re also social animals. We think about sex all of the time. We think about sex at the most inappropriate times of the day and night. We dream about sex, fantasize about it, and will go without food for long periods of time in order to procure sex. And anyone who tells you different is either straight up lying about sex, or so brainwashed with religion or some other bull**** that they have their heads buried so deep into the sand that they are unwilling to face reality.