Gringo greatness

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I rode my high from the Pantanal to Bonito, a small tourist town sprinkled with rivers. The attractions were pretty, but the women were beautiful. They stood in their shop windows with tight jeans and short shirts. The younger ones stumbled over their words when alto rubio ojos de azul Tim walked through the door. The older beauties gave us only ice. This made me feel at home, a beautiful bitch is a beautiful bitch no matter if you are in Bonito Brazil or Biloxi USA.

We wasted the day and wandered at night. We stumbled onto the local fair and perched ourselves on the one bustling corner in the sleepy town. Tim and i exchanged long winded conversations, as we most often do. We spoke about nature and love and our love for nature. He relayed me stories of the destruction that Paraguayans had laid to the land. He told me of farmers who torch the grassland for fun. Animals are the things of folklore these days, he said. With the import of the gun and the loss of any regard for the land, all edible species had been wiped out of his village in a span of 20 years. These tales of disrepute left a bad taste in my mouth. They also served as a premonition of the vibe I would feel as I stepped foot into Paraguay two days later.

But the sweet taste of whiskey washed my mouth clean and gave us the courage to walk with the locals. We entered the fray of the nearby party and parked ourselves within arms reach of alcohol and pretty girls. Tim struck up conversations in Spanish and guarani as I stammered a few remarks from the side of my mouth. I was in no shape to speak any Spanish. We hung around the fiesta until we were the only firebreathers left. Trash was strewn in the street along with the broken dreams of lonely teenage males. They walked home like us, with heads held low and awkwardly clumsy gaits.

But our fortunes changed and we hit upon another lively spot and rushed the door. The cover was steep and our pockets empty so we milled around awaiting inspiration. It came, but I wished it hadn´t.

In my revelry I decided it was a good idea to case the joint and find a way in. I just couldnt stand staring at the girls through the window any longer. So I got closer, and stood on a bench by the window, within arms reach of the writhing tourists within. And I leapt. I leapt through the open window and onto the dance floor.
But before I could even bust a single move my arms were twisted behind my back and my head was shoved the door. The bouncers swore at me in Spanish as they kicked me to the curb. Tim was dumbfounded, I just laughed.

Im not proud of being a gringo, but it has its perks. Its wildly entertaining and wholly invigorating. Defeated but not down, we strolled the streets again. Luckily we found no action and none found us. So I cackled all the way to my room and slept soundly but shallowly for the next 7 hours.

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