Sunday, May 21, 2006

Vacation Stories, Part 3

Of crocodiles and rum. I have held a crocodile once before. In Mexico, about eight years ago. Not a big one, mind you. Maybe two years old or so. It was definitely not very cute. Nor much of a threat. I had its mouth firmly held shut in my right hand. Crocs have incredible strength biting down on things, but surprisingly weak muscles to open their mouths.

The island had a fairly sizeable number of crocs. We caught a glimpse of several of them on a boat tour we did midway through the trip. I asked this one (whom I named Chauncey) to smile for my camera. And he obliged.


After hanging with Chauncey and his friends, we headed off for a fully functioning rum factory. When we got there, we were each given a cup of what might possibly have been the best rum punch I have ever drank. The bartender was serving them in 8 ounce plastic cups, but a ten dollar tip had us guzzling the next round in 20 ounce plastic cups.

Buzzed, we bumbled our way around the factory grounds, ignoring our tour guide. I was looking behind a large cast iron pot when I suddenly saw this. I think he was horny.


He's really not my type.

At the end of the tour, we were given free access to all the rums made by this factory. Sample whatever we want and however much we wanted. There were 30 different types of rum and rum-related products. Of course, my friends and me hit the expensive shit first.

My friend grabbed a bottle of the reserve rum (drinks like fine whiskey) and was pouring everyone shots of the stuff. Friends, random people walking by, he was just hooking them up. This angry British guy started to complain.

"You're hogging it all, give me some," he bellowed. He was accompanied by a son who was covered in acne (seriously, I think his body was mostly composed of pus). And a disabled wife, who was struggling earlier to make her way through the tour on specialized crutches. His life seemed to suck. He probably needed the free rum more than any of us.

"Chill out, hey you want some. You over there. What you can't have a taste when you are working?"

"Come on, you have to share," unhappy British guy whined.

I wanted to say," Ooooh. Someone needs their nappies changed." Instead, I said the far less witty, "Don't be a jerk, dude."

Eventually we moved on down the table, onto other rums and onto moderate intoxication.

2 Comments:

Blogger Jenn said...

hm...crocs & rum...good combo. :P that Chauncey's an absolute doll - much hotter than the strutty ol' bird.

3:54 PM  
Blogger Joseph K said...

There is a certain sadness in his eyes, no?

7:06 PM  

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