It's been too long my friends and there is much to catch up on. Let's consider this episode a flashback. I've never written a flashback before but feel it will be a worthwhile endeavor I can add to my resume of semi-nonficitonal material.
(Note: All names below have been altered to hide the identity of the actual persons involved until all lawsuits have been settled.)
I made a trip back to Texas in late October for the wedding of a great man and true friend, Nick Sludtke. This is a man who can honestly admit he has never lied before, even if he tells you he can fly. And I can actually confirm this is indeed not a lie, reason being, when he gets drunk he can't feel his feet and truly thinks he is flying. Although one would think the gift of flight an amazing attribute, for our friend, Mr. Sludtke, this usually meant he could end up at any number of locations any given weekday or weekend morning after a night out. It was no surprise to us to hear he had woken up locked out of his car in a downtown parking garage with just his pants and tank top on, in a random front yard in an unknown neighborhood being interrogated by the police, in a New Orleans hotel room after meeting some rappers in Houston, or behind the barricades of a construction site where the morning crew just put a hard hat on him and let the little guy sleep it off while they jack hammered a few feet away. Luckily for him he met a great girl who is able to keep him safely on the ground and in a cozy bed where he can comfortably wake up each morning without worrying where he is.
It's always great to have a place to call home especially when that place is Texas. It was a joy to see so many friends and family especially since at some points along my sailing and jungle adventures I thought I may never see anyone again. Being back home and seeing everyone reminded me of three things:
1. How much I missed Texas barbecue and luckily McDonald's brought their McRib back just in time for my return home. It always amazes me how they can make a rib sandwich without any bones. I packed up 25 in the trunk to take back with me to Costa Rica. What's more amazing is how I took this picture by myself while driving down 59 around the med center on Friday during lunch hour. Don't worry it was a rental. But better than the McRib were the actual ribs and bbq chicken my dad cooked up when I got down to their house. He always tries to keep me from leaving again by putting me in a bbq induced food comma. 2. How nice it is to have friends that let you fly their planes. Driving is such a bore.
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| Buzzing by the locals camped out and fishing on the beach. |
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| Our shadow with the coast stretching off into the horizon. |
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| A tribute picture for my friends at Johnson Space Center with downtown Houston way in the background. |
I can't mention who I was flying with because we probably broke multiple FAA regulations and he still lives in the in the country but I would like to thank Chris and Mary for letting me crash at their place in Houston while they were out of town. The party was great you guys. Sorry you weren't in town for it. If the cat doesn't seem to be acting normal, no worries. I was told the effects would only last 3 - 4 months.
3. I can't remember the third thing right now but hopefully it will come to me before this flashback is over.
Now to be completely honest, the real reason I flew back to Texas was to go through Miami. I started out to do this trip to see what more life could offer and what else I could learn about the world. This is one thing I have learned for sure: Any time you get a chance to go to Miami take it. If you are a single man or let's say a man who is in a committed relationship but likes to wear dark sunglasses and can get by with flying from San Diego to LA via Miami, I would recommend it every time. Miami is the only city in the world I have been to where I have almost proposed to 3 women before even getting out of the airport . One of them being the lady who works at the over size baggage counter. And it just gets better from there.
During my one night lay over, I had the pleasure of going out with the best wing man ever, Mark Horner. He lives in a condo high rise on South Beach where I would just be happy riding the elevator up and down to the lobby to meet ladies. However the night I was there we felt a bit more daring and went to a little bar just down the street where I met an attractive girl and struck up a conversation. I like to joke around a bit and told her I was an ankle model. Well there are two things you don't joke about in Miami and modeling is one of them. She took me serious from the get go and then I was in to deep to back pedal so then began expounding on the trials and tribulations of being an ankle model. She said she completely understand because her career as an underwear model was just as difficult. She then began to show me some of her work on her iPhone (thank you Steve Jobs) and even though I couldn't see her face in any of the pictures, I wasn't going to discredit her and make her profession any tougher. I do have a heart.
The point which I am trying to make but have digressed from a bit is that Miami is great. Get there.
Oh yeah, and after checking my notes, I now remember the 3rd thing I wanted to mention: That I am a racist. Allow me to explain.
After a late night of dancing at Wild West, my friend Dirty Frank convinces myself and our other friend Mark Horner (in town from Miami for the aforementioned wedding) to go to House of Pies for some late night grub. He basically convinces us by paying for the taxi there and home. Eventhough at 3 am House of Pies is usually only 10% straight somehow Dirty seems to be able to meet ladies there. While we are waiting for our table, 2 ladies walk in dressed up in cocktail dresses, they see the wait, and begin to leave. Dirty grabs them and tells them we are next for a table and they can sit with us. They give a disgruntled look and ask his name. They proceed to stomp over to the hostess and ask who is next. The girls look surprised when they hear his name and agree to sit with us. As Shakespeare once wrote in one of his most famous sonnets, "The way to a drunk girl's heart is through her stomach."
We end up sitting at the bar with Horner on the left, then the 2 girls, then Dirty, and then myself flanking the right. Dirty begins chatting up the girl next to him and somehow in a matter of minutes he has her slithered around his arm leaving me baffled once again as to how this guy does it especially under such dim odds. I just assume she is still really drunk and can't differentiate between a slovenly groomed 14 year old and grown-ass man. I begin to scan the restaurant for any other late night contenders but quickly realize that my best chances are chatting up the 72 year old waitress in the hopes she has a grand daughter who has chosen a different career choice.
The girls' food comes out first and once it comes the one talking to Dirty unleashes her tentacles from his arm and begins to shovel in her chow without saying a word until she is done. Once complete she then tells us how much she loves food and begins to "assist" her friend with her food as well. Our food comes out and after I eat half of some sort of egg scramble called the Cancun Special, the side of beans that appeared to actually been shipped in from Cancun and was now beside my plate as a cold side didn't seem quite that appetizing. I notice Dirty's girl is still engulfing her friend's meal so I lean over and tell him to tell his new friend that if she is still hungry she can have my beans. To our surprise she abruptly stopped eating even leaving a little bit of potato bake dangling from her lower lip and glared at me with fork still in hand making her look even more menacing. She then began to say rather loudly that I was a racist for offering her beans.
Apparently earlier in the conversation she had mentioned she was from Mexico. Now deep in the folds of her brain somehow her logic path put together that I only offered her beans because she said she was from Mexico hence I am a racist. I then tried to explain my logic path which was since I saw her scarfing down food like a horse after running the Kentucky Derby, I assumed she was still hungry and was trying to be polite in offering her some of my food. This didn't sit well with her either and obviously takes much more than trying to be polite to re-wire the workings of a woman's brain. She immediately got up and told her friend they were leaving. I was just glad they stopped to pay for their food on the way out. I looked at Dirty to apologize although not quite sure why and after the shock wore off at the quick change of events he just began laughing. Another memorable night at the House of Pies.
The next morning, we were still laughing about the prior night and since Dirty is aware of all things Asian in a 500 mile radius and I needed to work off my racist aura, we spent all day at the 2011 Korean Fest in downtown Houston. We got full on delicious Korean fare from Bulgogi to ice cream and listened to enough Korean underground rappers until at least K-fest 2012. Sometimes I wonder why I even need to leave this city when I can learn so much about myself and the world right here in H-town.Well I guess that sums up my flashback. I hope everyone enjoyed it. Presently things are going well in back in Costa Rica. I completed my dive master training and my parents just came to visit for a week and a half. They gave me plenty of material for my next blog which will be out soon.
And just to verify that I am indeed back in Costa Rica and put the rumors to rest, I wanted to include this picture of where I am finishing up this post:
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| There are no rumors that I know of but thought it was a nice picture to end with. |
Hope everyone is well and let me know how ya'll are doing.
Jb
