Luck is something that often alludes me in with certain things. The lottery. Tennis. Spot the ball competitions. Women. Tonight’s episode only serves to solidify the fact. I go so far as to say it epitomises my track record.
For all of the ridiculously beautiful Colombia girls I’m surrounded by I still find myself attracted to pale skin. The young lady working behind the hostel bar grabs my attention and holds it for the whole evening. We jump from bar to bar on a busy Saturday night, until we’ve exhausted everything the barrio has to offer. Nearly. The thing I’ve found about nightlife here is that it’s not actually any good. The music is terrible and you always feel like you’re chasing the party. Tonight is no exception.
So after some debate we decide to try a club five minutes away by cab. I move to the roadside and flag down a taxi. Before I can ride shotgun, the pretty American has jumped in and I’ve piled into the back. Myself and the two other girls. Now for all the fat, hairy, smelly cab drivers with missing teeth I could have hailed down, in all the millions of taxi’s that pepper the streets, I get the one with Mr Sexy-Handsome-Charm-Hero. “He’s so sexy” she whispers to her two friends, only to discover he speaks perfect English. In the time it takes to reach the destination, he’s sweeped her off her feet, then actually clocks off and joins us for a drink at the new venue. We meet two guys staying at the hostel at the club, and they start dancing with the two other girls. So there am I, standing alone with a drink in my hand, actually laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
Still, it makes for another interesting story, and one that keeps my friends laughing for most of the next day. I’m happy to provide the humour at my expense.
Taxi, taxi, taxi
Luck is something that often alludes me in with certain things. The lottery. Tennis. Spot the ball competitions. Women. Tonight’s episode only serves to solidify the fact. I go so far as to say it epitomises my track record.
For all of the ridiculously beautiful Colombia girls I’m surrounded by I still find myself attracted to pale skin. The young lady working behind the hostel bar grabs my attention and holds it for the whole evening. We jump from bar to bar on a busy Saturday night, until we’ve exhausted everything the barrio has to offer. Nearly. The thing I’ve found about nightlife here is that it’s not actually any good. The music is terrible and you always feel like you’re chasing the party. Tonight is no exception.
So after some debate we decide to try a club five minutes away by cab. I move to the roadside and flag down a taxi. Before I can ride shotgun, the pretty American has jumped in and I’ve piled into the back. Myself and the two other girls. Now for all the fat, hairy, smelly cab drivers with missing teeth I could have hailed down, in all the millions of taxi’s that pepper the streets, I get the one with Mr Sexy-Handsome-Charm-Hero. “He’s so sexy” she whispers to her two friends, only to discover he speaks perfect English. In the time it takes to reach the destination, he’s sweeped her off her feet, then actually clocks off and joins us for a drink at the new venue. We meet two guys staying at the hostel at the club, and they start dancing with the two other girls. So there am I, standing alone with a drink in my hand, actually laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
Still, it makes for another interesting story, and one that keeps my friends laughing for most of the next day. I’m happy to provide the humour at my expense.