Gin and Soda

Yeah, the beach sucked. Turns out it's the closest one to San Jose. That's it. It's not neato, it's not fancy. The "hotel casino" was a dive of a motel with a small room filled with slot machines and a tiny pool where this freak guy in a THONG bathing suit kept sunning and BENDING OVER. There were two Toucans in a cage by the pool and I would plot at night as to how I could set them free. With my luck, I figured, their wings were clipped and they'd just jump out of the cage, into the pool and drown. What a shitty life.

The best time that I had there was the last night. All the others wanted to go eat at some taco place on the "strip" (yeah, strip of crap-ass stores and bars filled with sweaty people wearing bathing suits that are too small for them) that was supposed to be good, but which Alex said had flies swarming all over the salad bar. Yum! So I ate by myself at the hotel restaurant, which really was very, very good. I bought a $12 filet mignon and drank two glasses of wine while watching the ocean. It was much prettier at night because you couldn't see all of the rocks, mud, and beach peddlars. My waiter, Manuel, talked with me for an hour. It was great, as I got to really practice Spanish, and we laughed a lot. I was the only person there, so I got a lot of attention. The steak was great. Hopefully I didn't get mad cows disease.

I'm attaching beach pictures which look really good considering that crap place. You'll just have to believe me that it was nothing special....maybe I should be a photographer.