Sunday, August 6, 2017

Holiday in the Sun (2017 Ed.) The 51st State

Oh dear baby Jesus Rolex motherfucker, the problems of the first world, the utter absurdity of the following post is a major reason why i attempt to stay as fucking high as possible in order to forget or laugh off or accept the complete and total rubbish that modern life has become... i have usurped my working class roots and have become a privileged white boy, a Haus Frau with stubble, and somehow i must come to grips with it, how i don't know, somewhere along the line i've become a granola-eating tree hugger, not the annoying kind with twig headbands handing out pamphlets mind you but an animal concerned with his habitat, i do spend a large chunk of time thinking about how we're fucking up this planet, and so what else would i do but get on a plane (an industry that if it was a country would be in the top seven in carbon emissions) and fly off to some former pristine piece of land now owned and despoiled by the Hiltons or Hyatts or Helmsleys and chock full of faux-native restaurants and local talent singing island hits of the ages...

Now the casual observer might be sitting back and thinking to themselves, man this cat is one miserable motherfucker when in truth i'm not miserable or painting my toenails black it's just that mankind is a detriment to every damn natural thing around it, like the Midas touch but instead of gold we turn it to shit, you see as i was wading through the crystal blue Caribbean Sea i couldn't help but notice how warm the fucking water was, like abnormally warm and not just because all the tourists were pissing themselves in it, no this was something else... i then had a conversation with a nice couple who were from PR and they were commenting on how the sea floor had become so rocky in the last 4 months, that they had been there recently and it was nothing like this, the sad thing i told them was that a good bit of what was on the bottom was coral, dead coral which has been bleached and broken off it's reef, most likely due to the fucking water temp that was a few shades cooler than urine meaning it was about as refreshing as a golden shower (not that there's anything wrong with a golden shower mind you it's just not the sensation i'm looking for when stepping into the sea...) they nodded thoughtfully and looked a bit perplexed but that didn't stop them or me from continuing on our merry holiday in the sun, tortugas be damned... and i quite like those tortugas by the way...

Like i said, i think too much, i worry about shit and when i see the amount of waste and what not all in the name of pleasure it tends to either piss me off or bum me out, i wanted to write a letter to the lovely corporate offices of the Waldorf-Astoria hotel conglomerate about why it was that there was not one fucking recycling bin anywhere in sight? you see the El Conquistador is a Waldorf-Astoria resort, they won't let you forget that as you wander the grounds of luxury, you couldn't score breakfast in this place for under $80 for four people and that was the lowly and quaint cafe, the buffet would set you back 40 a head, champagne and caviar cost extra, still there were nothing but smiling faces and sunburned shoulders and the patrons danced to the music and the booze flowed freely, well almost as you could charge it to the room as easily as signing the chit, needless to say i didn't buy much booze though i did make my way to the local Econo market and scored a 12 pack of Medalla for slightly more than what a one beer  would have cost me from the bar, besides i had a balcony (pic to follow) that overlooked a lighthouse, bio-luminescent bay and quaint little fishing village so there was really no need for me to go wandering about if i didn't want to... and usually after a hard day of swimming with the boyos i didn't want to...

The fishing village mind you was a beautiful muse, i would sit and watch the happenings, there was a park right in the center and some food trucks, a few restaurants, past the park and docks was the village, tiny houses set into a green hill, the Atlantic to the left, the Caribbean Sea to the right, of course i thought of Santiago and his large marlin as i watched the skiffs bob in the cove, how it would be to live there among those hills, a bar at the back end of the park at the of the head of the road that ran up towards the houses, of course it was also the first place i figured i could score weed and alas i was wrong, i did score though, thus keeping alive my streak of finding gear in strange lands...

Oddly enough i didn't go searching for my medicine with my usual gusto, in fact after surveying the place i knew i'd have to go off site and once i got to the little village i kept a keen eye out for what i like to refer to as a friendly face... but there was nothing, that is of course until i found Luquillo Beach and wandered into what i like to call my natural habitat, a long strip of kiosks filled with bars and local Puerto Rican joints serving street food, bottles and cans littering the street, beyond the strip a gorgeous beach, the water deep and blue not ten yards from shore, Breadwinner's tool brother prattling on about how this was an "authentic experience", i was about to tell him he was a knob end but instead ordered a beer and went on the prowl for weed, it was while standing outside a pizza shop, a place owned and run by New Yorkers (and with great pizza), that i struck up a conversation with a sweet girl named Andi who's boyfriend Alex worked just down the way at the tattoo parlor which just happened to be owned by some people from the Steel City, i soon wandered down and told Alex that Andi had sent me and said "Hey Yinz" to the crew, he could hook me up but not for another hour or two and since the Breadwinner was already blowing up my phone and none to pleased with my shenanigans i made my way back towards the car, as i passed Andi she gave the thumbs up and i shook my head no and she then stopped me and said grabbed my hand slipping me the last of a dime that she had, she told me it wasn't much, a pinner most likely but at least it was something, she smiled and said it was the least she could do to help out the old degenerate stoner, (how i described myself when broaching the subject), i told her to tell Alex he's got a gem and to treat her right, dare i say i detected a note of jealousy from the Breadwinner, i laughed as i told her i didn't think 25yr old women with tattoo artists boyfriends are gonna run off with the suburban dad type but we can dream now can't we?

I like getting stoned, always have, the first time was 30 years ago this past May, the Nike Site Park in Parma, Ohio... these days i rarely go a day without toking, vacations being the only time i do at least until i score, the beauty was i looked at it as a good way to clean up for a week, i had that one joint and i waited until my last night in the El Conquistador - A Waldorf Astoria hotel, to smoke it, and it wasn't half bad... the next day i was swimming under a waterfall in a rain forest before 10am, but i'll get to that...

After that water fall i drove the brood into San Juan and once properly situated it was my job to take the rental car back to a hotel which was a short drive and 15 minute walk back over a low bridge with beautiful view of the ocean, i dropped the car and began my walk back when i noticed a little Vice Den, a place that sold nothing but cigarettes, cigars, newspapers, rolling papers, lottery tickets, a forlorn rack of snacks, and of course booze, booze you could drink right there and so since it was hot and there was a Punk Rock Girl behind the counter i bought a beer, $1 unlike the $5 for the exact beer at the El Conq. i loitered, you could say my Spidey sense was tingling, and so i stood and scanned the occupants and was draining my beer, i was getting ready to give up and head back when a young guy walked in, a waiter just getting off work, he bought wraps and headed for the door, i followed him out and politely asked if i could have a word, i told him i noticed he was buying wraps and that i really was looking for a place to score and could he point me in the right direction, he stopped and looked around and laughed and said come here and took a few steps away from the Vice Den door and it's patrons, i sell weed he smiled, fucking excellent i exclaimed, and then Vincent and i had a confab about the virtues of stoners and i bought some gear off him and threw in some extra as a tip, he told me how to find him if i needed more and we shook hands and off i went towards the Hilton Condado to gaze out at the Atlantic, i'd say the Hilton's were wrecking the place but it didn't matter, it was  nothing but hotels and condos up and down the coast, man was gonna fuck this place up regardless... typical hippie can't hold a grudge...(to be cont.)


4 comments:

looby said...

The old radar never lets you down :) What a contrast between the Astoria and the rest of the place. I thought for a moment this was going to be a nightmare about being trapped weedless on one of those "compounds" that they have in Jamaica and places like that (Lord -- imagine being without weed in the weed capital of the world).

I've never been in a warm sea. How odd that would feel. When we used to go to France it was "less cold", on a good day.

But wherever you go in the world, there's always that urge to explore the backroads and side streets isn't there? And the best things always happen there.

Exile on Pain Street said...

The people who have to proclaim it an 'authentic experience' are those least likely to experience one.

I went to P.R. once. It was much nicer than I thought it would be. My racist tendencies said it'd be no different than walking around the Bronx outside Yankee Stadium but, of course, I was wrong.

Looby. Alive and kicking, thank Yob.

Kenneth Noisewater said...

Part of the fun is FINDING the weed, right? It's always going to be a fun story, and this was no exception.

But wait, I thought you said you posted a view of your balcony, but I see no pictures.

Here's another thing I can't figure out: You use words like "rubbish" and "knob" yet you're from Ohio and other parts around the U.S., right?

Kono said...

looby- a too warm sea is disturbing, a warm sea is bliss, in a nutshell it doens't suck... i fuckin' love Jamaica (surprise) i was weedless there for almost all of ten minutes, when i went into town i couldn't walk five steps without someone offering me something, i bought some ganja cake, one of the best investments i've ever made... and i do love my backstreets, i like to get out and walk on my own, somethings the boyos don't need to know about their old man... yet...

Exile- don't forget W.25st and the hood in Clevo, way back in the 80's when i was in high school it was the first place i saw Spanish graffiti, PR is fucking gorgeous, i was just looking up neighborhoods to move ten minutes ago, i like island living...

Dr. Noisewater- finding weed is always part of the fun, the internetz gives you a head start these days lol, pics are coming if i ever get off my ass... and i use words from all sorts of vernaculars, i dig language and have a good deal of friends from/in the UK so i do like to sprinkle it in, but yes i'm Rust Belt born and raised, first Cleveland and now Pittsburgh, i like to think i'm a citizen of the world though, haha!!