Hang 10 dude! World Surf Games 2009 Day 2

Hang 10? More like hang over. Actually just a slight headache, but I head to the store anyway to pick up some agua. Since I am low on cash I have been using my credit card for just about everything. I am not going to use my credit card to buy 1 water, so instead I bought 3 waters, and gave 2 to the hot Israeli chicks in my hostel. I don't know why, but something about Israeli girls really gets to me. Oh yeah, I remember. It was the Israeli girl who I dated in Lithuainia who tore my heart out. She was pretty much the only girl during my whole stay in Europe, that I had any kind of feelings for. She was unbelievably fine, and she was in school to become a brain surgeon. I had plans in the back of my head to marry this girl. I did find it strange that she always hung out with 2 girls from Lebanon, a country which her country was at war with during the time. Anyway, she ended up using me to jump her way up to a higher profile American basketball player named Reggie Freeman, who was an all american at Texas. She then used him to get to Tanoka Beard who was like the Shaq of Lithuanian basketball. I never heard from this girl again after I left Lithuania, but if I had to guess, she is probably living with Pau Gasol in L.A. plotting how she can get to Kobe. Anyway after giving the Israeli girls the water, things became kind of awkward which is usually what happens when you do something nice for a girl. Anyway, I caught a ride out to playa hermosa again with Denis and his crew. We ended up getting a traffic ticket for jamming too many people in the car, which ended up being about a 2 dollar fine. The surf games were pretty much the same thing as the day before: some people surfing and a bunch of fine women prancing around on the beach. At least that is what I saw. I ended up hanging out with the El Savadorian surf team for a while. They had driven 28 hours in a van to get to the competition and they were pumped up. I talked with the sponsor of the team quite a bit and he was also impressed with the female fan turnout. He then pointed my attention to a lady directly in front of us and asked me how old I thought she was. I claimed I didnt know, maybe 18. He told me that she was 15 and it made him wish that he was 17 again. I agreed that she was the hottest 15 year old I had ever seen. After letting the pediphile vibes pass, I took a few pictures with some of the El Salvadorian surfers (this guy with the mask asked first) and went back to find Denis and the crew. They were doing what almost every guy was doing this afternoon, drinking beer and looking at girls asses. I could only take so much of this, so I told them I was going to buy some beer. I never went to buy that beer, but I did run into a gringo girl I had met last night. After watching her smoke with some Ticos and playing some imaginary volleyball, I headed back to the competition to find my crew which by this time had abandoned me and gone back to San José. I was perfectly ok with this, except for the fact that these guys were my only access to a camera, so sadly there will be no more shots of flip throught the surfgames escapades. Since I had ignored most of the people in the hostel the night before, I made up in my mind that I was going to be extra friendly tonight. I also made an executive decision to limit my drinking, as past experiences have taught me, when I drink heavily, bad things happen, very bad things. Papas and Burgers, the restaurant who Tony the guy I met yesterday mentioned, is right next to my hostel, so I decide to go and try out a meal. I go in and start talking to the waitress, an attractive gringa, and ask were is Tony the owner is. She told me that Mark is the owner and he is standing right over there. I explain to her that some bald guy named Tony told me that it was his restaurant and apparently I was lied to. Tony is actually a guy that does construction, and I had a feeling I would see this guy again. I got the Picasso burger and it was bloody awesome. After the meal I headed back to my dorm room where I was greeted by a guy dressed in a wifebeater named Jermarín from the Dominican Republic. Since I had just eaten, I had to turn down his invite to go get dinner, but I told him we could kick it later. I had a goal to be more social, so I went up to the kitchen where there were two fine Swiss girls and a Brazilian guy who was all about trying to convince these girls to go play pool with him. Later I would meet a Chicagoan named Derrick who would label those chicas the "untouchable swiss girls" because of all the guys they ignored throughout the week who wanted to hang out with them. Back down in the lobby someone was blasting some old school Ini Kamoze which I had to go check out because it is one of my favorite jams of all time.

Turns out there was a party in the Lobby between Wilson, the Tico hotel keep, Chapo the hotel surf instructor, and Adaim a half gringo, half dutch guy, who didnt work at the hotel, but was there almost all the time hanging out and trying to pick up the euro chicks who came through. Eventually Adaim, I and Jermarín the Dominican would go out to a club called Ganesha (named after the Hindu God who is the remover of obsticals, not the scrawny indian in the IMBA program.) Jaco was much calmer on this Sunday night, because most of the Ticos had returned to San Jose. I was taking it easy, but Jermarìn was determined into peer pressuring me to drink heavily, and Adaim was already drunk. Jermarín quickly found a group of 3 tica girls who were all sharing a cocacola. I had a bad feeling about this 3 headed coke drinking monster, and as soon as they finished their soda they were asking me a Jermarín to buy them smirnoff ices. Jermarin pretty much begged me to pitch in and of course after the drinks were bought, it was an all out dance party. And whenever there is a dance party, there I am busting out the splits and hurting myself. I told myself I wouldnt do the splits again but I did and ended up causing a bruise on my knee that lasted weeks. At least the pure hilarity of Jeramìn in his wife beater and Adaim's drunken dancing eased the pain. Watching those two dancing idiots go crazy while some random guy who wasnt dancing at all came in and took the girl they were trying to woo with their moves, was priceless. I wandered off and bumped into a guy from New York who told me that I needed to be dominating these girls with my size. He also gave me the best advice I received all weekend "Watch out, if a girl here is not a hooker, she is a hooker" So taking that advice I did an about face and approached the two most obvious hookers in the bar and started talking to them. They tried to get me to buy them a beer even though they both already had full drinks and I wasnt even drinking anything anymore. I told them I didnt want their services and asked what kind of bullcrap friendship requires me to buy someone a drink. They agreed with me, and then we all went to the ladies bathroom and took some pictures on her camera phone, until some lady busted in all angry, got in my face and asked me to leave. I have never felt so unwelcome in a women's bathroom before. When I got back to the dancefloor I was getting a lot more attention than before and everybody was trying to take a picture of me when I wasnt looking. I would find out later that Jermarín had told everybody that I was Michael Phelps and I didnt want to take pictures with anybody. The night ended with Jermarín unsuccessfully trying to convince the 2 heads of the 3 headed coke monster who hadnt left with some guy, to come back to our sweet hostel to party. When we got back Adaim tried sorting out some earlier drama that occured with one of the Israeli girls, while I downed some milk and had a bonding moment talking to Jermarín about how dancing and buying drinks almost never pays off. I then demonstrating to the other Israeli girl how I busted my knee doing the splits, as she was clearly impressed, and went to sleep.
(Editor's note: I will not write a conclusion to this saga so if you want the conclusion plese ask me in person)

Hang 10 dude! World Surf Games 2009 Day 1

I wake up early and make it to downtown bus station by 7 a.m. in time to make the 7:15 bus to Jaco, but there is one problem. The explosive diarrhea that has manifested itself in my system has politely asked me to buy the ticket for 8:30. So I'm like ok Runs you win, and I go to the McDonalds baño to let my friend go free. While I was waiting for the bus, I came across a young man originally from Wisconsin who was working at a call center in San Jose. I picked up a strong gay vibe from this guy, so even though my gay radar has been faulty at times, I tried not to get too friendly. The bus ride was pretty uneventful apart for the friendly fat girl sitting next to me sharing her gumdrops with me. Sometimes fat people eat everything in front of them, but this lady felt compelled to offer me some of her rations even though I had not said one word to her. This seemed like a pretty normal occurrence at the time, but would actually lead to an important cultural discovery and a bit of deja vu on day 7. When I got to Jaco I immediately walked to the Hotel Haan which is my preferred destination when I stay in the town known for its surf and prostitutes. Luckily they had an extra bed left in the dormitory. After checking in and borrowing some of my dormmates Africa scented Axe deodorant (Stop judging me, you know you have done it. It was a spray can and I just got off a long bus ride, and Africa scent is not what you would expect) I headed to catch the bus to Playa Hermosa. After asking around to find where I could catch this bus, I hopped on only to come to a dead halt just minutes later 3km from Playa Hermosa in a giant traffic jam. At this point the people walking on the side of the road are passing us, not to mention the guy riding on horseback while simultaneously rolling a joint. After an hour long 2 mile bus ride, I finally arrived at the World Surf Games, aka "Try to hide my boner" Olympics. Seriously, there were so many fine women at this thing that it was very difficult for me to get any kind of concentration on the actual surf games. However, I did manage to watch the games at some point and here is what I observed:

1. The female surfers don't look anything like the chicks from the movie Blue Crush. The lady surfers were not nearly as attractive as the spectators, except for maybe Puerto Rico. One of the girls surfing for Puerto Rico was hot and she was a bad ass surfer too. At least I imagined she was good because I really have no idea what makes a good surfer. Actually, I really don't even know if she was hot because she was out in the ocean the whole time, and these old eyes can't see like they used to.

2. To hell with Hawaii!! Not only did Hawaii field their own team apart from the U.S. team but they also brought their own flag with their flag carrier hit me in the face with it. Last time I checked Hawaii was a state so why did they bring this US-UK cross-breed monstrosity of a flag?

3. Anytime there is an excuse to drink during the middle of the day, Ticos will take advantage of it. The beach was packed with people partying and not paying any attention to the games. And any time there are people drinking, there are also people who want to take pictures with the extremely tall man, sometimes without even asking.

4. This thing apparently was a bigger deal than I thought. Teams came from Ireland, Japan, South Africa, Australia, etc. Every continent was represented except for Antarctica.

After a while on the beach I headed back to the stage area which would be the future performing area for several mediocre local performing acts. Actually there was a one guy that was a pretty good gangster rapper. While I was back in this area a gringo with his shirt off named Tony walked up and started talking to me about what most people talk to me about: how big I am. Tony informed me that he has been living in Costa Rica for 18 years and after getting out of jail is now rich again. He told me to come visit his restaurant, Papas and Burgers and told me that I should come ride on his boat. Mid conversation, I get interrupted by Denis (pictured right) a guy I met playing pickup basketball in the park last year. Denis works for HP and hung out with me last year when I went to Jacó. As Denis temporarily leaves, Tony, a man with a tatoo on his head, calls Denis a shady guy. I defend Denis, but I think Tony had a good point. Anyway, minutes later I would end up joining Denis and his crew and commenced to drink. I am making an honest effort to cut back on my drinking, but the choice is never easy. Either I can be sober, unsocial and safe or I can drink, be the life of the party, and put myself and everybody around me in danger. I always try to find a happy medium but it never ends up that way. So of course I started to drink, and eventually ended up like this------------------------------------------------------> And when I end up like this, I end up doing things. I can't remember everything, but I can remember the stupid things. Things like picking up prostitutes and holding them over my head, or riding on the back of an ATV doing wheelies in the middle of a street with a random Tico without a helmet. I do remember being incredibly scared which leads me to believe I was not that drunk if I feared for my life. I also remember there being a bunch of women of all ethnicities all over me, and I was constantly getting cockblocked by members of my own team. The last thing I remember was talking to a random girl on the street before starting my own survey on the street in spanish: (me translated) Hey hotdog guy, who is prettier, this girl or me? (hot dog guy) "She is prettier" (me) "Wrong, I am prettier dude, duh." At this point team cockblock grabbed me and made me walk back to my hotel. Maybe it was not such a bad idea.

Hang 10 dude! World Surf Games 2009 Day 0

I felt compelled to right about my 2 weekend trip to the world surf games. Day 0 is pretty boring, but I promise the action will pick up in the future posts.

Estar de chicha = to be in a bad mood (costa rican slang)
Usually I am a pretty optimistic guy, but at this point, estoy de chicha, because I am broke, my roommates are broke, and my low paying baskeball job can't support everybody. Now I live on this mountain pictured below, so I should have no reason to complain, right?

Yet I am on the verge of depression because I spend my days, jobless, in the upper floor of a house built by hippies wherein I must squat down a full foot to take an icy cold shower or sit in a chair to cook on our world class electric burners. So as I sit in the house on a Friday night listening to my roomate complain about his financial situation, I make a bold declaration that I am going to Jaco tomorrow. After my roomates try to talk me out of this dangerous journey, I say "me voy" and head to bed.