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)