Prostitution Report
from Costa Rica

Got to CR on Monday afternoon. Braulio, my taxi driver, was pretty sure that he could hook me up with his 19 year old female friend---things were looking up. Wandered into the Presidente ready to go,but the room was being cleaned. So, i padded over to the bar/restaurant and asked for a beer in my best high school Spanish. A few minutes later, Eddy the mesero, returned with an espresso, which is not actually Imperial, the local beer of choice.Quickly realizing that somebody f-ed up, Eddy was quickly back in no time. Things were looking better. Got into the and asked Jorge, the bell dude, the directions to the chicas. Up until this point everyine had been saying to be careful but at 2:30 in the afternoon, I felt fairly safe. I went around the corner and up the block to the pink palace kknown as the DelRey. I entered the same door as the girls, only having to fend off Chiclet salesman. Since it was in the afternoon there weren't many people, a handful of gringos and twice as many chicas. I sat at the bar and ordered my first of many Cuba Libres (cuba should be free for the amount of drinkin' I did that week) Within seconds, the chica to my left, a solid 4, asked in Spanish if I spoke Spanish. I replied un poquito y tu? which is a little and you? which eventually sunk in as a joke. Witin seconds we were negotiating price and i also mentioned my Things to Do List. Numero Uno was two chicks at the same time doin' the nasty. She said that wouldn't be a problem, she had a girlfriend right there. Sure enough, the girlfriend looked about a 5.5 on my Richter scale,somewhat affected by my trying to singlehandedly free Cuba. Now, on to the serious negotiations. We went from a $100 a throw to $40 each in no time at all. Thank you Senor Giacomini for making me study my numbrs back in 8th grade. Forty was music to my ears. I'd spent much more on interne dates without the possibility of getting even getting a goodnight kiss, if I'd even wanted one, I do have standards you know. So, off we were to the Presidente with them chattering away and me kinda tagging along behind. I got a little apprehensive when we entered the lobby, expecting at the very least a few sidewards glances a gringo pandejo or two. But, nothing happened, the bellman pulled out the register book, the girls got out their ID's, I gave him the room number and signed and off we were to room 417. Next thing I knew wass that the 3 of us were showering. I was informed that many gringos smell, but i was okay in that area.

On to the bed for a little foto shhoot. Turns out that the girls were not only interested in me but even much more in a soap opera on TV called Rosalita. So, as one worked the other one watched and since I had opted for the performance package (bbbj for additional $10 each, my interest in Rosalita waned. Somehow I thought that two at once would be better than this. Eventually they ot down to business, commercial break I guess, but unfortunately Killer, known as Matador in the southern climes,was suffering an anxiety attack. All the while the big head not remembering that the little head could have been chemically enhanced. So,the girls now had their work cut out for them. They stroked and poked, and did everything their young minds (20 and 26)could think of. Eventually, I thought that a target area should be established and Lilli volunteered her very Latina face. Strange as it would seem, just having a goal in mind gave the little fella the spurt that he needed, and we all lived happily ever after. That is except that I never did find out who the hell Rosalita was.

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