Saturday, September 9, 2006

The disasterous consequences of imprudent behavior

lj-music: Deltron 3030

So we´ve finally made it to Costa Rica. Our journey was a nightmarish parade of lunatics with poor boundaries experienced against a background of perpetual discomfort.

We rode the MAX to the airport on Thursday, entertained by a dreadful young specimen of post puberty attempting to covertly masturbate. In retrospect, I regard it as an appropriate (however innappropriate) omen of the bitter frustration, inconvenience, and intermittent horrified disgust to come.

We had little difficulty obtaining seats for the flight, probably because everyone else with the barest shreds of common sense took one look at the copious amounts of black smoke eminating from the engine of the plane and opted to recieve hotel vouchers and board on Friday. We were delayed for about four hours, and finally made it to Atlanta at about midnight. Luckily we found a pizza place that would serve us beer until 3 in the morning, when we curled up in some suprisingly comfortable armchairs, serenaded by the melodious sounds of homeless people bickering about whether or not one of the involved parties was amenable to the proposal that he shut the fuck up before the second party was compelled to beat his ass.

With bated breath we awaited the morning, when we badgered at least four different airline employees to make sure our luggage was loaded onto the plane, and redeemed our passes for our tickets. By the time we passed through security, the resteraunts were serving beer again, but we were too tired to care and instead passed the time guzzling coffee (me) haunting the poorly ventilated smoking oubliette (Bobby) and frequenting restrooms liberally festooned with the urine of strangers (all aforementioned).

The Three hour flight to San Jose was the only sleep either of us enjoyed (word used for convenience, and by no means meant to be interpreted literally) and upon arrival learned with no real surprise, although with extreme ire, that my suitcase had been lost.

The San Jose airport is populated entirely by people who would really like to help you. No, Really. Would you like to use their cell phone? Do you need to get somewhere? Their brother can give you a ride. There! In the pickup truck. See? He is waving! He is so happy to meet you! He can take you anywhere! You have a ride? Who is getting you? Them?! No, no. Sorry, but they left an hour ago! Of course I am sure. He is my cousin! But don´t worry, my brother will take you. He is the one in the No Fear shirt with the eye patch, and this is my other cousin here, the one with the very long fingers. Hey! Where are you going?!

The van from our hostel picked us up, this place is shockingly cool. The hostel has its own pool, resteraunt and bar, and after wandering around in a tropical rainstorm for a few hours looking for a few necessary items of clothing and toiletries, we sucked up our exaustion and joined a tatooed thug with a gravelly voice and a penchant for casinoes for about three hundred beers. As the night wore on, we made many new and lasting friendships with people whose names I cannot quite recall at the moment. Today we are waiting for my bag to be delivered, and then we will tentatively approach the town, and timidly wander out upon it.

More updates when something actually happens. The beer here is realllllly cheap, and despite the loss of any and all clean clothes, shampoo and soap, we´re having a really great time.

- Emmi

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