This is a town that gives hippies wet dreams. They all know it too. That’s why they’re all here. That’s why they’re selling their useless trinkets in the streets along with jewelry, home-made sandals and tie-dyed cotton clothing . That’s why they’re juggling and playing the bongo’s in the streets. They have arrived at their Mecca and they don’t plan on going anywhere.
I can’t blame them. Beach, waves, cheap housing and a good party scene. There’s just one thing missing. One very important thing.
There is no sun. I arrived to overcast skies hoping it would get better. The next day it was more of the same. I talked to one couple that had been here for a month and a half and they have had one clear day. My idyllic beach scene had turned into a farse. I spent the day reading in a hammock occasionally staring up at the sky silently cursing it. With no other reason to be here I packed my bags to leave beneath another overcast sky spitting down rain.
Don’t Deny It. You Have Asked Yourself This Question
We have all thought it at some point in time. Wondered the number or maybe even tried to imagine it. It’s the reason a lot of people take the comforter off of the hotel room bed. We have all asked ourselves the same question.
“How many people have had sex in this bed?”
That’s right. Don’t deny it. You’ve asked it to yourself. Just imagine the scene:
You’re in your hotel room. Maybe you just climbed beneath the covers. You’re settling in for the night after dinner. Maybe your about to turn on the tv or turn out the light for the night when the question hits. You shudder a little bit and then push the thought out of your mind as your turn out the lights taking comfort in the fact that at least your sleeping on clean sheets – you hope.
I can’t be the only one who has asked myself this question. I think I’m shuddering a little more at the moment by not having to ask myself this question. That ageless question has been answered for me. Answered literally by the writing on the wall. Ok, maybe the writing on the door; close enough. I’ve counted no less than 14 couples names written and dated on the door of my current hotel room. Most with hearts drawn around them and one with the tragic words ‘Honey Moon’ written next to it [shudder]. I’m not going to fool myself by thinking this is an exact or maximum number. I know this would only be the minimum but at least I have a starting number that begins to answer this age old question.