this is a true story.
Just look at me. How well they trained me. And now I'm stepping into a tropical "paradise" only "paradise" to us is code-word for third world country. But I hardly notice the underfed and malnourished flock of children to my right because the color of the parrots and perfect aqua waves entice me in such a way I can't break away from it. Left speechless, this is one of those times I'll feel nostalgic about years later, and I will. But not because I've witnessed something beautiful, but because a long time ago I was trained and conditioned to associate these tropical things with room service and tiki-themed poolside bars. Vacationing to it's fullest. I'm trained so well the indigenous people hadn't even crossed my mind. I'm sipping on fruity mix drinks without a care in the world while the people who actually call this little US territory home build their houses from straw. I look back down the beach, to the dozens of lawnchairs & people in them, before being thrown into the hard reality that is all eyes on me, and a brown little native man loin-clothed and bleeding next to me.
There's a brown little native man bleeding to death on your towel and you only notice after you realize everyone on the beach is staring at you. Oh god. Not only will your face forever be recognized as the girl who left that Puerto Ricaan man to die as she tanned, but now you have to journey five stories up to your room to get another towel, cause some fuck had to bleed on this one. Oh how well they trained us.
The disapointing part of this, is all you get to leave with is a killer vacation story, and maybe even your face in the news if you're lucky. Every tourist wants a piece of the bleeding man, this is even cooler than a shark attack. Meanwhile, a Puerto Ricaan man gets bandaged up in a straw hut hospital and all he can think about is how foolish it was to actually think that mutilating himself would get him sympathy change, even if he'd seen the scam work before. Tourists are so gullible they'll give charity to self-inflicted wounds, and all he had to do was hangout around the resort with an "injured veteran, need $$$ for meds" sign and a flesh wound. Works like a charm, as long as you know how to cut away the flesh w/o making it suicide. Fuck up and you end up hospitalized after nearly bleeding to death because your kids are hungry and you're desperate.
Just look at me. How well they trained me. And now I'm stepping into a tropical "paradise" only "paradise" to us is code-word for third world country. But I hardly notice the underfed and malnourished flock of children to my right because the color of the parrots and perfect aqua waves entice me in such a way I can't break away from it. Left speechless, this is one of those times I'll feel nostalgic about years later, and I will. But not because I've witnessed something beautiful, but because a long time ago I was trained and conditioned to associate these tropical things with room service and tiki-themed poolside bars. Vacationing to it's fullest. I'm trained so well the indigenous people hadn't even crossed my mind. I'm sipping on fruity mix drinks without a care in the world while the people who actually call this little US territory home build their houses from straw. I look back down the beach, to the dozens of lawnchairs & people in them, before being thrown into the hard reality that is all eyes on me, and a brown little native man loin-clothed and bleeding next to me.
There's a brown little native man bleeding to death on your towel and you only notice after you realize everyone on the beach is staring at you. Oh god. Not only will your face forever be recognized as the girl who left that Puerto Ricaan man to die as she tanned, but now you have to journey five stories up to your room to get another towel, cause some fuck had to bleed on this one. Oh how well they trained us.
The disapointing part of this, is all you get to leave with is a killer vacation story, and maybe even your face in the news if you're lucky. Every tourist wants a piece of the bleeding man, this is even cooler than a shark attack. Meanwhile, a Puerto Ricaan man gets bandaged up in a straw hut hospital and all he can think about is how foolish it was to actually think that mutilating himself would get him sympathy change, even if he'd seen the scam work before. Tourists are so gullible they'll give charity to self-inflicted wounds, and all he had to do was hangout around the resort with an "injured veteran, need $$$ for meds" sign and a flesh wound. Works like a charm, as long as you know how to cut away the flesh w/o making it suicide. Fuck up and you end up hospitalized after nearly bleeding to death because your kids are hungry and you're desperate.
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It's probably for the best anyway considering I came down with Strep Throat after that weekend. You're lucky!
~Trilo~