So when I first came to Costa Rica, I had some rough moments adjusting to some of the changes that I experienced. For example…prior to coming here, I could not shave unless I had hot water. Now, I am happy if I have ½ a bottle of warm water and a moderately new razor. I feel as if I have done a pretty good job adjusting to my new surroundings…for the most part. So this weekend was the birthday for Agustin, my Tico dad. We had the other 400 members of the family over, tons to eat, drink, ect…. The party went off without a hitch. Everyone packed up and headed home and we all pitched in to clean up. Afterwards, I sat around and had a couple of extra beers (Bavaria Dark) with Agustin…tried to tell him about the time that I almost got kidnapped in Mexico, then we all went our separate ways to get some sleep. About 10 minutes after I got into bed……I could smell smoke. No big deal…cause I am in Costa Rica and I have now become pretty immune to the smell of smoke……even the smell of a smoldering fire does not bother me anymore. Another few minutes pass and I start to cough….that is when I knew exactly what was going on…the fucking neighbor. I have not written about my neighbor yet….because I was hoping that there would be no more “momentary lapses of reason” with her…….but I have come to the conclusion that stupidity is very much like herpes………once you have it, your screwed. I went outside and as sure as shit…..there she was, stoking the fire. Going back to my earlier statement……99% of the time….most things don’t bother me here……..but when the woman starts throwing plastic bags, bottles…..and two tires from her Suzuki Samari on the fire…….that is when I have to draw the line. This woman is at her house 23.5 hours of every day……..but yet she chooses to burn her trash only when I am at home. So far, my routine is to go outside and act like Charlie Chaplin…..waving my hands in front of my face and cough profusely……but apparently this woman could care less. Hell, she might be trying to kill the gringo next door by making his lungs bleed……who knows. This time……as soon as I get outside……I walk over to her and say……
“Listen, it is obvious that that you could care less about the fact that I feel as if I am doing a public service announcement about how to get out of your room when it is full of smoke….but when you burn plastic in your fire…..it really sucks. If I had to take a guess……I am thinking that you cut the circulation of to your brain……because the jeans that you are wearing are so tight…..your ass looks like a loaf of bread baking out of them. In addition, if I did not know any better…..I would think that your tits are trying to whisper secrets to each other…..because they are mashed together so tightly. I am not asking for you to pass the GMAT.......just don’t burn fucking plastic in your fires. There is a recycling bin literally 10 steps past the dead pony………..please use it.”
OK…….so those where not the words that actually came out of my mouth…cause when you have to tote a Spanish/English dictionary in order to get your point accross……the message is pretty much lost in translation.
My words were………” Please don’t burn plastic in your fires. There is a recycling bin literally 10 steps from here………..please use it.”
Ciao………
Ashby
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