Blogs :: Bocas on the Wagon
I sit here as sober thoughts enter my head. I write and many find themselves on paper. The rest do not. Where do they go? Why can I not record them all? These other thoughts, these other memories. Gone. If I wasn't on the wagon, I would understand. Booze stole them away. But Jack, Jim, Jose, and James are not here.
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I sit here on a Friday night in an island town full of gringos, locals alike ready, some already starting to party. I'm reading Jack Kerouac, On the Road. He talks about a crazy life, with crazy friends often ready, most already partying. And I'm on the wagon.
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The "Chinos" are back! This is a good thing. Nicaragua had none. Therefore no Asian food. Mexico did. Guatemala did. Even Belize! And now in Panama. And just like in Belize, they own all the grocery stores in town. Which also sell liquor for cheap. But I'm on the wagon.
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These French might be stupid. I'm not making fun because they are French. I thought the point of a balcony, as designed, as shaped was to sit in a line watching the people, the traffic walk by. Not arrange half the chairs in a semi-circle, in the middle, blocking the sides including the door so I cannot leave without awkwardly stepping over them. It's not a deck. It's not a living room. I need to get off the wagon.
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Tonight I ate dinner at the nursing home. Reason why? It's one of the least non-expensive restaurants in Bocas serving "Asian Fusion". Of course it was no where near the price range of Zengo's, but definitely out of the price range of backpackers. So I'm surrounded by the cruising aged crowd instead. Daily budget gone, good thing ATMs like me, better thing I'm on the wagon: more more expensive dinners.
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It just dawned on my why there are an overwhelming number of girls, attractive ones at that, here in Bocas. Backpackers are cheap asses. I'm reading the local whats-up-around-town-at-night-where-are-you-going-to-party-we-hope-with-us magazine, flyer thing. Every night there is a ladies night. Sometimes multiple said nights at the same place. With this being the case, guys only need to by themselves booze and girls drink for free. Too bad, so sad I'm on the wagon.
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So those are some random wagon stories I wrote while not indulging myself in one of the largest party towns in Panama. There are more randoms to follow. I spent 4 days walking around, sleeping, reading, and not drinking leaving plenty of time for writing not so important, odd, weird, boring, entertaining stories.
party, Bocas del Toro, islands, Panama
Posted By:
Brendon
2/4/2009