Santiago, Dominican Republic
We left the next day for Santiago and I wasn’t very happy about it.
I was under the impression that we were heading to a smaller town called Gasper Hernandez to do some pioneering. It’s a short distance away from Puerta Plata on the coast and from the people I met and spoke with, very few tourists go there which makes it the type of place I’d like to check out.
Also, I wanted to see Josefina again. Very much.
She was thinking we were going to meet up soon and instead I was texting her that I was leaving unexpectedly.
20nation and THC had decided they wanted to get to Santiago for the weekend.
Back on the bus to Santiago
Caribe tours once again had a cheap price for a comfortable ride and it passed by without much incident.
When we arrived it was the typical chaos of 5 or 6 guys yelling “taxi amigo??”
We got into one guys car and the first thing I have to say, is that Santiago is so much cleaner and pleasant than Santo Domingo. The taxi drivers all have much nicer, better maintained cars.
We told him our modest budget and that we wanted to be by the city center if possible.
We go to a seedy hotel that doesn’t have any room and then head to the next place.
We went to one hotel that didn’t look too bad. The rooms were big and pretty nice. They had a big two bedroom set up for about 2500 Pesos and one big room for 1500.
Something that has been getting on my goddamn nerves for sometime now is how it’s just assumed I’m going to take the more expensive accommodation.
“We’ll just share this one and Fisto can have the single”.
Yeah fuck me! Go ahead!
Now I’m sitting there unable to help notice that I’m paying twice as much as the place I just left, THAT I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE because of these two and their last minute plan changing and now I’m also paying twice as much as they are simply because they feel entitled to the cheaper accommodations.
Is that ok with you Fisto?
But inwardly I’m seething. Is this even appreciated or at least acknowledged?
While 20 is handling the negotiations I can pick up a little of what is being said, the guy sitting behind the desk is arrogantly explaining that we have to pay another 1000 pesos or something if we bring back a girl and then points to a piece of paper with the rate on it as if he’s unable to change this at all.
This is after we have already agreed upon a price.
This puts me at 2500 pesos (about 60 bucks) for a piece of shit hotel.
It’s like this all over the DR. You think you’ve negotiated a price and then they come up with this extra bullshit so you’re back to where you started. Oh it’s a dollar extra for ice! (It’s not quite THAT bad but it feels that way)
I’ve reached my point of tolerance for this and say “Fuck this!”
I walk outside with my luggage.
I do not have a plan other than I am unwilling to reward this fucking prick with any of my money.
20 and THC come out irritated with me for losing my temper.
The taxi claims we owe him double because he had to make two stops even though the two hotels are right next to each other.
I am fucking livid.
We tell the guy that’s complete bullshit, pay him and tell him to fuck off.
He has the nerve to try and get us to let him take us somewhere else.
I turn my back and start walking down the street.
And that is when we run into…
There’s a taxi across the street, we cruise over and I glare off trying to calm down while THC and 20 talk to this guy.
He is dressed in long shorts, wearing a v neck tshirt, has his hair in a pony tail. He’s wearing a nice watch, necklace, and shades. His car is well cared for and pretty nice by Dominican standards.
He is patient, and when he isn’t sure about where to go, he stops some guy walking on the street and asks him.
They both talk for a moment and he thinks he knows where the place is that’s being recommended.
His name is Quento, and while I don’t know it yet, I am about to get to know the coolest motherfucker I have possibly ever met.
He drives us around patiently looking for the hotel, we do some u turns, ask some people on the street, do some more u turns and finally find the hotel.
It’s a little place in what looks like a rough area, but it’s clean, it’s walking distance from the Monument (city center) and is cheap. 600 pesos for the single room, and 1000 pesos for the same two room one unit set up as before. This place is the best value for money I’ve seen yet.
I am waiting for Quento to say we owe him extra for all the running around but he never does. Instead he tells us to call him if we want a ride later and says “enjoy”.
We decide we are going to call him later. “That guy was cool” we all agree.
After some settling in we are ready to roll out. RVF member Rover recommends a place called Level.
We call up Quento and he is there in no time.
He takes us to Level but there’s nothing going on. We call him again, and again he is there.
We ask him what we should do?
He says he knows of a place.
We say let’s go, and stop for some beers along the way.
We go to a colmado in a somewhat rougher looking area.
I say “we should offer to get Quento some drinks also”, this is readily agreed with.
We come out with some grandes (large bottles of beer) and start drinking in the little park area in front of the colmado.
Other men keep coming up to Quento to shake his hand and say a few words like he is the “Don” or something.
He patiently listens to everyone. This is what I will remember most about him. He is laid back, doesn’t let things get to him, and just chills.
He handles things the way I wish I handled things.
We drink beer with him and chill in this park. People want to meet us and he introduces us.
We finish the beers and say we are ready for the club and we all pile into his car.
He starts driving and says he’s taking us to his house.
We get there and it’s this nice little setup. He’s got a stylish two story little condo or something. It’s clean, tastefully and comfortably decorated, and in the living room he has a massive speaker setup.
Keep in mind it is around 12am.
He wakes up his mom, turns the speakers on full blast, and introduces us to his whole family.
Dominican music is on full blast.
We are in our new friends house and we are appreciating not just this gesture, but this experience.
His mom is a little old lady and she is very sweet. She is half awake but also happy to meet us.
His daughter is also half asleep but she listens to her father when he tells her to do something.
He tells us his son is away but will be back the next day.
Quento doesn’t look it, but he his in his forties.
We get back into his car and head over to a massive club in his barrio (Buenas Aires) called Lovery.
We go inside and order some shisha and presidentes.
It’s mostly couples and people sitting at little tables but it’s a good vibe. We are in good moods, I have even managed to rationalize my meltdown at the hotel as being the reason we met Quento.
THC by sheer luck, has picked a seat that winds up being right next to a cute girl. Her friend is fat but not in a dumpy way and has a cute face. I have not had enough to drink to lower my standards to that level yet so I am still on the prowl.
The trouble being, there isn’t much that is single and attractive. There’s a lot of hot girls, they’re just with their boyfriends.
Some older guy that is sharing THC’s Girl and her plump friend’s table is staring at THC as he escalates with murderous hate.
I continue to drink. And drink.
Finally, I see two incredibly sexy girls sitting a few tables in front of us.
One girl is wearing a red dress and I would bite through a piece of steel I want her so bad.
She looks back and makes eye contact with me. Then looks away.
The fat girl starts talking to me.
I am disinterested but when she comes right in front of me and starts shaking her hips and puts my arms around her waist, I am viewing her somewhat differently.
I look for the girl in the red dress but she isn’t in her seat.
I dance a little more with the fat girl and I am somewhat embarrassed to be seen with her.
I am also getting a somewhat involuntary boner.
I look again for the girl with the red dress when THC comes up with his girl and says “We’re leaving she’s ready to go”.
I look for the girl with the red dress, desperately hoping for a reason not to go home with this fat girl.
I look down at her face and I am thinking “She’s actually kind of pretty”.
She has pretty blonde highlights in her hair. I am wondering if I would think this without beer goggles on.
“No don’t think that!” I urgently tell myself.
I know I’m going to just throw it out there and I hear myself saying
“Hey they are leaving and so am I, come with me”.
Inwardly I clearly remember hoping she will decline my offer but she is all for it.
I look for the girl in the red dress again and she is staring dead at me as I say “Ok let’s go”
Son of a bitch…..
We walk out and enter a cab after some brief negotiation on the price.
I take this girl home a bang the ever living hell out of her.
She’s got soft skin, feels great, and is tight as hell.
I wind up smashing her about 5 times between us getting home and the next morning.
She takes it like a champion.
I am relieved when she finally goes.
It’s not that I feel guilty for banging a fat girl, I don’t (actually I would categorize her as “full figured”). She passed the boner test.
It’s the economics of it all. To have one thing you have to give up another.
Could I have hooked up with the girl with the red dress instead?
Goddamn she was sexy.
Even now I’m missing that perfect ass.
You only remember girls with perfect asses when you don’t get them.
So many times I’ve been smashing some gorgeous girl saying “You gotta remember this!” to myself only to have those memories be blurry or gone.
After the girls leave we get up and head out around the city center walking around.
I have to say, I really was enjoying being in Santiago.
Tune in for the next episode. More Quento, and I go to Jail!