Quick Thoughts on San Juan, Puerto Rico and a Tribute to Hunter S. Thompson

Editor's Note: I read a Hunter S. Thompson book during my travels, thus the stylistic change in my writing for this post. Now I must read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to understand this drug and alcohol-induced man - who I haven't yet decided is keen or merely just f*cked up. Thompson embraces the excesses of life and wears it proudly - maybe him and I aren't so different....

After arriving in San Juan, Puerto Rico, I remain sober for only 20 minutes over the next 83 hours. This is no joke. I would wake up still drunk and go to the pool and drink about 5 cocktails before I ate my first meal at around 7pm. In fact, I only ate two meals a day - one at 7pm and the other at 5am after a night of libations at various watering holes.

You know you're headed for trouble when you walk into the hotel casino the same time next night and everyone knows your name - pit bosses, dealers, players, pimps, prostitutes.... Apparently, winning gobs of money, tipping big, and singing Enrique Iglesias songs makes everyone want to be your best friend. Not all of the people revered me - one guy sitting next to me (I vaguely remember) wanted to kick the sh*t out of me if I didn't shut up. I promptly sang into his ear and did the "Enrique" and he turned red and giggled. Another satisfied customer.

San Juan is trouble. I should've never stayed for 5 nights. Imagine doing Vegas for 5 nights. You can't. 3 nights is max before your body breaks down. Everything you could want that leads a guy like me into trouble can be found in San Juan: gambling, liquor, women, clubs, pool/beach cocktails, sunshine, waves....

It was on the 4th day that my body just shut down. I had ordered two drinks up to that point by the pool and was having great conversation about plate tetonics and the science of noetics with a 4 year old child swimming next to me when I just wanted to upchuck. Thus, I did what any reasonable man would do - I went to the bar and ordered another drink. I was halfway through when, laying in the fetal position in my pool chair, I began thinking about death and how awful it must've been for Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. That poor man.

I stumbled past the beautiful people, back into my room and slept for four hours until 10pm and still didn't feel well. So I got up, showered, poured myself a Red Bull Vodka and hit up the clubs. My mind and body didn't have to be in it with me, my heart would lead the way.

There would be repercussions. I got hooked up earlier - like a dog left at home with a new couch - when I was invited to a quaint party being thrown for Miami Heat guard Carlos Arroyo that was to be attended by Miguel Cotto, Felix Trinidad and countless beautiful Puerto Rican women. I'm talking maybe 100 people max and I slept through it. I'll give you the short version. I came back to the hotel from the bars at around 7am, saw the lights of the casino beckoning, and played until 11am. I went to bed until 10:30 pm, missing the event which ended at 11pm.

Truly, a tale of shame and degradation... if anyone had noticed.

Kevin A. Leu
February 16, 2010

R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson.

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3 comments :

  1. love this just found it posted on my friends page, and randomly found your blog. Hope to get to know you better, just moved to Hillsborough from Orange County!

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  2. Orange County to Hillsborough!??! Well, someone's not lacking in funds! Thanks for reading. I will write a post on caviar one day that may fit your needs!

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  3. Informative content, In bachelor party you can drink all night but between the beer and the strippers, wouldn't it be fun to have a few bachelor party games such as Despedida Soltero.

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