May 23, 2011

Never Trust A Peruvian Asian

Guess where I am? I’m sitting in a cement soccer field. A cement soccer field that we were supposed to pay to get into, but we just jumped the fence. Whoops. So what’s up with me the past couple of days... Hmmm. So the group went to a restaurant to eat some din. We ended up leaving one because it was far too expensive. So we were bombarded by an army of Peruvians to come into their establishment. Screaming, and throwing their menus at us. We all finally picked one (after Jesse saw hamburgers on the menu...) We walked up the stairs to get there, and to our surprise it was only us in there. It’s a rule of thumb to not eat at places where there aren’t any people because you don’t know if their food is fresh or not. Anyways, we said screw it. Jesse accidentally brought a different restaurant’s menu up with us, but the server said that it was alright that people ordered off of it. We all took our orders, and while we were waiting for our food, a man off the street selling his paintings came up to our massive table and tried to force his artwork on us. I almost yelled some profanities at him. After five minutes he regained some sense, and left. We then noticed a man with bagged food go into the kitchen. So apparently the people who ordered off the other menu got take-out from a different restaurant. That sure was a treat. So we all got our food, and then to our surprise (not) a group of men walked right up to where we were sitting, set up a bunch of instruments, and serenaded us with their flutes and drums during dinner. I hated every second of it. It was so loud that we had to scream at each other to hear anything. They finished up, then asked for tips, and to buy their C.D. I spat on their shoes.... I didn't actually, but I wish I did. We then booked shit out of that sketch-pot restaurant.


Oh, I have another food related story. So Nicole, Ryan, Emily, Rik and I decided that we were hungry for Chinese food. We all ordered, and everyone got their food except for me. Just my luck, right? So Nicole went up to the server and asked if it was coming and if I could get it for free since I had been waiting for 45 minutes. He agreed, and took my order for the second time, then asked if I wanted it for take-out, so I said yes. I finally got it, drenched it with soy sauce because we didn't have any at our house, and to my surprise I found a ripped up piece of paper place nicely on top of my food. I think they didn't like me. We got our bill and oh joy, I still had to pay. Nicole then started to stick up for me in Spanish. 20 minutes later of arguing with the owner, they took my food away, and yet again, we booked shit out of that sketch-pot restaurant. The story doesn't stop there. Emily and I left to go home, and everyone else went to the pharmacy. Nicole realized she had forgotten her purse there, and endured a walk of shame back to the fancy establishment. They held her purse for ransom for 15 soles. The price of my meal. Apparently they were angry I soaked my food in soy sauce. Angry that they couldn't resell the food to someone else. Nicole paid the price, and Ryan told the owner to "go fuck her mother." I feel like it was necessary to pay the 15 soles, just so he could say that. I was content. Note to self: never trust a Peruvian Asian.


So latest news in the life of Taylor James, I have a parasite. I've been feeling like pure shiet for the past week and a half, and decided it was finally time to call the doctor. I think it was a good idea to call him since I woke up with a swollen tongue, and could barely talk. So I paid 60 soles to see him, and he told me my throat was red, and that the symptoms I have concluded to me carrying a parababy. So he prescribed me with some drugs that I paid 35 soles for. I hate wasting money on drugs when I could be buying 2.50 sol burgers. Maybe that's where the parababy came from..


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I don't want to upload pictures. The parababy is kicking and I need to have a nap. Sorry kids.

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