There I was; fifteen, on vacation, and drunk.
As I was dancing with a beautiful dark-skinned Dominican girl at a bar; an hour past midnight; somewhere in the vicinity of Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic – she asked me if I wanted to meet her friend.
Of course I want to meet your friend!
Turns out her friend was a 7 foot tall 7 foot wide pimp.
I was very, very, very drunk – a clear understanding of how utterly hammered I was is imperative to properly appreciate the precarious position I was in.
I have flashes of stumbling around, following them outside in the dark. I ended up at a casino, her pimp left for a moment to buy some drugs or something.
I remember some talk of cocaine.
Anyway, when he was out of sight, I split.
At incredible speed, I took off.
There I was, running away from the casino; towards where I thought our resort was.
The resort at which the rest of my family was sleeping.
Two girls from Nova Scotia found me laughing and wandering – they brought me back to the hotel.
I recall having a drawn out and in-depth conversation about our lives; though the exact nature of our discussion was lost before I’d made it to my room. Dominican rum will do that to you.
The moral of the story is that if you’re ever lost and drunk in Puerto Plata; you get abducted by a pimp, taken to a casino to wait for cocaine; and then escape – random girls from Nova Scotia will make sure you make it back to your hotel in one piece.