The perfect pit stop

March 29, 2012:  Time has gone by really fast the past few weeks.  I arrived in Georgetown with the intention of getting all of my documents and visas in order so that I can continue forward with my trip, attempting to do it here since English is their primary language.  I also need a little break from moving every few days to a new city as I did when I was in Brazil. 

I have been trying really hard to discover the beauty in Georgetown, but I am struggling to do so. Georgetown seems to be a noisy horn ridden dirty hole that is lurking with an oversupply of taxi drivers barraging you everywhere you go.  In mobs they stand in front of stores, restaurants, banks or anywhere there is a large group of potential victims.   

My hotel is above an extremely popular establishment called Jerries bar and restaurant.  It seems to be THE place to be for those with an aspiring career to one day become a professional Karaoke singer.  With 9 too many Karaoke nights a week, I am happy when those individuals in their 30’s to 40’s park their cars that resembles a teenagers vehicle more than a adults.  Equipped with huge speaker systems, the noise effectively drowns out the singers from 10pm to 4am - causing most car alarms in a 50 meter bass blast zone to chirp or scream in anger due to disturbing its sleep.  From the neon lights, to the creative stickers plastered on the vehicles windows, ranging from a giant window sized $100 US Dollar to ones saying such things as “Hard Cash” or “Gigolo” makes me feel sorry for the woman with such a questionable gene pool.

Perhaps the limited gene poor is why some women are in desperation mode to outsource, using the most horrid pickup lines, making me question their true profession even though they are dressed like Jackie Oassis.  A good example would be when I was walking down the street with a 1-liter of soda and a girl stops me to ask, ”Are you going to drink that alone?”  I smoothly stuttered, ”Ye – ye – ye- yes.”  Another time was when I was looking to cross a busy intersection in the middle of the day and a girl says, “Were you looking for me?”  Not meaning to sound rude, but I put my head down, quietly saying, “No, just the building over there.”  I am just not use to woman who use dialog straight out of a pornographic movie.

The parade field across from my hotel is home to a few handfuls of drunks that have occupied the bleachers.  The pleasant aroma in some way reminds me of an open pit toilet that nobody has bothered to cover.  The soil is being nourished daily by the natural fecal fertilizer deposited by the cats, rats, dogs and men that live here or just passing by…making this field probably the most fertile spots in the entire city of Georgetown and quite possibly the country. 

With all of these things to say about Georgetown, I still think this is a perfect pit stop for a week or two.  When you don’t feel pulled to do anything in a city but to walk and get something to eat and perhaps see a movie now and then, there couldn’t be a better place to relax and catch up with my writing.