A bad time for jokes.

I´ve always had questionable timing, especially in tense situations...I think it stems from a lack of proper fear when it should be debilitating me or something. This is not to sound tough or anything, I think it´s a chemical inbalance, probably due to my parents drug use in the 60´s, 70´s and likely most of the 80´s. Anyway, I say all this because on my last night in Cartagena, a funny thing happened, sortof. So the Chiva stops towards the end at this seaside ¨discoteca.¨ The gimmick is that no one except people from the chiva are at said discoteca. This poses a slight problem because I somehow picked the geriatric chiva. THe median age must have been 60. Now, 60 year old Colombians are way more exciting that 60 old Americans but they are still 60. So i decide to walk along the completely dark and almost empty beach to a parked taxi with 5 tattooed Colombians drinking ¨Something Special¨ brand Scotch. I strike up a conversation in the most amiable way I know how and become the immediate life of their little beach-side bash. I announce that the seaside discoteca sucks and I want to know where people under 60 go on a sunday night. They tell me a club, I say good I am going to find a taxi. They say, here´s a taxi, lets go. So I grab the Aussies and we head to the club. Turns out the Aussies want a casino, having no fear of South American casinos, I say sure. and we change course for the casino. NOw , I know most of you reading this think getting in the car with the questionably shady (and possibly drunk) taxista is the part that I say something really stupid... you are right. But you are going to have to wait till tomorrow to find out why because my time is up at the Internet cafe. de Colombia, Jamescobar