what happens in the d.r. stays in the d.r. part 2…

yeah...they make them like this down there...

so you decided to come back…great…

when we last spoke, our protagonist (me) had scratched off the letters of his moral compass and was on his way into the murky depths of the dominican muffin shopping district…

the first thing i learned is that there is a difference between a disco and a night club…both spots have “merchandise” for sell but the night club is like going to the sock aisle to find a new pair of socks while the disco is like trying to find some serviceable socks from your dirty clothes hamper…

in addition, although the black media mafia (i’m pretty sure that doesn’t exist but i thought it sounded pretty menacing so i couldn’t throw it out) would have you believe that places like the d.r. cater mostly to black dudes with a little ding-ding extra money to blow…i can say that we were outnumbered by about 3 to 1 by the middle-aged europeans…and every continent was represented…well…except antartica…but that’s probably because brazil is much closer…

the first stop was the cristol night club…it was like the dominican player’s club…the curtain of chicks that met me at the door assured me that dominican dolla bill had sounded the alarm when he heard my air maxes beating up the block…i literally couldn’t get more than a couple of feet into the door before i was surrounded… i hadn’t felt that wanted since that time i wandered into lenox mall during gay pride weekend…pause…actually stop…

the lighting was dim but i quickly recognized the grip of warm booty cheeks attempting to pat my pockets…those cheeks were attached to a rather booger wolfish employee and the grease from her back side left a stain on my soul…knowing that i had no intention of leaving any pesos behind, i decided i should escape…

next stop was the disco club 59…known as classico by the locals…another dimly lit spot with very friendly patrons and some odd couples that should’ve reassured the dominican people of the health of their economy…

the final stop was the night club la passion…brighter lights and friendlier staff, this was definitely the target of the d.r. lady shops…i was escorted to a stool, handed a glass of black label and a menu…after allowing my eyes to roam around and examine the life-sized pole ornaments, i decided i had earned some chicken strips…so imagine my surprise when i picked up the menu and there was no food in it…just a list of services and durations…the waitress made her way over to me to ask what i would like to order and i replied…….

would you look at that…i’m out of characters for today…sorry…

of course i won’t confirm or deny whether or not i purchased “socks”…but what i will say is that as a result of my night out on the town i am now familiarizing myself with the rules of baseball so i can cheer on little roberto rock (with the rolling r’s) in a few years and soaking in a warm penicillin stew 2 times a day…

real talk…the d.r. is definitely not all about working girls…it’s a beautiful country with beautiful women (thanks to the homie j.l. for the preview) and some good-hearted fun-loving folks as well as taxi drivers that will kidnap you scoop you and carry you around for the entire weekend…

so shout out to domingo the driver and the travel crew anotonio sosa, beastie mcnugget, mr. 6 years ago and the casablanca assassin…

elrock…that’s my story… y mi atengo a ella…or something like that…

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About usbottlesandfriends
The tales of unpredictable truths from those guys your mom warned you about.

2 Responses to what happens in the d.r. stays in the d.r. part 2…

  1. Rod Dailey says:

    yeah, the D.R. is a good look.

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