After a surprisingly painless 7 hour bus ride from Boquete, we arrived in Panama City. We had even made reservations ahead of time and decided that we would bite it and splurge in the city. So we got a $90 hotel room. The cab pulled up, we went into the lobby, the issued us key cards (Key cards!) and then we went up to our room. We hit one of the beds as we opened the door and I swear to Buddha we were back in the Boulevard, except that there was no hot water, and no cable. We were afraid to open the closet door lest a dead prostitute should come falling out. Talk about a major fucking buzzkill. So we went down to the lobby and listlessly scoured the internet fantasizing about our next stop.
The next day we went to the canal, which was actually really cool. A lot cooler than we expected it to be. We watched a couple of ships go through. I tried to get Mona to "wink from afar"* at the passing sailors but she refused. I really don't understand her hesitancy... she didn't have that problem with the raft guides.
After the canal we went to Casco Viejo which is a rapidly gentrifying part of Panama City. For those of you not familiar with the term, "gentrification" is the process of fixing up an urban neighborhood. The process generally involves replacing the poor, colored people with rich, white people.
Later, in an effort to avoid the depression-inducer that is our hotel room, we went to a mall and sat in air conditioning until we could avoid it no longer. When we went back to our room, we found that it had not even been cleaned, so I went down to the desk to ask what exactly our $90/night was going to if we didn't even have hot water, cable, maid service or a decent room. The guy manning the counter was a complete and total douchebag that literally laughed at me and basically told me that I was too stupid to even know if there was hot water or not, cable or not, or could tell if the room had been cleaned. The exchange that ensued was an indicator that my enraged, arguing Spanish has really improved. We went down again about a half an hour later when the manager was there and the dillhole didn't even have the decency to pretend he wasn't an asshole and continued to berate me. As I looked dumbfounded at the manager, he told me that the nutsucker wasn't even really an employee there, but that he was "helping out." In-fucking-credible. The dicklick actually charged me from across the room. I don't know who's cock he's licking to work there, but there is definately something going on. I got the owners contact information and you can all be assured that I will follow up with a strongly-worded letter. That'll show him.
If you are ever in Panama City, don't ever, ever stay at the Costa Inn. It's a dump. I will take my mouse roar to every internet feedback site I can find.
We landed in Bocas del Toro earlier this afternoon and after avoiding a scummy gringo trying to get us to pay $60 for his windowless concrete room, we found an amazing hotel with a spectacular view. I just might, maybe someday, become a half-way civilized person again. Give me a couple days.
*Wink from afar=Code for "show'em your tits!"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment