Please Sir, Poison Me No Further
So here a few quick observations on life in Grenada. First of all, all of the public buses are actually privately owned vans driven by brave, heroic, reckless driving enthusiasts who barrel across curvy jungle roads at top speeds. And to enter one of these busses often I find myself at the main bus depot in "town", Grenada's largest town, St. George's, well, that is time when I really find myself thinking, "damn, this IS different, I am definitely in a different culture". As the way of hopping into the bus is a dramatic crowding of the door and piling in as quick as can be, you snooze you catch the next bus pal.
But in other news, I went out clubbing here in Grenada on friday night and it was a wild time. For starters, we went to a small local club in the village of Windsor Forest, where there were hardly any women. So some guy decided that winning us over was his project. He bought me several drinks, but after the first sip I noticed that this was most likely a glass of pure jet fuel or battery acid. Upon discussion with my hosts I found that this was a substance called Rivers Rum from a small distillery in the northern part of the island. I had to pull together a scheme composed mostly of tossing the liquor on the floor so I wouldn't seem too rude and also, so I wouldn't die. The fun didn't end there, we were lucky enough to keep on clubbing until the wee hours, at a club called Fantasia that was full of serious dancing. All in all, we had a great time but we thanked our lucky stars to be alive because the later it got, the more our friend who was driving us around felt that he was driving a plane that could lift off of the dark and treacherous roads and into the sky with just a little more speed. Phew! Thanks Grenada for showing a girl a good night out! some junk
But in other news, I went out clubbing here in Grenada on friday night and it was a wild time. For starters, we went to a small local club in the village of Windsor Forest, where there were hardly any women. So some guy decided that winning us over was his project. He bought me several drinks, but after the first sip I noticed that this was most likely a glass of pure jet fuel or battery acid. Upon discussion with my hosts I found that this was a substance called Rivers Rum from a small distillery in the northern part of the island. I had to pull together a scheme composed mostly of tossing the liquor on the floor so I wouldn't seem too rude and also, so I wouldn't die. The fun didn't end there, we were lucky enough to keep on clubbing until the wee hours, at a club called Fantasia that was full of serious dancing. All in all, we had a great time but we thanked our lucky stars to be alive because the later it got, the more our friend who was driving us around felt that he was driving a plane that could lift off of the dark and treacherous roads and into the sky with just a little more speed. Phew! Thanks Grenada for showing a girl a good night out! some junk
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