THE ACCIDENTAL JOHN

Age 22. I had planned on a cheap beach vacation with a friend in Cancun Mexico at a resort said friend was great.  

2 days before the trip, said friend had to cancel due to his tyrannical boss who threatened to fire him if he took the trip. 

I paid for my plane ticket and room. I was going, he agreed to pay his share of the resort. 

If you know anything about me, it’s that I’m like a cactus. I need very little care & feeding. I’ll find fun if I want it and I’m fine solo as well. 

So I’m in my little seaside Mexican villa when there’s a knock at my door. Housekeeping?

Me: Hello?

Marta: Hola. Escott?

Me: Si

Marta: I am Marta. 

Me: Hola Marta

Marta: I’m a friend of Mark.

Me: Oh. No way! Cool. He’s not here. He couldn’t make it. 

Marta: Si. He tell me.  He tell me to come see you. 

Me: Oh. OK. Come in. May I get you something to drink?

Marta was around my age. Maybe a year or two younger. Very pretty. Nice. Dressed  like a tourist. Red & white tank top, white shorts & sandals. 

She nods. I pour her a tequila on the rocks and open a beer. I practiced my Spanish, on her, which in previous years was much better, but mostly broken by 3 semesters of college Italian.  Whatever the case, we had a good time. We ordered room service, listened to music, laughed and ultimately had sex most of the night & the following morning.  I ask if she wants to go to breakfast

Me: ¿Quieres desayunar?

Marta: No gracias. I gotta go. 

Me: OK. That was really fun. What’re you doing later?

Marta: Si. Canjusigndebeezaaleeep?

Me: Huh?

Marta tries a few more times to get the point across and I still have no clue what she’s saying, then I see it.  It’s a a credit card receipt. She was trying to say “Can you sign the Visa slip”?

Mark had gotten me a prostitute as a thank you gift for my understanding for his bailing on the trip.  

While I’m no choirboy, I had never paid for sex before (and still haven’t) I was kind of shocked. I tipped her well with his money. 

I really thought I was doing well with her too. 

And scene...

Language Barrier in Rome

Me in Rome in Piazza Farnese after a fashion business event with an Italian model, 2 editors & 2 designers. I'm the only American. Lesson: Don't pretend to proficient in a language that you aren't. 

Italian girl: Amore, do you need me to help you with the menu?
Me: Um. No. I took 3 semesters of Italian in College. I think I can handle ordering dinner. 

We finish dinner and one of the designer guys says to me.

Him: "EhScott, that was a very adventurous order for an American".
Me: You think? What was so adventurous?
Him: Tell me what you theenk you order.
Me: (In what I believed to be a perfect Roman accent) Bisteca di Cavallino Tartufo Bianco.
Him: And thees ees?
Me: Steak with white truffles.
Him: Eh... you meess a word.
Me: Doesn't Cavallino mean "With white truffles"?
Him: Eh. No. Eet means a baby horse.