Jamaica Mon!

Hi there. I've just returned from a short biz/vacation trip to Jamaica... all I keep thinking is I don't know why anyone would go back for a second visit, unless they like to smoke weed.

Seriously, Jamaicans are the slowest people on earth, and I have to wonder if it's because they are all stoned.

Take their customs agents...they have ten or so booths, but only 3 people working, with over 200 people trying to get into their country at the same time...to spend lots of money! Why not staff accordingly instead of making your visitors stand in line for 2 plus hours in a hot stuffy room? This is a no brainer. Make the newcomers feel welcomed and comfortable and they will return. And yet, the Jamaican's don't seem to care.

Once you are through customs and have proved you are not smuggling any small birds or rare plants in, you have to wait for another hour or more for a shuttle ride, even if you are going to the Ritz! No one cares if you requested a town car four days in advance for a particular pick up time... they'll get you when they get around to it. Sit and wait in the heat, drink your Red Stripe and be happy Mon!...not so much.

Let's move on to the Grand Bahia Principe...an all inclusive...ooooh..."all inclusive" another term for crappy buffet food and watered down drinks. Even the restaurants on premise sucked. For three days I ate the worst food on this planet and had no other options, cuz it's too dangerous to leave the resort.

I will give the Grand Bahia points for nice architecture and a big pool with lots of activities for the thirty and under crowd...and that's where the kudos end. I arrived at the front desk in an open air room and the heat was

oppressive as I waited for the bellman to go to my room to see if it was ready...I got into my room and they were just finishing cleaning it...which was fine, except the soap had been rewrapped and was damp

...gross. They do not supply cream rinse...in a country where the humidity stays at about 80%...The toilet seat was broken and the AC and lights go out when you close the door to leave, which means your clock resets, your room gets warm and you can't charge your phone or computer unless you are there. If you ask for a 7am wake up call, expect it around 7:45. And the saddest part of all was they dressed their employees in long white shirts, vests and ties and they were sweating like hogs! For the love of God people, throw a nice golf shirt on them and some shorts and call it a day!

When my town car arrived to steal me away from the Grand Bahia to the Ritz - I wanted to cry.

The car was clean, cool and had champagne waiting in it with my girlfriend. We drove to the Ritz and the place was gorgeous, air conditioned through out and the food and booze rocked the party that rocked the party! Go Ritz. Worth every penny. The staff was dressed for the weather, they were efficient, very friendly and went out of their way if we needed something, like help.

The pool was fun and the beach was adequate...our driver took us into Hip St. in Montego Bay and we had drinks at the Bob Sled Cafe, shopped and

gambled. The gambling is coin slots only. No doubt the funniest thing was when my girlfriend dropped a hundred dollar bill down the wall (by accident) and it landed behind the pinball machines on the lower level. I heard her scream my name and reluctantly I went over to see what her issue was...looking thru the crack down the wall I saw the lone hundred dollar bill and promptly tore ass downstairs, bowled over a kid and grabbed the bill out of his small needy hand.

On the way back our very nice driver, Warren, a resident and self proclaimed Jamaican chef, took us to a local joint called Mobay Proper, where we had us some proper Jamaican soup and beans. Very tasty, and sweaty, cuz we sat outside and watched the Olympics on a sheet they hung from a tree. Yeah Mon!

Back from another excellent adventure...

So many funny things happened on this last vacation, it's hard to know where to start. There was the super-duper fat woman behind the fried dough cart in Boston. I think her purpose is that she serves as a warning to others.

There was the creepy hunched over guy in Ptown who followed us one night in the pouring rain and looked like a character out of a Hitchcock film as he ducked in and out of the steet lamps.

There was this really wierd guy in a bar who icked us out so bad we just left full drinks and went on to the next place. Then there were all these people who resembeled their dogs, and, oh yeah, there was this half-girl with no legs or arms that people were pushing in a baby carriage and she was sun burnt to hell. We firgured she couldn't talk and wasn't able to ask for some sun screen. I know it was so wrong, but we laughed anyway. I agree, we're bad people for that. But you know how it is sometimes when reality is a bit too harsh. We were sitting at a bar looking out the window when the half-girl passed by for the second time, and well, one or the other of us had to finally say something funny to take away the desparity. What are you going to do when you know you can't laugh and all you want to do is bust up? You've all experienced it at some point, ya know milk shooting out your nose, or laughing in church when its so quiet. Retard jokes and cripple jokes have been around a long time. That's all I'm saying.

Then there was the pig. But I won't go into that one.