Reasons why not to get drunk in Cuba...
Okay, so Steve just called me from Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, where he currently is stationed with the Coast Guard. Of course, I asked him how he was doing, what he was up to, the usual... Instead of answering me right away, however, he got kind of quiet.
Turns out, the night before he had gotten really obnoxiously drunk, and one of his buddies decided to throw fruit juice on his feet in revenge. So what could a mixture of orange and pineapple juice do to offend someone, aside from the obvious, "Hey, my shoes, you bastard?!" Well Cuba, evidentally, is home to many rather large (3' long) "mean" iguanas. They like to eat fruit. Later, when it was time for Steve to leave the wonderful tiki bar he had been frequenting for the majority of the evening, he found himself cursing and running (or really, I am told, "wildly stumbling") back to the base with several hungry iguanas in hot pursuit.
I did not stop laughing at him for at least three minutes after he related this story to me; it would have been longer, I think, if it weren't for the fact that he was paying over a dollar a minute to talk to me. Oh well.
I am amused.
Turns out, the night before he had gotten really obnoxiously drunk, and one of his buddies decided to throw fruit juice on his feet in revenge. So what could a mixture of orange and pineapple juice do to offend someone, aside from the obvious, "Hey, my shoes, you bastard?!" Well Cuba, evidentally, is home to many rather large (3' long) "mean" iguanas. They like to eat fruit. Later, when it was time for Steve to leave the wonderful tiki bar he had been frequenting for the majority of the evening, he found himself cursing and running (or really, I am told, "wildly stumbling") back to the base with several hungry iguanas in hot pursuit.
I did not stop laughing at him for at least three minutes after he related this story to me; it would have been longer, I think, if it weren't for the fact that he was paying over a dollar a minute to talk to me. Oh well.
I am amused.