July 4th, 2011 11:46am — Oh, the Sex!

While traveling, pious girls sleep around, and girls that have had sex a few times in their lives become raging whores. Men typically jump on anything that has a vagina, and intercourse is conducted everywhere. Usually backpackers sleep in dorm rooms, and it's not a fantastic experience to try to fall asleep hearing people having sex in five out of the eight twin-sized bunk beds. 
At Aqua Lounge, I met a lovely, fun bunch of girls, all of whom were traveling alone, with the exception of two Canadians. There were the two Canadians, an Austrian, a Brit, another Canadian, a Californian, and an Aussie. While the Aussie had attended college and I assume must have been capable of a more extensive vocabulary, eighty percent of the time she spoke one word: "Standard." 
When I presented Seanog to her, I did so by introducing his raging, infected ear.
"Dat pierced it a few nights ago with a needle. It took about fifteen minutes and four holes in his ear. The giant leprechaun on steroids filmed the event. Seanog cleaned it with Vodka and figured that the salt water is good for it, despite the fact that some guy's constantly pissing in it and there are beer cans floating around everywhere."
"Standard," she said, as she shook Seanog's hand.
Add a Kiwi and a couple of British guys into the mix, and we had ourselves an attractive, enchantingly incestuous group. Wonderful people, no sarcasm. It was like a traveling sex ring reality show on HBO. When my male friends had parties in high school, they'd play porn on the living room television. A nice sound and visual for the background, clearly. In a week in Bocas, I saw more penises and sex than I did throughout all of those high school parties combined. 
One night, a few people and I went out on the pier to catch a boat from Aqua Lounge across to La Iguana bar. I saw people having sex on the pier. I knew both of them. Another time, I got lost and ended up in some random-ass rancid Panamanian alley in Bocas Town. More people having sex, the girl with her back up against a brick wall. I knew them too. 
Fornication happened in the ocean, in other people's beds, up against trees, on buses... I saw a couple escorted out of a bar for almost having sex on the dance floor. I hadn't thought anything of it when I saw his penis flapping around. I lived in San Francisco for five years and thought this guy was putting on a show. I'd seen such things many times in downtown SF. My favorite naked man experience was watching seven men on small podiums on Market Street doing penis windmills. Turns out, this guy in Bocas was simply drunk. He wasn't trying to draw attention to himself, he was just trying to stab it into a chick. Even after he was thrown out of the bar, he still hadn't tucked the old schlong away. A few of the elderly walking past the bar were horrified, but I was just impressed with the guy's persistence. 

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