The second day I was scheduled for a twenty-five minute sauna, followed by Thai massage and acupuncture. In short, this implied being cooked, beaten and stabbed. The sauna is pretty straight forward: cedar box at 130 degrees Fahrenheit just to soften you up before the massage. Fantat didn’t tell me that I wasn’t alone in the sauna. They stuck me with the Tea Bagger from Kansas. True to form, he didn’t think it was necessary to cover his man parts while he was in the sauna. For him, the Caribbean meant going au natural. Worse yet, while he was rearranging and scratching his package, he insisted on babbling about the oil spill in the Gulf being a hoax put on by the Hollywood-Leftist controlled media.

I hate dealing with gringos when they’re abroad. They always assume that foreigners don’t know the right way to do things, and they insist on babbling along about how terrified they are to have a native driver who drives on the left side of the road. This kind of shit really freaks them out. If there is ever a need to communicate with one of them, I usually let my wife handle it. But in this case, the woman felt some need to tell me about her politics: she was appalled by what was happening in the United States and declared that she and her husband, a tractor salesman from Kansas, were card-carrying “Tea Baggers.”