The building of Hotel Mopan was very much a coral color, if you will. It reminded me of many of the establishments in Miami, Florida. Naomi and I made it up to our room 202, on the second floor. Naomi has many talents, but opening hotel doors is not one of them. After several minutes of him struggling to put the key in like an impotent geezer, I finally snatched that ho away from him and opened up the door myself. To be honest, I really had no idea what to expect. I was well aware of the fact that we were in a third world country and thus decided to keep an open mind. All that mattered was that it was clean and that there be some form of air ventilation. My wishes were granted. Albeit a very simple set up, the Hotel Mopan was equipped with a well tidied room and a fan overhead to keep from sweltering. Give me a liquor store and I would be good to go. Before I could make my liquor run, the first order of business was to visit Banana Tree's old high school and make a public appearance. Queen Jemima suggested Banana Tree, B-More, Shoniqua, and Yours Truly to be the ones to visit the little Caribbean nuggets. I soon would regret this decision.
Malibu drove us in a delicious pick-up truck to Wesley College, an institution that houses young teenagers of Belize for their middle school education. As we walked through the gates towards the outdoor assembly that was taking place, I noticed that all the delicious multi-shaded chocolate children donned white uniforms. To be clear, there were no off-white or eggshell colored outfits. These clothes were white like marshmallows. I felt blinded! It was truly amazing to see so many little nuggets like a little army of heaven just glistening in their perfectly washed, white attire. I, of course, was blithely unaware of the fact that I had selected a tiny purple tank top to wear that afternoon with straps thinner than Nicole Ritchie with the Bird Flu. To be frank, my titties were out! I was practically was showing nipple. I didn't become aware of this until I saw all of these matching conservatively dressed Caribbean children. I felt slightly insecure at that moment but ultimately came to the conclusion that the nuggets probably didn't notice me. I was only there to simply sit and observe while Banana Tree made his speech.
Banana Tree was introduced at the assembly and quickly came forward to deliver a very inspiring speech about persistence and being studious. He talked about the fact that he too came from that same school and through motivation and hard work ended up to be in an American company thriving, doing what he had always dreamed of. After he finished, he introduced our boss, Queen Jemima. This is where things took a turn for the worst. She started off by introducing each of the additional members of the company. Keep in mind, my titties are still on display. "Please welcome Shoniqua!" she said. The audience of Caribbean nuggets modestly applauded as she approached the podium. I took a sigh of relief at that moment. I realized that these children were quite conservative. They wore uniforms after all. Thus, I felt that they would not to much more than gasp at my on display breasts. I need not worry about being set on fire. Queen Jemima than introduced B More who was greeted with the same response. "Last but not least we have Brown and Thin" she introduced me. I, as modestly as possible, approached the podium to join my co-workers. As soon as those young girls saw my tits, it was absolute pandemonium! These Caribbean nuggets completely lost their shit. They jumped out their seats and began screaming like they had just found out that their vaginas could spit out one hundred dollar bills. I was, of course, completely appalled. With my head slightly down, I waved conservatively as I adjusted my titty top to conceal my right nipple which I had realized was making a break away. The young girls kept clapping, screaming, and jumping up and down. "Am I Michael Jackson?" I thought to myself. After several awkward moments, the insanity finally died down.
Queen Jemima clearly saw an opportunity from this foolish display of affection. "Let's have a dance contest!" she exclaimed. She invited up several audience members to the stage. Queen Jemima was having some difficulty getting people to volunteer. She is a very smart, business savvy woman, and when she sees an opportunity, she seizes it like Angelina Jolie. "If another girl comes up here to volunteer for the contest, Brown and Thin will dance for you!" she said. This is when the diarrhea began cultivating in my intestines. For the record, I was way too sober to be dancing in front of a crowd. It was eleven in the morning for Christ's sake and my buzz from the airplane was long gone. But alas, I jumped up on that stage and dropped it like it was hot (which it was by the way, it was at least 90 degrees outside). The nuggets went crazy. I think I saw a pair of panties fly past my head at one point. Quickly afterward I rushed towards the exit to avoid the mob of hormone driven Caribbean children. I safely made it inside the pick-up truck. Malibu drove us back to the hotel.
After successfully evading the Brown children of the corn, I made it my first priority (as I always do when I travel) to track down some hard liquor. Through Banana Tree, I learned about a delicious establishment called Brodie's which is supposedly the Caribbean equivalent of WAL-MART with the additional bonus of a wide selection of spirits. Naomi was game to go with me because of the fact of him being an alcoholic. The two of us paraded down Albert Street towards the establishment. The two of us bitches were completely overwhelmed with the variety of adult beverages that Brodie's had to offer. Naomi did not hesitate once he found a bottle that read "Extra Strong Rum". Upon further examination, I noticed that there was no alcoholic percentage or proof printed on the label, not to mention it was only five dollars. This was a red flag for me. Clearly this was an incredibly "urban" bottle of rum. The kind of liquor that will get you feeling tipsy rather immediately but probably tastes like gasoline. I chose a slightly different route. I figured "when in Rome....." So I purchased a bottle of genuine coconut rum which is over double the alcoholic content of Malibu with a delicious flavor of coconut. I grabbed that ho off the shelf and Naomi and I made our way back to the hotel.
I served myself my first libation in the glass that I had also purchased at Brodie's. I enjoyed my coconut rum with just a splash of coke. It was pure heaven. I could barely contain my excitement. Once I moved onto drink number three, Naomi suggested I try some of his ghetto liquor. After just a whiff of that stuff, I felt like I had been slipped a rufie. After just a small taste of his beverage I thought I might follow in the footsteps of Courtney Love. This "extra strong rum" was absolutely blasphemous. It tasted like WD40. After just one taste, I returned the plastic cup to Naomi and put that ho to rest. I finished the rest of my third libation instead. I blacked out soon afterwards.
Amidst my slumber, in my state of inebriation, I had no clue what would happen the next day as I woke up in my second day in Belize. I am glad that I was ignorant to my future for the fact that craziness was about to ensue. I thought that I had been through the worst of it by almost being mauled by the children of the corn earlier in the day. Only the Lord knew my true destiny. Apparently Jesus was about to get ready to test me. And he waited until my Caribbean arrival to do so. Stay tuned to find about the desperate antics that followed my copious drinking.
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