On Monday, February 5, I flew north from São Paulo to Fortaleza, Brazil to meet up with Tiffany, my long-lost best British bud from Roraima. She had spent most of the intervening time in Venezuela and was now traveling south along the British coast and arrived in Fortaleza the same day. We met up pretty late in the evening, but didn’t let the fact that it was a Monday stop us from tearing the town to shreds.
Let’s set the scene for a messy reunion night. Fortaleza is a sprawling fishing port on the Atlantic Ocean, known for its wild party atmosphere and thriving prostitution industry. On the night in question, we first had a rather civilized dinner with Sandrine and Michael, a fun French couple Tiffany had been traveling with, who then retired early (i.e., around 1:00am). Tiffany and I then made the caipirinha circuit through the beachfront bar district, and ultimately found ourselves drawn to one of the more sedate bars that happened to be playing great music.
Now, I won’t make any suppositions about the professional backgrounds of the other patrons, but let’s just say there were about 34 rather young women wearing next to nothing and 2 somewhat older gentlemen. Oh, and Tiffany and myself.
Anywhoosie, as I mentioned, the place seemed a bit sedate upon our entrance – but didn’t remain so for long. Tiff and I followed the tried-and-true 9-point plan for turning any “boring bar” into “happening hotspot”:
1. Jump up on the bar and coerce fellow patron up there with you. Check.
2. Goad aforementioned fellow patron into mooning entire bar, while continuing to provide much-needed support and encouragement. Check.
3. Set the bar on fire. Literally. Check.
4. Cozy up with fellow patrons in front of resulting fire. Check.
5. Sneak behind bar and usurp DJ responsibility. Check.
6. Initiate “train dancing” throughout bar. Check.
7. Gyrate uncontrollably on top of the bar while holding up the ceiling. Check.
8. Fight off the inevitable swarm of paparazzi. Check.
9. Be sure to thank the doorman warmly for his hospitality. Check.
Tiffany and I slept soundly that night, basking in the sense of accomplishment of a job well done. Next time, we’ll have to also incorporate the “Bend…and Snap!”
Let’s set the scene for a messy reunion night. Fortaleza is a sprawling fishing port on the Atlantic Ocean, known for its wild party atmosphere and thriving prostitution industry. On the night in question, we first had a rather civilized dinner with Sandrine and Michael, a fun French couple Tiffany had been traveling with, who then retired early (i.e., around 1:00am). Tiffany and I then made the caipirinha circuit through the beachfront bar district, and ultimately found ourselves drawn to one of the more sedate bars that happened to be playing great music.
Now, I won’t make any suppositions about the professional backgrounds of the other patrons, but let’s just say there were about 34 rather young women wearing next to nothing and 2 somewhat older gentlemen. Oh, and Tiffany and myself.
Anywhoosie, as I mentioned, the place seemed a bit sedate upon our entrance – but didn’t remain so for long. Tiff and I followed the tried-and-true 9-point plan for turning any “boring bar” into “happening hotspot”:
1. Jump up on the bar and coerce fellow patron up there with you. Check.
2. Goad aforementioned fellow patron into mooning entire bar, while continuing to provide much-needed support and encouragement. Check.
3. Set the bar on fire. Literally. Check.
4. Cozy up with fellow patrons in front of resulting fire. Check.
5. Sneak behind bar and usurp DJ responsibility. Check.
6. Initiate “train dancing” throughout bar. Check.
7. Gyrate uncontrollably on top of the bar while holding up the ceiling. Check.
8. Fight off the inevitable swarm of paparazzi. Check.
9. Be sure to thank the doorman warmly for his hospitality. Check.
Tiffany and I slept soundly that night, basking in the sense of accomplishment of a job well done. Next time, we’ll have to also incorporate the “Bend…and Snap!”
1 comment:
Hey Mr. Rob, how many caipirinhas did you have to jump on top of the bar? lol
Cachaça is not water....
We have a song like:
"Se você pensa que cachaça é água cachaça não é água não, cachaça vem do alambique e água vem do ribeirão...."
Xoxo
Bruno Biccas
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