There was so much friggin’ cool stuff that happened on this trip, I can’t cover it all, but I’ll hit the highlights and try to embed as much of the insights as I can remember. I’ll cover Day 1 now to give you an idea of how ridiculous it was.
I took the 6:15 am flight out of Orlando to Puerta Plata (via Miami); arrived in DR around two-ish. A couple of first impressions about DR: There’s a cover charge to enter the country (US$10) that they collect while you’re in line at customs. I didn’t have any cash on me and the guy actually kicked me out of line and told me to borrow it from someone. There were no ATMs and obviously they don’t take credit card. A super awesome dude (father of a family) gave me the ten bucks and told me not to sweat it.
Second thing is the power was down at the airport and it was brutally hot inside. When I say the power was out, I mean the lights were out and the entire airport was running via emergency backups and flashlights. It was something else.
I met Bobby Rio, one of the TSBMag guys, outside the airport. Also met three of the other attendees, Baby Style, Fling, and Gecko, all cool guys.
Baby Style: Nerdy kid with glasses who knew Bobby Rio from college. Baby Style was a complete newbie when it came to pickup, like he’d never heard of Mystery or The Game before.
Fling: Tall Chinese graduate student studying at an Ivy League. He was researching the sensory organs of insects (no joke).
Gecko: New Yorker doing some kind of big-time medical sales.
The villa we were staying at was in Sosua, a beach town about 15′ from the airport. Let me tell you about this villa. First off, there was an iron gate we had to pull back to drive up the driveway. Once inside the “courtyard,” the first impression you get of the villa is that it’s a fucking palace, and I took to calling it the Drug Lord’s Vacation Palace, because that’s basically what it was. We estimated it to be a US$5mil house right on the ocean. Rather than have me describe it inadequately, here are some pictures:
(Los Pool Party)
(Our backyard featured an el mar)
If you’d like to vacation in DR and want to rent a pimpass house, here’s the website.
Okay, next. We entranced the joint and were greeted by 4 local girls in bikinis dancing on the couches and two other guys sucking down beers and dancing with them. One of the guys was Mike Stoute, the other organizer from TSBMag.com.
Two of the girls walked up and pawed me, one squeezed my pec and the other grabbed my package. It was awesome. Bobby showed us our rooms (huge), I changed into some shorts, and hit the pool with a Presidente in hand. I felt like I was in a movie or something.
We spent the rest of the afternoon having a killer pool party. I met one more attendee, Hammer, a 22-year-old Princeton grad currently working for a startup.
It took me at least an hour just to get over the WOW factor of the Drug Lord Palace. I mean, this place was beyond awesome. Upstairs sex balcony, giant pool in the backyard, wooden loungers everywhere, a huge backyard, and oh yeah, the backyard ended at some cliffs and what I like to affectionately call the “ocean.” It was retarded.
A Kickass Pool Party and A Hot Dominicana
We started partying right away, but the whole time we conversed about a zillion cool subjects: game, attraction, dating, ex-girlfriends, blogging, work, etc etc. All of the guys were interesting to talk to and Bobby and Mike did a good job of subtly moderating conversations. We were free to change subjects or move on and do whatever what we wanted. I spent a ton of time in the pool talking about attraction and blogging with Stoute, Hammer, and a couple of the other guys. The pool party lasted until well past dark.
(Bobby Rio doing an in-field demo.)
The local girls danced with us and for us. At one point they delivered drinks and then made us dinner, authentic DR style. I couldn’t figure out what was going on, if the girls were hookers or what, because they kept doing stuff for us. Gecko asked the same question and wanted to know if they were fair game. Only one of them spoke any English, and none of us spoke Spanish for crap. Stoute told us that they were friends of his local contact…
The girls put on a lingerie show complete with lap dances. Seriously. It was hot. Were they strippers?? What the hell was going on here? This was the rock star treatment I only heard about back home.
I gamed up a tall, slender beauty, a girl named Lola. Again, she didn’t speak a word of English. I basically sat down on the couch next to her and started in with the flirty kino–hand on knee, stroking the knee, arms, and hair, rubbing her shoulders, etc etc. The only words I picked out were: novio, guapo, bailar. We danced several times together and she attempted to teach me salsa, failed miserably, although not for lack of teaching ability.
Lola led me down to the ocean and we made out in the sand at sunset. It was possibly the most beautiful scene I have ever been a part of…just recalling the image of the sunset, the ocean, and the hot chica nearly moved me to tears.
Clubbing at Cabarete Beach
Late evening rolled around. We put on some threads and hit Cabarete, where they have a bunch of cool beachfront bars. This is the place where tourists show up for a night out. We took over Jose O’Shay’s and lorded the dancefloor. Hammer, in particular, had solid dancefloor game. We all danced our asses off and were completely soaked with sweat by the end of the night.
Back to the house at 1:00 am. This is where things got a bit hazy because I was ripped, but we hit the pool again, swam, drank, and bullshitted around for a couple more hours. One of the girls got naked and pranced around the upstairs sex balcony. I’m fairly certain I got naked and wandered around for a bit. I stubbed my toe on the spiral staircase and bled all over the house. This was that special time of night where everything is just magical and everyone is happy and the party was a complete success.
Finally, the boys and girls settled down and began to pair off, wandering into the various bedrooms. One of the girls offered to get “freaky freaky” with Hammer but he declined. Pretty much everyone had some fun.
Fling and me were roommates, but I gave Fling my room so he could have some quality time with his girl. Me and Lola went upstairs to the reading room of Stoute’s master bedroom. Stoute’s room was massive, the size of an apartment, and it featured a long corridor that led to a reading room that opened up onto the sex balcony. I grabbed the comforter and some pillows off my bed and made us a little nest on the floor of the room.
I closed the deal with Lola. The sex was tame, nothing like my weekend in Daytona, although I thought it was interesting that we couldn’t verbally communicate with each other at all. Hey, I guess we communicated via the universal language of love! Yes, I used a condom. It was a hell of a night.