I came to Haiti looking for trouble. I found it…
Monday night was one of the most dramatic nights of my life. Read on for the sex & violence…
I stumbled out of the pub, oblivious to the imminent danger. It was my second night in Port-au-Prince, the archaic capital of Haiti. I was in Petionville, a rich suburb a world away from central part of the city I was in the night before…
My first day in the capital, I moseyed a few kilometres south of the bus station into a ghetto north of Champs de Mars. The place was leveled, with the facade of a post-apocalyptic war zone. One of the buildings left standing, a unstable three story structure hunched in the middle, had ‘hotel’ painted on the wall. I checked in. My room was a roach-fest but I was right in the heart of ground zero. On the streets, people gawked at me like I had two heads. Much of the roads were a maze of open sewers, lined with rubbish and hundreds of hawkers selling anything they could. On several occasions, I even saw women just hunch down, and purge themselves right by the roadside. Many crossroads have become massive dumping grounds, where massive piles of filth have accumulated in hills several metres high. All this, to a backdrop of endless make shift camps and rumble.
That first night, I recklessly wondered the streets of one the most dangerous places on earth. Groups of suspicious looking men would stare at me in silence as I walked past. “Salut!” I´d say, and be on my way. The whole night passed without incident, and this on the day crowds swarmed many streets as the election resulted were revealed.
After with such a daring (some would say suicidal) excursion into the underworld of Port-au-Prince, a night bar hopping in the relatively affluent suburb of Petionville seemed a doddle. Wrong.
I was Attacked...
I stumbled out a bar, on my way to see a bartender I was chatting up earlier in the night. Before I knew it I was surrounded by 4 guys.
“Give me fucking money!” One screamed in my face.
They encircled me and squared up. I was royally fucked and couldn’t escape. They start pillaging my pockets.
“Ok, Relax, no problem.”
I lift up my arms and show no resistance. It wasn’t fucking worth it. I didn’t want things to get violent, not with me vs 4 Haitian guys. Luckily, I was prepared. I knew to have barely anything on me. They took my shitty $10 phone I got in East Timor, a bracelet bestowed on me by a Maltese lover and all my drinking money. After that, things got heated. They tried to remove my shoes – that was the line. I got in a brawl and started shouting out for help. There was no chance I was crusin´around barefoot for the rest of the night, it’s just not sexy. Just before they managed to get the second shoe off, help arrived. A moto roared up and the gang scampered. It was a shitty experience, made worse by the fact I was only 100 metres away from the police station. At least I was unharmed.
One more beer (part 2)
After making a report, the moto driver was kind enough to drop me to Jetset, the name of the high end bar my target was working at. I wasn’t about to let some thugs ruin my night. The place looked pretty sedated. I had laid the ground work early in the night so the staff gave me a hearty welcome when I walked in. I pull up chair and tell them what happened. My target sympathised and brought me a beer on the house. Word quickly spread around the counter. A beautiful Haitian girl speaks to me across the bar. She’s young and very slender, with an ass that could start wars. Her English was excellent, a rare thing in Haiti.
“Awhh, poor you. Do you need someone to console you?”
There was a glint in her eye. We got talking, much the annoyance of my bartender. I didn’t care, this hottie was a sure thing. Within 5 minutes, she went for the kill.
“I think you need me to accompany you home. I can be your bodyguard.”
We hopped on a moto, went to back to my hotel…
She was amazing. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Her body was so divine and addictive. Her plump ebony lips performed masterfully. For the second time in my life, I had quadruple orgasms.
It’s nice went stories have happy endings…