Those are NOT the rules of Asshole, but buddy, you are one.

Lucia:
I am sorry if I got your hopes up. Certainly a beach town teeming with drunken white boys would seem to be the setting for success. or possibly one of those afterschool specials. Either way, it was a dud.
We began the night with grocery store dinner and a few beers. by a few I mean that Sara had one and I drank 6. Then Sara didn't want to go out too early, she wanted to wait for our six neighbors before heading out. I see her point, it is possible that every town we had been in thus far did have a nightlife but that when we went seeking it at the ripe hour of 8pm it had not yet begun. But, I was a six pack (oh, and they were those really tall cans...) to the wind, what to do with that potential. ah, I laid in the bed with the light off and the ceiling fan on high. It was hot I tell you, very very hot. Then, Sara finally roused me and we went over to join The Neighbors for a game of asshole.
I played a round or seventy million of asshole in my college years. Funny, I forgot though how much it makes me hate the people I am playing with. They only had room at the table for one more chair, so Sara and I played together. Meaning that Sara held the cards and suffered the brunt of their rudeness as I sat behind her and tried to advise. Unfortunately my college friends played a different variation on asshole with the only real similarity being that it still makes people act like pricks.
So, we played a couple hands, never moving out of the asshole position (oh yes, that is right, they made us start in the asshole spot) and then finally got up to go to the bar.
The highlight was really making fun of everyone else. My buzz permanently departed even though I had two more beers at the bar. I feel like Todd would have advised doing a shot to get back on track, but Sara wasn't drinking at all and it just felt depressing.
I will tell you that a five foot tall native looking (is that degrading to say that?) guy asked me to dance. And I did think long and hard about going to hit on the guy that we dubbed Contemplating Suicide, but he disappeared right when I was getting up the nerve.
On the whole, it was WAY too hot in Tamarindo for me. Even if I had found someone I would have freaked out at the thought of touching them in this crazy heat.
If the Friday night described above is not pathetic enough for you, then you don't even want to know what we did (well, what I did. I don't know where Sara went) on Saturday. I will give you a hint, it involved two beers, dinner, and then laying in bed with the lights off and the ceiling fan on super high. Oh, and listening to podcasts from my iPod. wowza. I really know how to live it up, don't I?
Lucia