Two years back on my flight in I stopped at the duty free downstairs near baggage claims area and there was this very hot tica out front peddling the poison. She was super model class in the face. Just not very tall.
I went in and bought a couple of bottles of Ron Zacape 23 anos, flirted a lil bit here and there.
She could have been a contestant in any bikini, wet t shirt, Next Top Model, Miss Universe, Miss Playa, Nicest ass, Biggest butt, Nicest breast, Best legs contest anywhere in the world.
I had a fat knot in my pockets upon arrival. I was flasing cash and grinning with her. You know how it tis when you first hit town. She was good until I gave her my number and hotel info.
She gave me the arrogant American that thinks he can have anyone look and ask me why I was giving her my number. Flame crash burn!
I smiled, took my info and number back, grabbed my bottles, pushed my cart with luggage out to the Gauntlet where my driver was waiting for me to be wisked away to my hotel.
My first chica that evening was free.
The chica at the Duty Free would have cost me a small fortune I am sure.
Karma!
50
