The town of Manzanillo is not distinctive. Tourists come to this area for
the fabulous beaches and tropical scenery. But for the adventurous male, the
city provides a bonus -- besides few tourists, inexpensive seafood
restaurants (half the price that of Puerto Vallarta), and a picturesque
Plaza Principal, there is a an old time seafaring " red light district,"
just like those old B movies.

I will never forget my night in Manzanillo. I had heard rumors of such a
place. In order to find this lusty fun zone, I used a technique I learned in
Uruguay. Once, hopelessly lost in my rental car, on the backroads of
Montevideo, I asked taxi cab for directions, to which he replied " follow
me." I did and finally found the beach. When you are lost in a foreign
country simply ask to follow a cab -- pay half before and half upon
arriving. We soon spotted the ladies in mini-skirts and loud music. It was
at the far southeast end of town, a few miles from the sea front.

The atmosphere in the bars was unbelievable, reminiscent of an eighth
grade sock-hop. The men were on one side of the sawdust floor and the
ladies (all dressed to kill or be capture alive) were huddled in the
other corner. Only a brave "hombre" would dare to ask a lady to dance
and ask her " price."  Once he returned to the male gallery, he would
be interrogated about the dangerous crossing. It wasn't the place to
show our manliness (we were the only gringos), so my friend and I
decided to leave and check the street action. Not drawing much
attention, we decided these girls weren't for us and decided to
leave. As we approached our car, the prettiest street walker came up
and propositioned my friend and made an offer he couldn't refuse $20
and a private room. Since I was left out, she immediately offered a
friend... same deal, same room but an unseen girl. Not to be a party
pooper I said " sure," who knows if this could be my lucky night.

I was designated to go first after the coin flip. I was introduced to my
partner -- a short, freckled twenty-two year old in a black leather
mini-skirt. She said she liked Gringos (I wonder why?) and visited the disco
next to Las Hadas to meet them. Well, the room was the size of an airline
bathroom with a table covered with 50 shades of make-up, and a mirror strung
with fishnet stockings. The closet was stuffed with red and black
mini-skirts, and alas, a small fan to cool the 90-degree room. As she took
her clothes off, I realized I had made a big mistake -- she must have had
four kids (the two girdles hid the blubber) and her body was covered with
tattoos and ?. Nothing is more embarrassing for a man than to not react to a
naked girl standing in front of him -- my exact problem. I apologized, said
it was the spoiled fish I had for dinner, paid my $20, and left. Mean while,
my friend waited impatiently outside. It was his turn and he had an
exhilarating time, unaware of my embarrassing experience.


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