Tag Archives: laugh

White Face Bathroom Guy

Posted by on May 28, 2012 2 comments

I met some friends at a little cafe in the Colonial Zone for drinks. We were just sitting outside talking and laughing with the dogs at our sides.

After filling up on liquids it came my turn to head to the bathroom to make room for more liquids.

Now, let me tell a little history about me. Every time I have left a group of friends to visit the facilities I get lots of thoughts in my brain. What else is there to do whilst releaving ones self in a bathroom but think, am I right? Well, my friends in USA who knew me well got used to my coming out of the bathroom with a story. All would shut up when I came back to the group waiting with bated breathe for some astounding revelation to change life as all knew it. Ok, it was never that profound but you get the idea. So on with the story.

I got the key bearer with the key to the main door to the hallway to get to the bathrooms. The mens room is first and the door was open to see 2 stalls and a sink. No one was inside. Then was the ladies room straight ahead. The door was open as well.

There was a large type body bent over the sink with the paper can blocking the complete view of the face. Well, the face connected to the bending body looked up. To my surprise there was a mans face. A black mans face covered in white. First thing I thought was why is this guy doing white-face comedy as he was really funny looking.

His entire face was covered in shaving cream. The only thing that was the original color was the lips, surrounded completely in white, and of course his eye area. His eyebrows were even covered. He must have been one hairy beast to need to shave his entire face. Well, I just started laughing as he looked so funny standing there in the ladies room, the direction I was heading.

He started saying that he would get out and was apologizing for being in there. I then pretended I was afraid. I yelled Ghost (in Spanish) and jumped and grabbed onto the key bearing waiter guy still holding the main door open. He looked like he thought I was going to be angry cause of the guy in the ladies room so I scared him when I yelled.

The white faced black man was shaking his finger apologetically saying no, no that he wasn’t a ghost (as if I really thought he was) and coming toward me. The key bearer got the little dumb joke and was laughing. I put my hands up for him to stop and said it was ok and headed for the mens room. I drew an invisible line across the doorway and told them that this is MY bathroom now and DO NOT cross the line with a little half smile.

They had a dumbfounded chuckle look on their faces as I went to the mens room to take care of business and get the story right in my head for sharing later, giggling the entire time.

When I came out I realized that there was no water in the mens room so this is why he was shaving in the ladies room. So I headed to the ladies room to wash up. The ghost was gone replaced by a young lady washing her hands looking at me with a puzzled look as I walked out of the mens room with a big smile on my face (I was still laughing about the episode). I didn’t have the words to explain the story so I just kept laughing, washed my hands and got outta there with the girl smiling quizzically behind me.

I was so excited to tell the story when I got back to the table but they were into some serious discussion so I waited then the moment passed and I never got to share my bathroom experience.

Note to self – I have to train my new friends to wait for me to come out of the bathroom with a story and to stop all conversations when I exit the facility. They never know what could happen in a bathroom or what story can come into my head whilst sitting upon my throne.


Dancing Silly in the Colmado

Posted by on November 20, 2009 No comments

>I was out and about last weekend and stopped in a Colmado to have me a bien fria (cold Presidente beer). The place is not a regular stop for me but I do pass by there every once in a while to say hi. The guy started dancing and I just happened to have my camera (I don’t carry it around all the time as I’m a little paranoid about having another camera stolen). I asked him if I could take the video and put it on the internet. He was all happy to have his own style of dancing bachata shown. While taking this video I was sitting on the counter and holding in my laughing as I didn’t want to have all the music drowned out with my noisy laughing (and snorting..yes I snort when I laugh really hard) Enjoy!

Teeth Shooter

Posted by on August 18, 2009 1 comment

>I was sitting in front of a Colmado at Parque San Miguel drinking a beer Sunday. Taking a little break from my Sunday walkabout.

The owner is a nice guy and he invited me for a few beers. We were drinking, telling stories and having a nice ole time when a friend of his joined us. Mr. Teeth(as I’ll call him throughout this story)was a bit drunk already and started telling me how he was in love with me. He kept putting his hand on my leg while talking. He was getting a bit too familiar so I asked him very nicely to please don’t touch me. I don’t like it. He would stop and then a few minutes later start again. I moved my chair a little away from him and he followed. Finally I decided I had to be a bit more forceful so maybe he would bet it through his head I did not like being touched. So I told him a sentence that I learned my first time on vacation in Santo Domingo, “Quintas sus manos sucios de me”! (roughly translated “Get your dirty hands off of me” and I’m not sure if I say it correctly or spell it right but you get the idea).

Mr. Teeth opened his mouth in shock ready to say something. When he opened his mouth his false teeth flew out and landed on the sidewalk! He had a look of shock on his face. I had to do the ole double take going from his face to the ground where his teeth lay. After the initial few second shock, I didn’t want to embarrass him, I turned and started talking to my friend. Mr. Teeth grabbed up his dentures and hurriedly put them on the chair between his legs.

I was trying not to laugh. I really, really tried not to laugh.My friend was snickering the entire time and I was holding it in as best as I could. But when I looked at him, he was putting the teeth back in, I lost it. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Many times when I laugh too hard I snort and this was one of those times. My friend and I were laughing so hard, we couldn’t stop. I tried to stop because I didn’t want to humiliate Mr. Teeth but I couldn’t help it, especially when my friend was laughing just as hard as I. I decided it was best just to get out of there. I told my friend I had to go. I tried to say goodbye to Mr. Teeth but I just couldn’t. I had to walk down the street alone laughing aloud to myself all alone.

All the rest of the day every time I thought of it I started laughing. People probably thought I was a bit off walking alone and giggling but it could not be helped. I’m even laughing now just picturing good ole Mr. Teeth and the look on his face when his teeth shot out of his mouth. Am I a bad human for this?? LOL!

this is a little added on note I had to get permission to write about from my mom:
The thing that really made me laugh when I could not hold it in anymore was thinking of my mother. My nephew, who was very shy and afraid when he was young as he was adopted and not used to our boisterous style of family, was playing with my mom. She was holding him above her balanced on her feet. All were laughing and having a good time when her teeth flew out! My nephew got this look of fear on his face and a giant scream came out of his mouth. He wouldn’t stop crying and yelling for a while and it took him days, maybe months before he was able to sit with his grandmother without being afraid her teeth were not going to come out.

This is what made me laugh more at the Mr. Teeth guy. I laughed at my mom as did the entire family (except the frightened nephew) so I think I had a right to laugh at Mr. Teeth didn’t I?

The Washing Experience

Posted by on February 3, 2006 1 comment

>I did buy the machine. Heres the story I wrote soon after my first laundry experience. Hope you get a good laugh reading it as I did when I worte and experienced it.

Dominican Wash Machine!

Well, I did it! I bought a Dominican wash machine. I never used a semiautomatic before…wash machine that is. For those of you who don’t know what this Dominican wash machine looks like…its plastic, light weight, has a place to wash on one side and the other side is a spinner to extract the water out of the clothes. I never saw anything like it in USA!

Getting this thing delivered to my house was not as bad as I thought it would be. Using the machine was another story indeed, it was much worse than I ever could have imagined. Lucky for me the instructions were in English or I may still be trying to interpret them. I had so many dirty clothes I couldn’t wait to use my new machine.

I proceeded to unpack this fine, what I thought would be, a great and helpful purchase. Since my place was so small I figured I’d just slide it over to the sink to fill and drain it from there. I slid that baby right over to the sink. It was very light. I pulled out the hose, attached it to the back of the machine then went to hook it onto the spigot. Dumb thing didn’t fit. Now I had to think for a minute and come up with a new plan. Ah Ha! I attached the garden hose to the outside facet and drug it into the house, stuck it in the machine and commenced filling my fine plastic dream machine.

As I stood back, content, waiting for it to fill, the hose got a life of its own. It flipped right out of the tank. I was right on it! I got the floor a little wet. But hey! No Problema! The floor needed a washing anyhow. I put that wild, whipping hose right back in the tank. I wasn’t going to let it get the best of me.

With the tank filled and the soiled clothes agitating wildly in the tank, I was content. All seemed to be going well. The soap was bubbling nicely. The clothes were going to be happy clothes for being washed properly once again.

The first cycle complete I get the supplied drain hose ready so it can do its job. The hose is connected to the bottom of the machine without problems. Then I put that expandable hose in the sink. This made me have to face the next problem. Water doesn’t flow up hill. Imagine that! I always thought I was pretty smart but at that moment I knew it was not so. I set the hose down on the floor to think of what to do and to my surprise all the water started running out onto the floor. Now I was feeling really feeling stupid as the soapy water was flowing, quite rapidly I must say, out onto the floor! It took me a few seconds to think of what to do. Then it came to me, run outside and shut the water off, big dummy!

You could never imagine how much water can drain out of a hose in a few seconds! I had a small pool in my home by this time. I got my trusty bucket, that because of some strange enlightment I had the brains to buy. I put the hose inside. The bucket filled up faster than I had anticipated. I had to think fast, how to empty it, hold the hose up, and get it back into position without adding to the flooded floor. Well, let me say, I didn’t succeed in my attempt. The small pool was growing rapidly and becoming quite a large pool rapidly. As I lifted the bucket to the sink the water would spill out on the floor. I decided it was futile and just let the water flow onto the floor as it desired. Maybe this is why I see the Dominican women sweeping water out of their houses into the street all the time.

Now the water was emptied from the tank. I got out the directions and read again. They said to remove the clothes from the big tank and put them in the smaller tank. This is the water extractor or centrificar (I think that is how to spell it). I turned it on and it was spinning fast. Then water started pouring out of the machine onto the floor again. So that is what the spinny thing did. It removed the excess water. It did make the clothes quite dry. I was impressed. Much dryer than the hand wringing they were used to receiving. I was really gaining some intellegence this day for sure.

The first load was done.I made clothes clean and created a pond all at the same time. I was doing great! I swept some of the water out the door and I was ready to give it another try. Now that I was a seasoned pro and had the technique down I was ready. I had this thing all figured out, I thought. I decided not to sweep out anymore water just incase it happened again. I had to save my strength just in case there were any more mishaps.

I got the hose in the machine went out to turn on the water. The hose popped out again, but oh well, the floor was already a pond! The machine did its job again and as before it was my turn. The drain hose popped off again.

This time the neighbor was walking by my open door. She saw me on my knees in the flooded kitchen with water shooting out of the machine. I was laughing out loud to myself. She stopped and had a look of shock and amazement blended together on her face. I’m sure she was thinking what is that crazy Gringa doing. She said something, I have no clue what it was because it was all Spanish to me. She started laughing also. Then, of course, she went and got two other people to come see the Americana kneeling in a pool of bubbly water in the middle of her kitchen. They were laughing at me. I was laughing at me. Everybody laughed!

What was Sniffy doing? She heard the laughter and she always loved a good laugh. Her tail would wag and she’d get in what we called her horse shoe position. Her back end curving around almost touching her face. She really had no clue what was going on but she wanted to be involved. She came out of the back of the apartment, stopped at the edge of the pool looking very confused yet happy (she did smile). I don’t know how she knew it was the edge of the pond when she was blind. Many times she amazed me, She then decided to enter the water, slipped and fell right in. My poor blind wonder dog Sniffy. Now there is a wet dog and a wet human. People laughing at us from outside the door, and water everywhere. What a site it was.

I was feeling good. I had my first load of wash done. It was hanging on the line on the roof happily soaking up the sun and swaying in the gentile Caribbean breeze. I had a good laugh. Entertained the neighbors. Sniffy and I both had a swim in our own little pool. Sniffy got a bath since she was wet already. The water was swept out of the house, floor and patio clean.

I called the Colmado to bring me a few beers. I had to sit back and reflect on my new experience. I was proud and content. My first Dominican laundry experience and I survived. I just never realized how much water a little plastic wash machine held! I hope this doesn’t happen every time I wash or I’m going back to hand washing…it takes less time

Copyright © 2002

My big idea to move to Dominican Republic

Posted by on December 14, 2005 No comments

I had visited Dominican Republic 3 times before. Once to Punta Cana with friends then the other 2 times alone to Santo Domingo. All within a years time.(2000)

I completely fell in love with the country and couldn’t stop talking about it or thinking about it. I bought some books to learn Spanish. Bought Latin music CD’s and listened to them constantly. I went to my waitress job and tried to talk Spanish to my customers. Most put up with me but others would yell at me and tell me that I was in USA and to speak English. This made me more determined to learn something that most around the small town area I lived had no desire to learn.

I worked extra hours whenever I could get them. Went to the flea market when I could and sold my jewelry I made and whatever things I had left over from my Sun-N-Moon Native Creations store that I closed down the year before. Saved up my money so I could go on vacations to DR.

On the 4th visit I got the idea that maybe I should just move to DR instead of working so hard for just a week here and a week there. I was to the point where all I thought about was what life would be like living there. I was staying in an apart hotel near the presidential palace in Gazcue. I decided I would walk to the American embassy and see what I needed to do to be able to move there.
I really didn’t know where the embassy was but I had a general idea. I started out on my treks. It was hot and I was walking for a long time so I decided to head toward a little cafeteria where I made friends with the ladies that worked there. I had my lunch and enjoyed trying to communicate with my friends. One of the regular lunch guys was a taxi driver and he said he’d drive me to the American Embassy free so I took the offer.
He left me in front of the compound. This was pre 9/11 so there was just normal security around the place. I walked a while to find the gate. There was a little guard house and a Dominican man came out and said I couldn’t enter. I tried to tell him I needed to talk to someone about moving to DR. I had no idea what he was telling me but I was very persistent.
He would not let me in. He called another man over and he tried to tell me I was not permitted in. I kept saying that I was American and wanted to talk to someone. I didn’t have a passport at the time so I couldn’t prove I was American which really wouldn’t have mattered anyhow.
Finally the guard got on the phone and called someone to talk to me in English. The lady said that I needed to go to the consulate to get what I needed and she told me how to get there and which window to go to. Said bye to the guards and walked on trying to find the consulate.
When I did find it I couldn’t believe it. It was outside and had windows with letters on them where you had to talk to the people. So I got in the line. I got to the front and they checked my purse. They wouldn’t let me in! I had a camera in my purse! I tried to tell the lady to keep the camera til I was finished but she didn’t speak English and I finally figured out that she was telling me there was a little door down the walk around the corner and there was police and they could hold my camera for me.
I was getting very frustrated by this time. It was hot and I was all sticky and miserable. So I went around the corner and around the next corner and finally ended up back at the gate of the consulate. There was no door that I could see! I asked again and thought I figured out where they were telling me to go and set off again.
No damn door!!!
By this time I was just thanking God that I had sun glasses on because this way no one could see me crying out of sheer frustration. I had enough. I had spent most of the day trying to get this information and I had nothing but a headache and heart pulpitations from holding in my anger.
I realized I was near a friends house in Cuidad Universaria near Lincoln. So I went to the phone and tried to call him. It took me a while to figure out how to use the pay phone which made me cry more. And as I was mumbling not nice words To myself I finally got the phone to work. My friend answered and told me to come over to his house right away.
By the time I got there Alex had already ordered me a few grande Presidente beers to ease my nerves. That beer tasted sooo good. He and his brother, Warren cooked me some Venezuelan food (they are from Venezuela. I met the Warren on the computer and we are still friends). They had a good laugh at my expense when I told my story. I had no idea that this was the norm when trying to accomplish anything in Dominican Republic.
They called my friend Carlos to come for me. He finally showed up to take me to the Colmado, to get some food and then back to the hotel.
That day was the start of me not letting the country beat me down. I loved the place more. It was the challenge maybe. Who knows. That day I was so frustrated yet my friends were there for me. They made all OK. And for sure they understood and explained to me that this is the way of life here in DR. Everything you do takes forever to accomplish. It is very frustrating. But this is life and the life style of everyday living makes up for the moments of frustration.
Note** I never did get the information I wanted. I waited until I returned to USA and called the Dominican Consulate in Philly. The people there were great and helped me get myself and my dog to finally live in Dominican Republic.
Bless their hearts!