Puerto Rico

Puerto Rico was a great trip. We stayed at the luxurious Ritz Carlton which had its own private beach. The ocean was warm, the people were friendly, and best of all the pool area had a bunch of stone lions.

One of the few complaints I have about the Ritz Carlton was the poolside bar. Somehow they positioned it such that the sand was constantly attacking me. The first afternoon we had lunch at the poolside bar, and sand kept blowing onto my $18 grilled cheese. Furthermore, there was a beach shower-head located directly up wind from our table. We didn't notice this until we felt a fine mist. Unfortunately, it wasn't just water hitting us, it was water ricocheting off an old man in a Speedo.

Although we were in one of the better parts of San Juan, there was a Cockfighting Coliseum just a block away from our hotel. This excited me. Whenever I am at an improv show and they ask for a suggestion, I always yell "cockfight!" (At DC's Improvapalooza, this suggestion turned out to be a hilarious double-entendre because the two actors on stage had been playing flagrantly gay characters when I yelled it from the crowd). The Cockfighting Arena was actually very classy from the outside, and I admit, against my better judgment that I was a little intrigued.

I would never condone animal abuse. But what if two cocks just happen to start fighting of their own free-will, who am I to intervene? Who am I to thwart nature? Who am I to deny a friendly wager from a mere passer-by? No... I didn't bet on any fights... but I did meet Michael Vick.