Bimbo Club

I often find myself lost in thought when staring out of the car window on the long drives in Costa Rica. It feels tranquil to be flying by the colorful tropical vegetation and endless hillsides. Since I first visited CR and over the last five months of living here, the car has always been this imagined sign of a pause. Sure, I can always get in trouble, no matter what, and under any circumstances - but the risk always seemed so minimal while riding in the car.¹ It's been some of the very few moments in which I allowed myself to breathe and think about the reality of my new life.² The crew was headed to Arenal and I was excited. I had made a bloody mess of the last trip and now was the time for me to return to the jungle for redemption.³
The trip started out well enough, as I had stayed up the night before defining about 26 words. Allow me to introduce you to this game we play. The directions are simple, Master and Hannah will go back and forth producing words that I have to define. If I don't know the word then I have to write it down and give an explanation during our next interaction. The game stops when I can accurately define a word thats given. So, to answer your question, yes - they have only stopped out of pity for me but I think I'm still a winner... I like to call the second phase of the game the bonus round (they didn't know this) because once I bring back the defined word list, Master goes into these riveting explanations of how the words came to be. I'm so fortunate for my life, which consists of driving through one of the most scenic routes in the world, all the while listening to philology from the man himself.

Look, free monkeys! Coati monkeys are the raccoons of the jungle, so much so that tourists blocked the road trying to feed them. Monkeys weren't the only thing to block the road on this trip. Since the holidays are over, its now time for construction in Costa Rica. The locals decided to block one of the only major highways in the country for going on over thirty five minutes. Lucky for us, we ended up at the beginning of the line and had Master in the car. It took him only around a minute with the workers before the cones went up and they quickly got out of the way. Of course, this was after a few nervous looking men walked over to the workers and bailed out of any confrontation by getting on their phones and taking the walk of shame back to their cars without saying a word. So, on we went with miles of cars in our rear. We finally made it to the cabin with a view of the volcano and a legendary pool. But first, I was instructed to help back the car into the covered parking spot. This sounds like an easy task, but I was already nervous from fucking this up during the last trip.⁴ Instead of delivering on the order - I got in the way of the driver, made incompetent hand gestures, and spoke so low no one heard me give direction. My incredible angst was of no use in this situation, and I was hoping to turn this around before the end of the trip, but as the saying goes - no such luck. However, I did develop a well adjusted panic on the road back to the cabin every night in anticipation of assisting with parking.⁵ Anxiety has been a friend of mine since I can remember. I occupy a no relax zone and would like move on from it as soon as possible (see what I did there?). It will always be true that the most desirable state for a tasked slave is focused with a clear mind. I am not that slave yet, but the trip goes on. And on it goes to the pool.
This pool is unlike anything I had ever seen before. Not only is it an infinity pool that overlooks the volcano and the volcanic lake, but it has fountains, an attached hot tub, and is constructed of beautiful regal blue and white tiles. Master and I spent a good amount of time wrestling in the water. He is suspiciously immune to my various sneak attacks and ankle grabs, which leaves me gasping for air and choking on water. Over ten years of trained swimming and yet, I still find myself pinned at the bottom of the pool and at the mercy of his foot (of course, he's enjoying my lack of air and under water struggle while making out with a certain Wannaackins on the surface, pretentious much?!). Finally, the sun sets and we all enjoy watching it fade into the seemingly forever narrowing river. I give everyone foot rubs in the hot tub and we head back to the cabin. By head back to the cabin, I mean that I walk back naked. We suspect that the cars that saw me naked were driven by the people at the pool who watched us with disapproving faces from afar. We also saw these people at breakfast the following morning. 'Tis a sad honeymoon for them when they realize that they won't ever have as much fun as the harem. After breakfast, we headed for hiking by way up in a sky tram. Hiking was an enjoyable moment and I'm growing more accustomed to appreciating nature instead of a phone. Since transcribing Philosophical Transactions, I can only imagine what a trek it must have been for any expedition to explore this land.⁶

I finally grew up enough to be trusted with handling a camera. This was the perfect trip for it, since I haven't yet found the right words to describe how beautiful it is here and well, a picture would be really hard to fuck up. My dread returned as I had to assist with parking the car again. This time seemed like my worst attempt and frustrated everyone to the point of yelling or getting out of the car... Master wouldn't let me see the surprise until I cheered up, but they saw me first!

Volcanic cows were squatting in our back yard.⁷ Check out the white guy being all weird and creeping in the corner.⁸ The rest of the afternoon was spent sipping champagne and me praying that we won't need to move the car again. It took me hours to fall asleep that night, staring at the ceiling in the dark and endlessly going over the details of the day in order to have some preparedness for the next.
It was leavin' time and we packed up the car so that... I could drive. My minimal experience of driving manual shot me into an immediate panic on the way to find breakfast. Before we could find somewhere that met the standards, I had already fucked up past any sort of tolerable point. My stomach pitted up when I heard the words, "get out of the car". I watched the BMW drive off while on the side of a jungle road in a short dress and high heels. It only took a few steps for me to get stuck in mud and trip into some bushes that caused an instantaneous skin rash with hives (I've never had hives before or seen them on my skin.). The only reason I took those few steps was because I wanted to get out of the rain and the road. At which point, I started crying and begging the rain forest to please give me a fucking break. A wonderful Costa Rican family stopped and offered me a ride⁹, which I declined. I spent my time standing there by entertaining my thoughts between how much I had fucked up...etc. and well, what if they don't come back. My purse with my passport and any belongings were in the car - my options were to beg someone for a ride or join the family of coati monkeys. Time did its trick of slowing down for me. Thought after thought rushed into my head and I can't say that I feel any better thinking about it now. The BMW circled its way back to me and I can't tell you how long they were gone for but, I tried to get my shit together as best as I could upon their return. I made a resolve with myself that the only way back to the cage was by me driving, so I had to make it happen.
I drove by ignoring my emotions of being extremely overwhelmed and on the verge of a break down. We ate breakfast at some German restaurant that I hardly remember. The road to Monte Verde was painful for both me and the car. Every rock felt like it was ding at my chances for making it back to Giuseppe. When I was finally relieved of driving duty, I was sent to sit in the passenger seat. Master likes the passenger seat up for leg room and he did kindly allow me to move the seat back some. However, when we arrived at a restaurant for dinner, my legs were so cramped that I looked like a fawn trying to walk for the first time. Dinner was the best part of the day. I eventually was able to focus on something other than the jungle warfare that I had just lived through. It was monumental for me to return to the first restaurant that I had kneeled at. This place has become a touchstone for my slavery¹⁰ ... I no longer live a life of imagined breaks in the car or delusions that my time is my own. Watching them laugh was & is a reminder of why I was so desperate to kneel in the first place and why it would be such a waste to resist any part of this life.

1. Which may seem like an insane thought - fear of riding in a car is reality for a lot of people. I'm guessing those people haven't been kicked out of someones house and made to walk home or hit with a hammer for taking to long...etc. [↩]
2. I should mention that being entertaining in the car is mandatory. I do my best to balance the state of reflection and engagement; however, often times I find myself being scolded for lack of good conversation, knowledge, and jokes. Of course, justly scolded and I'm told these things improve over time but the sting of under performing stays with me. [↩]
3. Redemption from what?! Well, mostly me being quiet and slave shocked and also, a lack of tampons. You cant take the Indiana out of the girl... [↩]
4. To make matters worse, on the last trip I did not realize that there was a garage, so I stopped the car before it even got properly parked. For this fuckupery I was painfully beat with a dog toy, or better known as a bitch toy. It still sits in my closet taunting me over this transgression. Sigh. [↩]
5. Costa Ricans do this weird thing were they employ people to help you park your car at almost every location. They will have a man in a reflective vest standing around and waiting to assist you with backing up. This is unlike anything I have ever seen in the states. [↩]
6. Good thing they travl'd with a pike man and a cook... [↩]
7. I'm glad they chose this trip time to do it. On our previous trip, I was punished to lay in the same grass naked and those cows well defiled it. [↩]
8. I need to admit that I did ruin Master's shot of me naked and barefoot petting a cow, whew. Now you know. [↩]
9. I wonder if any of the girls I have seen crying on the side of the road have been kicked out of the car for disappointing their Master. [↩]
10. Incidentally, I was on all fours crawling out of the restaurant in a dress so short that my ass and cunt showed, while a shocked girl stared on in a state of disbelief. [↩]

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 23rd, 2019 at 8:33 a.m. and is filed under Ramblings'. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.