¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!

I’m on vacation with a friend.  Everywhere we go hotels are giving us single bed rooms. This is proof that yes, it does get better, but it’s also gone too far.

I’m surprised that we didn’t encounter complimentary condoms and lube upon entering the room.  Maybe a sling hanging from the ceiling?  Perhaps a listing of all the available Asians in town.  You call for a wake up call and the next morning you get a lecture about AIDS.

Gay travel is now a huge industry.  Think about it, lots of expendable income and few children.  It’s gotten so huge now that even that Vatican is offering a special tour by excommunicated priests through Rome’s gay bar scene.  No worries, none are within a 100 feet of a school.

I wouldn’t consider myself a gay traveler per se.  I’m a traveler that just happens to be gay.  In a gay bar.   On Grindr.   Drinking low calorie drinks.

I once experienced the seedy downstairs area of Berlin gay bars.  I hooked up with a guy.  It was fun, you’ve got to experience it.  When you do, can you look for my wallet?  It just disappeared down there.

You haven’t lived until you’re drinking whiskey and Fresca in a Jacuzzi at 3 am at a hotel outside the Grand Canyon.  However, you can live without seeing two overweight siblings make out naked in front of you.  Let’s just say, even if we were in Philadelphia, that would be taking the idea of “brotherly love” too far.

This happened a couple years ago on vacation with some friends.  We met some very handsome British fellows (no relation to the before mentioned smooching siblings).  It’s true what they say about the British, they really are gay until proven straight (not these guys, they are totally straight and just seem gay because of their cool accents, I mean I think, whose to say they haven’t had a little tickle time at 14, no judgment, a little turned on right now, moving on…).

But we’ve all asked ourselves the same thing upon meeting someone from Europe, “Are they gay or just European?”  I hate to even think of the one guy who encountered Hitler, inferred too much, made a pass, and well, I think we know how this ended.  It’s tragic to think that Evan Braun had to live out his final days as Eva Braun.

We’re coming to an end on our Costa Rica adventure.  If I take away one thing from this vacation it’s this: no matter how hard I try, I will never, ever, be able to get to “¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!” out of my head in a Spanish speaking country.