An American In Ibiza 2014

letsgetdownanddirtybaby

letsgetdownanddirtybaby

Active Member
Hello imaginary travel companions!

Stand by for something less than mediocre. I haven’t written for months and my book about Iraq is sitting on a shelf, waiting for statutes of limitations to expire.

Ibiza (now pronounced ib-e-tha?) is a week out and I’m coughing and hacking as some diseased engineer came into my office with the usual “could give a damn if I kill everyone on this project with my sickness” attitude. This has to clear up in time or I’m going to be more miserable than when I found out you can’t bring a guest into Ibiza Rocks Hotel at 3 AM (or any time). F’in cockblockers...I’m still full-hot on them.

I’ve been back to the White Isle several times but just didn’t feel like writing about it. My website is almost at 30K hits without any advertising so I guess it’s time for an update for the faithful.

I’m waxing fantastic about my early 40’s as somehow those are now glory days.

Closer to 50 than 40 and still chasing the perfect body (someone else’s…please…) and the perfect roll.

I wont grow up and why should you?

Letsgetdownanddirtybaby

www.anamericaninibiza.com
 
A 2012 Ibiza Love Story..one that I just had to tell...

So in 2012 I stayed once again at the Garbi for a week and woke up on a random day of the week around noon to go chill at the Garbi pool. I had my old portable Bose radio with the dock you jam your IPod into before everyone learned what to do with Bluetooth. It was starting to age and was venturing into the realm of disposable with dents from travel and clear sound at about 75% of its previous volume. There were about 50 people at various spots around the pool so I took up a couple of lay-flat lounge chairs and turned on my “old school Ibiza” tunes at a respectable volume.

The next two hours were filled with sunshine and afterglow from the roll of the night before. Wishing not to offend anyone, I played Tiesto’s “in search of Sunrise 2” followed by a few Prodigy tunes and some Chemical Brothers.
No one was complaining and the group of girls in front of me (twenty-something’s) actually were tapping their toes and enjoying a jug of Sangria. They were soon loosely into their second pitcher so I figured I woudl break-the-ice and send them another but the waitress never came around to see me. By the time I was fully irritated with the lack of service and got up to go to the bar, a third jug had arrived and the second was still a quarter full. Opportunity missed but perhaps fated.

I got up the nerve to introduce myself but they were generally uninterested in any further contact. They weren’t being snobby or anything, they just weren’t interested in a forty-something hitting on them.

With nothing to lose and only a few more minutes before boredom would force me to change the current scene, a dip in the pool seemed like the new order of the day. I’m sure I’m not the only person to swim the length of a pool underwater and then look around to see whose watching. Of course on the first try I’m meters short of the edge and fully expected all to be pointing and laughing at my failed attempt to join the Elite and quite rare Garbi Pool S.E.A.L.s No one is in fact giving even a care as I non-chelately swim the remaining feet on the surface to the edge.

The twenty-something’s are on the move and ladder-lower themselves into the deep end so I’m going to give a greater effort at my under-water prowess by swimming across the pool instead of the length of it. I’m thinking perhaps this will wow them into going topless…but no, the tops stay on. I swim to the ladder and there are now three of them hanging on the edge of the pool in the deep end. I’m doing my best to be the swarthy-balding-dapper older gentlemen that could buy them things but the conversation seems to have holes…mostly where girls voices should be talking. Two of the girls swim to the ladder to return to the comfort of their Sangrias and dry-towels and the third stays so I figure I’ve got at least one taker.

Five minutes later of polite conversation, one of the girls with Sangria in hand smiles and bends down to say to me at the side of the pool…”you know, she can’t swim.”

I’m between the girl in the pool and the ladder and so my face glows rosy in the sunshine and I say to them. “I just thought I was doing well.” And for some stupid reason I then blurt out “The world is not enough.” The girl hanging on the pool for dear life says with her perfect British accent, “That’s catchy, you might have something there.”

I’ve reached the point of maximum embarrassment for maybe a record 50th time in Ibiza and swim away to revel in my thoughts and attempt to recover from embarrassing myself to death. Even from the far side of the pool I can hear them laughing as they gather their things and troop back to their room with fits and giggles before I can even get near my towel. I sat down and turned off my Bose as the Pool DJ has arrived to play some chill out music no one wants to hear or even cares about.

I stared at their full pitcher of Sangria until the ice completely melted as the sun moved slowly around the sky and put me in enough shade to saunter back to my room in the shadows. Gaaaaa.

So the moral of the story: Chill out music does not require a DJ...even In Ibiza. Just push play and walk away if you have any self-respect. Your never going to be famous or make more than the guy at the Garbi Pool who also works as a bartender.

Letsgetdownanddirtybaby

www.anamericaninibiza.com
 
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^ for the newbies on the forum, this is and always will be pure class. Take note.
 
letsgetdownanddirtybaby said:
I got up the nerve to introduce myself but they were generally uninterested in any further contact. They weren’t being snobby or anything, they just weren’t interested in a forty-something hitting on them.
Click to expand...

By the time 40-something is reached, one is meant to be seeking out mature liaisons at Atzaro over a spinach smoothie after yoga :D
 
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Reactions: Liv
Johnny Vodka said:
40+ you can be a sugar daddy. :D I've just over a year to go.
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Get saving then :lol: ... enjoying the final weeks of my 30s, which passed all too quickly :( Biggest change on the 'turn' seems to be decreasing tolerance of mediocrity, rudeness and overcrowding. Come to think of it, nothing's changed at all :p
 
kimajy said:
Get saving then :lol: ... enjoying the final weeks of my 30s, which passed all too quickly :( Biggest change on the 'turn' seems to be decreasing tolerance of mediocrity, rudeness and overcrowding. Come to think of it, nothing's changed at all :p
Click to expand...
Its the public in general then really ! Welcome to the Grumpy Old Men Club.
 
yeah, I stopped writing about Ibiza to write a book about contractors in Iraq called, "How I got sent home from the war." Look for it after I die written in the same style and panache as "A confederacy of dunces."
 
Lol

More like the european union of dunces and tricks... All together forming the great cannon of literature for the new age of wisdom stemming from la droga cannibal!!

I like your sardonic style.
Lol
 
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