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The Human Firehose from Montreal

By Rainbow

Every so often I meet a fellow Canadian I am actually ashamed of. Such was the case on La Rampa (Calle 23) in Havana.
I sometimes like to hang out at a 24-hour cafeteria called Sofia down near the National Hotel. I like to back myself into the corner table with my back to the glass and watch the Havana street life unfold. I study the people and their inter-relationships of such groups as the hookers, cigar cockroaches, police and fellow tourists.

It looked like rain was coming so I grabbed a light jacket just before dark to do some "people watching". I noticed after being seated that there were a lot of tourists in the bar that night and before long, with the coming of the rain, the bar was packed. One group of people in particular was a little short toad of a man who reminded me of Jawa the Hutt in Star Wars. He sat slouched in his chair with beady little eyes, pouring down (NOT DRINKING) Crystal after Crystal beer the whole time bragging about his conquests to an American who looked like he just stepped out of an LL Bean Catalog. The more this toad drank, the louder he got until the whole bar was aware HE was from Montreal. He had to have dropped back 8 beers in an hour.

Just about this time a guy from France came in with a beautiful mulatto girl on his arm. It was obvious that they had know each other for some time and were speaking a combination of French and Spanish. They made the mistake of sitting at the table right next to the toad and ordered a couple of pizzas. Mean while the toad is still pouring back the beer and making a real obnoxious ass of himself.

You must remember readers that the next part of the story happens very fast...

Just as the waiter placed the pizzas on the table for the young couple, the toad bursts into hysterical laughter. At almost the same instant, his colour changes to "Frog Green" and he clamps his hand over his mouth but this did not stop twin streams of God Knows What mixed with tons of beer from shooting out both nostrils and spray across the pizzas, tables and anyone else who was within 10 feet. The poor Frenchman also turned green as well as his girlfriend and I was sure I was witnessing the beginnings of a Gang Puke!!!!!!! I immediately started to head over the flower boxes and toward the sidewalk. I did not want to be caught in the middle of this, jacket or no jacket. This asshole sure knew how to clear a bar in a hurry as the place almost emptied in 15 seconds flat. Man… was I ever fucking grossed out!!!!!!!! I quickly beat a hasty retreat toward Pain De Paris but for some reason, my appetite was gone.

I strolled back down La Rompa about two hours later and believe it or not, the fucking toad was back in there drinking beer again. I noticed that the only person near him was the 'Great Outdoorsman". Looked like these two had bonded at the hip. I felt like crossing over the barriers and slapping this jerk right up the side of the head but he was so drunk, he probably would not have felt it anyways.
If you are anywhere in Havana and you see a Jawa The Hutt look alike guzzling back the beer, RUN ... Don't Walk to another bar. Don't say you have not been warned!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

















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