Babes in Gringoland

Nick, The Boy, came to visit me with three of his/our friends from school and we all went to Bávaro and Punta Cana. That area, in the east of the country, has some of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean; Beyonce liked it so much, she bought a house somewhere out there. My time in Paradise was tainted a little bit by one of Bávaro's main tourist attractions. Saturday night was our first night there, and we rode around a bit until we found an outdoor bar called Steve's. It was the only interesting thing to do on a Saturday night in the Spring Break capital of the Dominican Republic, oddly enough. Steve's was an outdoor bar on a corner near one of the big all-inclusives. I got my Red Bull from the bar and looked at the clientele. White, late twenties to early thirties, sunburned. There was a cluster of 4 Dominican women behind me and it wasn't long before I realized they were all prostitutes. I took another look around and realized I was the only girl there with any hint of melanin that wasn't a prostitute and it made me so sad and so angry. There were all these Chad from Accounting types, guys pushing thirty that probably belonged to frats in college and were just starting to get the beer bellies to match, wearing flip flops and goofy t-shirts. I looked at the one to my left, drunkenly "dancing" with the fat prostitute in the yellow dress and white fishnets and thought, he's going to go home with her, and she'll probably be the first black woman he's ever slept with. I poked Nick and pointed out all the prostitutes. I don't know why I was surprised, though. We were in Gringolandia, a big tourist area, and prostitutes know that's where the money is. I don't think I'll ever get used to how common prostitution is and I can't help but notice how the women are generally my complexion and darker. It's insane to me, too, that people just fly all over the world looking for prostitutes. It's not as though we don't have them in the States; it's also not that hard to find someone to sleep with for free, though I guess getting her to do exactly what you want is the harder part.

Before finding Steve's, we'd passed what looked like a strip club with a lot of half-naked woman standing outside. My friend Luis dropped Nick and me off back home and Luis and the other two guys, Chris and Larry, circled back to where the strippers were. All the strippers were actually prostitutes. When they got back that night, Larry told us he'd wanted a lap dance, but not being able to speak Spanish, he pulled out some money. The stripper came up, grabbed 60USD and ran off. Poor Lar-bear. At least he has a story to tell.