Our night at Hotel Cocal & Casino in Jaco

Billy Joe Hunter here. When I last checked in, it was on our visit to the Farmer’s Market in Jaco, called a “feria.” Feria isn’t pronounced “fay-REE-ah,”as you’d expect but as ‘FAIR-ee-ah. It’s a word in the Costa Rican language.

That kinda reminds me of funny a part in the movie “Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure” where the tour guide at the Alamo is telling people that buildings of the time were made of adobe or “ah-doh-be.”  Then asks everyone to say it with her, “ah-doh-be.”

Now, to our own big adventure into the world of pretty senoritas who charge for their time in Costa Rica. Even though prostitution is not legal in America and Mexico, it is legal here and we found those involved don’t mind being upfront about it, just like you were talking about renting a room or something.

Chester was itching to check it out so I found the note I saved that had the name of a Jaco hotel where ladies of the night hung out.  We took a cab to the Hotel Cocal and Casino. It turned out to be a short taxi ride, as it wasn’t very far down the beach from us. I couldn’t help but notice our taxi driver, Jose, had a big grin on his face the whole way there, like the cat that swallowed the mouse. I have no idea why.

We pulled up at this big building and the taxi driver motioned that this was it. I wasn’t sure what the meter read so I asked him “How much?” He told me $6, so I paid him. If I’d only had Costa Rican money it would have been half that, as I explained in my last post.

Chester jumped out of the taxi and almost ran inside, he was so anxious. We weren’t getting a room, but we had been told the “action” is around the pool area. We followed the signs to the pool. The place was hopping because there was a bachelor party going on with some white guys that looked American and a boatload of beautiful senoritas of all ages and sizes. They didn’t allow us to take photographs inside so I grabbed a photo from elsewhere to give you an idea of what it’s like.

The pool area at Hotel Cocal.

The pool area at Hotel Cocal.

It’s hard to describe the scene around the pool, but there were probably 75 senoritas dressed mostly in short skirts or shorts, with tank tops and a handful of very happy-looking American men. I figured the senoritas were partial to American men because there were a bunch of them hanging around each guy. Not to put too fine a point on it, but was clear to me they really like American men, for some reason.

A couple of cute young women came over to me and Chester and kinda indicated they were attracted to us. Maybe it was our Old Spice after shave or our Southern accents. Who knows?  I told mine I thought she was a fine as frog’s hair and then she came right out and told me she charges $100 for her services. There were a couple of things included for that $100, but I don’t want to get into too much detail because the folks back home are probably reading this. I told the senorita that this wasn’t my first rodeo, but she said it was still $100.

The amount they wanted for a romp in the hay was a surprise as I thought they would charge $10 or $20, being this is a third-world country and all. Chester must have gotten the same price because I saw him look at me with eyes as big as saucers. We excused ourselves for a minute and found a place to compare notes.

“Mine wants a hundred dollars!” Chester told me in a panic.  I told him that’s what mine wanted, too.

“What are we going to do? We only brought enough cash for one and some drinks,” he said.

I was wondering if we could talk the ladies into a “buy one, get one free” deal when Chester came up with what I thought at the time was a brilliant idea: We should hit and casino and double our money.

We excused ourselves from the ladies and headed to the casino where we found a Blackjack table. Sure enough, they were playing with American cards.  I’ve never been very good counting as high as 21 so Chester sat down and bet $5, just to see how if the game played the same in Costa Rica as it did in America. Sure enough, it did. The dealer busted and we were up $5 on our first hand.

I don’t want to bore you with all the details, but Chester mostly won for the next 15 minutes, betting $5 at a time. He got a couple of Blackjacks and we were close to halfway to our goal of doubling our $100. Then Chester upped his bet to $10 and son of a gun, he won even more. We darn near had our $100 doubled when Chester winked at me and put our entire pot in. He whispered to me that the dealer had a “tell” – a nervous little eye twitch got when he had a bad hand.  We were about to make $400 on our original $100 investment! Then, disaster struck. Chester busted and we lost not only the money we’d won but our original $100.  We were almost flat broke. Chester couldn’t understand why the dealer’s eye was twitching so much when he had a winning hand.

Our planned evening with the ladies was thrown all katty-wampus, but Chester thought for a moment and said, “Follow me!”  I walked behind him back to the busy pool area where he motioned for the same girl who had come over earlier to come over again. She got a big smile on her face as she walked toward him. See, I told you everybody’s happy in Costa Rica.

“You got the $100?” she asked Chester.

“How about $60?” Chester asked her.

She didn’t think twice and said, “Alright if you don’t waste my time.”

Chester told her didn’t have $60 and she looked at him a might bewildered. Chester reached in his pocket and pulled out some loose bills and some change – all that he had left for the night. He counted it out in his hand in front of her.

“How long would I get for $3.50?” Chester asked her.

The woman’s attitude sure changed in a hurry.

“For $3 and 50 cents? Three-and-a-half minutes!” she replied.

“PERFECT!” Chester said, but then the lady turned around and left.

“I thought she was serious,” Chester told me.  I consoled him as best I could. “What about the ATM?”

I told him I wasn’t about to draw money out here. I thought it was too dangerous.

With nothing else to do and no money to do it with, we walked down the beach to our place. Neither one of us spoke a word the entire way. At that moment, we were so poor we couldn’t even afford to pay attention.

When we got back to our hotel room we used our newfound extra time to pack, as we are leaving in the morning.  We’re headed for a place called Monte Verde.  It’s what they refer down here in Costa Rica as a “cloud forest.” I guess that’s where clouds come from.

This is Billy Joe signing off for now.


About billjoehunter

Born and raised in the USA. Searching for $1 beer in Costa Rica.
This entry was posted in Central America, Costa Rica, Humor and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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