Delusions of grandeur.

Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Nicaragua  ,
Sunday, November 27, 2011

I'm a stinking, festering mess as I try to exist in the international phone booth.  A shadow of a shadow.  A nonentity bothering the human race by breathing good air.

I've slept little.  My head and heart too troubled from another epic fail.  I feel like I've got cotton wool wrapped around my face.  And no; I don't really know what that's like either.

I manage to get my cards cancelled and begin the process of having new ones sent through.  I don't think I'll be leaving San Juan any time soon.  The voice on the end of the line cannot even humour me with a time frame, but I am informed that some little scumbag has used my credit card four times this morning.  In Rivas.  I'm guessing a local, most likely driving; two of the transactions were at a petrol station.  He's possibly a regular in San Juan at the weekend, praying on young drunks.  I'm betting he makes a killing. 

I'm suddenly overtaken by wild delusions of grandeur.  I'm going to track this guy down and cut his hands off.  And then eat him.  Actually that last part is a lie and just because I'm hungry. I'm also totally bemused as to how a dark skinned Latino man used my credit card with the name 'Stuart Andrew Jameson' on the front.   I become aware my voice is raised and I'm taking it out on the Indian call centre guy.  Eventually I come back to earth.  And eat a taco.  With cheese.  And pork.  Mmmmmmm.

Ok enough of this entry.  I'm off to get a cheesy pork taco.
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