I got mugged in Colombia. And it was all cause I was trying to get some.
Before you judge, let me back up and explain.
So it was my last night in Colombia. I had spent 31 incident-free days living it up in Medellín (the city made famous by it’s legendary women, Pablo Escobar…and Entourage) but now it was time to say adios.
My buddies Sol and Sean threw me a Despedida (farewell party) and I swear, it was like out of a movie. The whole night, all these characters I had met over the past 4 weeks showed up to send me off.
My salsa dancing teacher. The crazy, tri-lingual Swedish sisters. The Reggaeton producer who became my closest parcero (‘friend’ in Medellín-talk). The backpacking Canadian fiance’s. My Brazillian and Dutch guitar-mates.
Man, it wasn’t until the Despedida that I realized how much I was going to miss Medellín.
The night was a whirlwind of dancing, pizza cooking, and Aguardiente drinking (not necessarily in that order) and before I knew it, it was already 4am and time to bounce.
After a few heartfelt goodbyes, I grabbed a cab with the Colombian girl I’d been dating and we booked it out of there. And this is where I started to make a series of mistakes.
Continue reading