The Unluck of the Irish

It was the vacation we were highly anticipating – Sam and I were off  to South America for three weeks to hike, relax and of course find some blog stories. In typical Pam fashion, this story is very me (so basically rated PG) it still has some giggles and fun in it, and sorts of selective irresponsibility – at least more than I’m used to.

Our story starts with Sam and I sitting in a café enjoying lake views a few days into our travels. As we finished, we noticed these two adorable boys walk in and sit at the table beside us. Sam and I eyed each other, having not really met any cool and cute English speaking friends yet we saw this as our perfect opportunity. We mustered up the courage and played dumb asking them about their accents (though they were unmistakably Irish), our small talk opener landed them a seat at our table and we began chatting. The boys were cute and fun, maybe a little young for us but we rolled with it because they were the most entertaining people that we had met. A bit of chatting later, and they asked our plans for the night. Since we were in a pretty low pro city with very minimal nightlife, their offer to watch the sunset with a joint sounded like a perfect night.

We had planned to watch the sunset from our hotel, but once we arrived we saw that a big hill was blocking our view. Our one Irish friend had a wonderful idea (I say with sarcasm) to run up and watch it from the top of the hill mountain. Sam was super into the idea and ran ahead, leaving me and my Irish boy at the bottom. This is where I curse Sam – being not dressed and ready for the hike and also not yet acclimatized to the 3800 masl altitude and now I had to “hike cute” with this boy. My hiking cute thing didn’t last long, but as I walked my Irish friend stayed sweet, even holding my hand parts of the way up and chatting with me. Eventually, feeling too focused to just make it up, I sent the Irish boy up and slowly made it up after them, just making it in time for the sunset. We enjoyed the chill vibes and sunset and had a lot of fun chatting these new Irish friends – Sam and I both wondering if we’d make it a blog post even though they were a few years younger. Once we finally made it down (try hiking an uneven path down a mountain in the dark), we discussed what to do next. Maybe it was everyone’s own confusion, or the fact we were making plans with young Irish boys but we couldn’t manage to make solidified plans with our new friends – meaning that our night was over.

We did manage to say bye to our new friends the next day – hearing that they proceeded to stay in their room and get “fucked up” for the duration of the night, while Sam and I opted for some Netflix and sleep. Maybe better off we didn’t end up hanging out with them, but still gave us a fun/cute adventure and set the tone for our love of Irish friends.

Which leads me to our next eventful evening at a hostel bar. Sam and I were expecting (and I was surprisingly ready for) a fun and wild night, so we were hoping that the hostel would deliver. After sitting with a few friends we made, Sam and I started scoping the bar for hot boys – hopefully a duo. Sam pointed out the hot guy in the pink shirt, and my eyes immediately darted to his friend and it was a go. We jumped in at the opportunity to comment about the glitter on their faces, and found ourselves Irish boys 2.0. Sam again went for the tall brunette, as I chatted up the shorter blonde guy. Looked like we found our pots of gold, and stayed with them at the bar. Let me say, wheeling boys at the bar is definitely not my forte, so as Sam quickly and naturally chatted up her boy I was still awkward and very sober. Luckily (maybe?) for me, my Irish boy was nice and forward making it easy for me and I can say I was proud of myself for flirting back better than I usually ever do. Apparently, he got a good read on it too because without notice mid conversation he leaned in and began making out with me.

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I can’t remember my last bar make-out and for good reason – because I hated it. I could tell Sam had seen, and thought it was hilarious, as I tried to steer away from him before he could make out with me again. I did think he was cute, and maybe now wasn’t the opportune time to tell him that I don’t make out with boys in public bars. He went for it again and I kissed back a bit, but as Sam describes I basically stood there and let him make out with me. He then proceeded to ask if I wanted to go to the corridor. I don’t know what the hell he wanted to do there, but I saw it as my perfect out and proceeded to say “No thank you, I’m going to dance on the bar with Sam” and ran away.

So maybe all that glittered wasn’t gold that night, but it was one of my more scandalous evenings that now warrants a blog post. Shortly after finding Sam, we proceeded to leave but Sam’s Irish man wanted her to stay. After a quick dilemma, I sent her back to the bar to find her pot of gold, but he had taken it as a sign of disinterest and went along back to the end of the rainbow. Though Sam may describe it as an unsuccessful evening (or two), I figured it would be good content for a blog post – and also highlight our apparent interest in Irish boys (don’t be surprised when our next stories come from our vacation to Ireland…just kidding). But in typical Pam fashion, I had to share my “wild” nights abroad!

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