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eclectic
07-31-2014, 05:37 PM
There is much to write about Havana. Architecture, government, and culture are all worthy subjects of comment. But for the purpose of this note, suffice to say that Ayn Rand’s libertarian description of the conflict between the good intentions of a socialist society and the reality of human nature, are on full display in the decay of this once proud city.

In Havana Nights, I described my first visit to the Paris of the Caribbean. This is a follow-up on my second visit.

Due to a delay in my plane departure, I arrived four hours late in Havana. I was supposed to have a driver waiting to take me to Havana Centro for $30. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t there, although I waited a half hour to confirm the fact. Another enterprising driver showed me the cadeca (money exchange) and offered transport for $25. Eventually, when I was ready to go, he met the price of a competitor…$20.

Now my problem was the Casa. It was security locked. I knew where it was, but I was way late and didn’t expect the landlady to be there. It was about 8:30 p.m. My phone would not work in Cuba, and I didn’t have her number in any case. When I got there, I was greeted in the street by an old lady that lived in the building and remembered me from my earlier visit. We kind of talked…as my Spanish skills didn’t allow me to fully understand or converse. But we did communicate a little. She was a pleasant and engaging gal. Eventually, I explained my problem and asked how I could contact the landlady. “No es problema”. The landlady was upstairs. “Que Suerte” (what luck!). I was now ready for my adventure. I unpacked and cleaned up.

This was a Saturday night. I had never been to La Cecelia, and it is only open on the weekends. So this seemed like the right time to go. I grabbed a taxi, negotiated a rate, and was assured the driver knew where to go. Wrong. He weaved around, asked directions, and eventually dropped me off on a side street, adjacent to the club. I got out, paid him and looked around. A Cubano immediately approached me and asked me if I needed anything. He pointed out that the club wouldn’t open until 11:00, and it was only 10:15. Next a Cubana approached and asked if I would like some company. I spoke to them, but what I really wanted was a drink…so I took them both to a little restaurant the guy recommended a couple blocks away. Fine. A good talk. But the lady, while she spoke pretty good English, was not quite my type (She wasn’t fat, but simply a big girl…taller than me).

We left the restaurant and headed back to the club. But guess what…when I got there I realized it wasn’t La Cecelia, it was Casa de Musica Miramar! I had been there before. The cabbie had conned me.

Oh well, having gone that far, I wasn’t giving up. I got another cab and headed for the real La Cecelia. This turned out to be a restaurant, with a large walled yard that served as the music venue. It was well manicured and pleasant. The cabbie agreed to wait for an hour until I returned.

I went in, and as is my style, headed for the safety of the bar. Grabbed a Crystal beer, and began to reconnoiter. There was a stage, but no band playing. A few guys and a number of women were sitting well back from the stage. This is where I decided to land as well. Claimed a table and looked around.

There were a couple of tables of women sitting about 30 feet away. All attractive and all giving me the look and smiles. I had a sense I could make something happen. I also noticed a light skinned woman, dark skinned lady, and a guy sitting at a closer table.

I have never been with a dark girl. Always wondered about the experience. And this black gal was a beauty. Slim, perfectly made up, stiletto heals, and a beautiful face. I gave her a look…. again. ..and again. Eventually, she looked back and smiled. I wasn’t sure if she was with the guy at her table, but suspected not. In any event, I kept the eye contact going, and then motioned her over to my table. She came. She was a very sweet girl (although a smoker, which I don’t care for). Interesting. Spoke a little English.

After a couple of beers, I made my move, in a very formal and proper manner. She accepted…$70 plus $10 taxi fare. We left La Cecelia together. My taximan was still waiting, and it was an uneventful trip back to my casa.

Upon arrival, we quickly retired. She disrobed and remained a beauty. I offered a back rub followed by some special attention with a small toy. She loved it. Then she returned the attention, and it was a satisfying experience.

I expected she would stay all night, as many Cuban girls do. But at 2:30 p.m., she was on her way. Frankly, I was relieved. With the day’s travel, I’d been up for 21 hours….. it was time for a rest. My only regret was that I forgot to ask for a picture.

I slept in the next morning. It was Sunday afternoon and there wasn’t much going on. I wanted to see the Universidad de Havana, and so I took off on foot. It was about a mile, but I enjoyed the sights. Unfortunately, when I arrived, there was a heavy chain across the imposing steps to the main building. Apparently, it was off limits during the weekend. Then a matronly looking security woman (probably in her 40’s) walked over and raised the chain and invited me up the steps. It looked like I might get to see the Universidad after all.

She was pleasant. Asked where I was from. Answered a few of my questions. Then asked if I had a chica. I truthfully said “no”. We continued to walk and talk. She said “I’m a chica”. More walk and talk. She grabbed my hand as we walked. Then she touched me in a manner that could easily get her arrested in the States. We were in a secluded garden area, and I sensed she was ready to get it on right there. But she wasn’t my style, and it definitely wasn’t the right place. I gave her a few CUCs for the tour and got out. Took the walk home.

Early in the evening, I went to Casa de Musica Havana, for the matinee. It was o.k., but the same “house band” I had seen six months earlier was playing, and there were very few single girls. I left a little early, and a little desperate. I struck up a conversation with a Cubana outside the club. Probably a 6. Agreed on $40 and was about to leave when another girl caught my eve. I thought it was Gloria from my last trip. She smiled and ran over…but it wasn't Gloria. In any event, I let the first girl go and started working on the new one. Probably an 8. Wore really high white stilettos. She wanted $50 for an hour. I wanted 2 hours. Went back and forth and ended up at $70 for 2 hours.

We went back to my casa, and hiked up the six flights of stairs to my third floor apartment. The gal’s high heels clicked on the hard floors, all the way up.

After some small talk, she asked for her money up front. I very nicely explained that was not how it worked, and I assured her I was good for it. She continued to insist. So I started to put my shirt on and said it was over. Then she relented.

This had been a poor start, and I should have ended it then and there. But I didn’t. So, we had a decent but not spectacular session. It took an hour, and she was up and leaving before I had my clothes on. She wanted her money. I told her to wait until I at least had my pants on. I gave her $50 since it was an hour. She wanted $70. I pointed out the time and asked if she wanted to stay. She didn’t. I asked her to leave. She asked for a tukola soda for the road. o.k. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

Then I heard it…click…click…click…click…click…click…the sound of stiletto heals rushing down a stairway. The only reason for running would be if she took something. I was off. My old legs were flying down the stairs as I could hear the click…click…click ahead of me. I reached the door and got out on the street. I saw her about 50 yards ahead of me. I yelled “thief” and took chase. I closed fast as she reached the corner. Either she ran into a guy’s arm’s or he caught her. Couldn’t tell which. I (guessed) that she had my cell phone. She denied it. The guy reached down her blouse and pulled the phone out. Told me to pay her $10. Fine. No more arguing, I needed that cell.

Now the justice. I walked back to the casa, relieved I had saved my phone. Bumped into the old Cuban lady near the casa door. She told me it wasn’t good to argue with the girls. Just give them what they want. I had to agree with her as I headed up the stairs. Then I saw it…a white stiletto shoe! The bimbo had thrown a shoe on the rush downstairs. Costed it out at $38 in Cuba.

Monday was a day to explore the city. Walked around and looked at the old cars. Had a couple mohitos and enjoyed the salsa.

It was late afternoon, and I eventually I took a break to sit in a small park. After talking to an old Cubano who wanted me to buy him a beer, I notice two women on the other side of the park. They smiled and waved…clearly on the make. I hesitated. They were slender and young. A white girl who looked to be in her late 20’s and a black girl in her early 20’s. Each wearing tight t-shirts and cut-offs. Looked to be 7’s. Eventually, I went over and gave it the standard “hola”. They were pleasant and clearly available, but didn’t want to talk where policia could be watching. They asked me to follow them to a government store on the next block. We talked in the store. The white girl spoke some English and was full of personality. The black girl spoke very little English, and was younger. $40 was the price for either. It was a hard choice, that I couldn’t make. So, I took out a coin, explained the rules, and gave it a flip. The black girl won, and we set a date at my casa for 8:00 p.m. that night.

The white girl had a sad look. I’m always a sucker for that type of thing. But I had a back-up plan for her. We would get together the next day. She didn’t have a phone, but gave me her address to contact her.

The black girl arrived in the evening, albeit a half hour late. We had a couple Crystals, munched on some M&M’s I had brought along, and she gave me salsa lessons. Watched some evening Spanish soap operas, and hit the sack. Followed my usual routine of foreplay, and had an energetic session. Conked out about 11:00.

Woke up to the morning sounds of a Cuban apartment building. Looked over to see that my new friend had discovered the games on my cell phone, not to mention my stash of M&M’s. So, the morning picture, funny as it seemed, was a naked young black girl lying in bed eating M&M’s and playing electronic games, with a naked old white guy smirking to himself about the strange scene. Eventually, she decided it was time to leave. I paid and tipped her. Each of us was pleased and satisfied.

Then I got up and set out to make contact with Elena, the girl who had lost the coin flip. She did not have a phone, but had given me her address. I managed to find her apartment in a 3 story building with an appliance/metal repair shop on the ground floor. To get to the so-called apartments upstairs one needed to go through the cluttered shop and climb a dreary unlit staircase. Upstairs, whatever had been there 50 years ago had been cobbled up into tiny rooms. (I latter discovered this was common in Havana. To my way of thinking, these apartments were closer to indoor shacks than to what I would consider a true apartment). Elena wasn’t home, but the repair guy knew her and promised to let her know I was looking for her. Several hours later, she apparently had found a pay phone and gave me a call. We set a date for the next evening.

On my way back from Elena’s, I crossed through a park. I had been through it a couple of times. On each occasion, I would see a taximan who had a beautiful old convertible. He always wanted to give a city tour, or at least a ride somewhere. I had good talks with him, and mentioned that at some point I wanted to cross the harbor canal to visit the Castillo del Morro and parque militare (where the lighthouse and old fort are located). But I had always put him off. This time, running out of excuses, I rather flippantly said that a ride in such a gorgeous car would require a beautiful chica. He smiled and said “no es problema”. He got on his phone, and said to wait 10 minutes, and see if I liked his friend. A few minutes later, “Aviana”, arrives. She was a slender sandy blond, 24, about 5’4”, with C’s, and a nice smile. She wore cutoffs and a tight blouse. Kind of the (pretty) girl next door look, which is what I like.

We got in the back seat and the driver took off. Very cool. Cruising through old Havana in the early evening snuggling up with a little cutie. We went under the channel and came out the other side just before some type of toll plaza or checkpoint. A lady policia motioned us over (I assumed it was either because there was a gringo traveling with a young girl or because this “tour” required some type of license). The driver ignored the signal and kept going. About a mile latter motorcycle policia caught up and pulled us over. I’m not sure what transpired, but in the end we were allowed to continue. We reached the park. Got some nice pics of Havana’s harbor, and struck the deal with Aviana. $80 for the car ride and two hours of company.

We were dropped off in style at my casa. The old Cuban lady saw us arrive, and apparently approved. We had a couple Crystals and I got some salsa lessons. Then it was time for fun. Made my usual offer of a back rub followed by some battery powered play. Both were well received. Then it was my turn, and suffice to say I was pleased. She was energetic, as she needed to work hard to finish the deal. I got her number, and we set a time for a return engagement on Friday night.

It is now Wednesday, and I will be leaving Saturday afternoon. Tonight I will be with Elena again. We have agreed to dinner, and I take her to a small local place on Neptuno. White table cloths and pleasant. I studied the menu and ended up ordering curried rabbit. Elena approved and ordered the same. It was a rather long wait (we kidded that they needed to catch the rabbits), but it was well worth it. Fue delicioso. For about $6. Elena did what all of the Cuban girls seem to do when they are treated to a nice dinner…. they only eat half, and take back the rest (presumably for friends or family). I saved some of mine so she would have a little more to take back.

We returned to my casa and had another very enjoyable evening. $40. I was pleased to give her a bag of all the extra cosmetics (originally intended for Gloria) and toiletries I had brought along. They simply can’t get the stuff in Cuba.

It’s now Thursday. I am hanging out on Calle Obispo. There has been a chunky middle age gal who has seen me there a couple times. She always comes up and talks, offers a little sexo, and then settles for a soda. This time she is a little more insistent. She keeps asking what I would like. I finally breakdown and say a young flaca chica. She gets on the phone. Says to follow her. We wander through a few backstreets and then into another old building. We enter an upstairs apartment and the girl comes in. Wow! A really beautiful chica. I make it a point to ask for her ID to check her age. She says she is 18. (The age of consent in Cuba is 16). The deal is $50 at my casa, with a $20 finders fee to the other gal. We take separate biki-taxis to the casa, and it is a very memorable evening.

It’s now my last night in Havana. Aviana is returning. We have a Crystal and spent the early evening watching TV. Enjoyed another very sexy session. Afterwords, she asked if she could have the toy…for “happy in la noche”. I said “no es problema”.

Aviana has now left, and it was only about 11:00 p.m. So I went out for a walk. I had met a guy at a restaurant earlier in the day who had promised he had a friend that would be interested in getting together. I had explained that the only time I was available was Saturday morning, before I left for the airport. Now, I was going back to talk to him again, and meet the girl, to see if it would be worthwhile. He introduced us and it was a thumbs up. She was slender and cute. Not stunning, but a solid 7. She would come to my casa at 10:30 the next morning. $50.

This last chica arrived on time in the morning, full of energy, and with a smile on her face. It was indeed a happy ending to a week in Havana.