In Santiago...

While in Santiago Sterling, Scott and I stopped into a Cuban restaurant to grab a bite.  They had a kick ass band playing some amazing salsa music and everyone was dancing.  It looked like the perfect place to spend out last night in South America.  However, we almost walked out because the only table available was one in the back, away from all the music and dancing and people.  I'm so glad we decided to stay and a table right up front opened shortly anyway.  So we are sitting right up front admiring all the beautiful women and really, really amazing dancing and tossing piscolas down our throats when an older woman comes over to our table with a couple of beautiful young women and asks if we'd like to dance with them.  We all turned red and giggled like school girls, smooth right, and declined thankfully.  The woman turned out to be Damaris Leyva P. the owner of the restaurant Damaris.  After our food and being invited I decided that if I pass up the opportunity to learn salsa from one of these beauties I'd never forgive myself.  So more piscola's please.  Finally, right when I finish my last one, the one that counted, this beautiful blonde walks up to me and extends her hand.  Now let me tell you, this girl is wearing a charcoal dress that is cut so high on the bottom and so low on the top and pretty much non existent on the sides.  Needless to say, I'm terrified.  It didn't help that we were the only people on the dance floor for this song and that the band was playing just for us and that everyone in the restaurant was looking at us.  So she shows me how to shake my hips, how to spin her, how to hold her, how to step and turn and shake and dance.  She keeps saying to me "Flex it.  Flex it."  while grabbing my thighs and butt and hips.  We dance for a few minutes and the song ends.  I thank her, kiss her on the cheek and slink away to my table where the boys are now sitting with the owner and some of her friends and family.  Later, I find out that the girl I had been dancing with is a very famous actress in Chile names Lola Melnick, that she is all over tv.  I almost lose my shit.  I'm completely blown away.  Anyway, there are a couple of videos of her below and some pics.  Sorry mom for the gratuitous butt shots but hey...everyone else, enjoy.

So anyway, we end up staying at this restaurant way past close.  It's now just the owner, her son, and a really pretty, but really quite girl with black hair.  We are drinking piscola's and jack and cokes and talking and laughing and having a grand old time when Scott, out of no where, invites them back to our hotel.  Now, he said it very quite and at a time when everyone was laughing so I thought it went unnoticed.  However, about five minutes later, Damaris says that they'd all love to come over.  Next thing you know, we are in the back of a car (they woke her other son up, the good son, to come drive us drunkards around) and at the door of our hotel.  We go up and proceed to drink fantastic amounts of wine.  Damaris has also given us a bottle but says that we must save it.  She says to take it to a party and to bring it out in front of people and watch at how amazed they are at what a great bottle of wine we have brought, or something like that.  Anyway, we are all terribly drunk and listening to music and laughing and dancing around and hugging when we remember that we forgot to cut Scott's hair the other night.  We had this big plan to get drunk and cut Scott's hair while camping and then burn it.  So we remember that we need to do this and ask if Damaris would like to have the honor of first cut.  She ends up cutting all of his hair, chunks of it on the bathroom floor, in the shower, in the hallway.  She does a pretty decent job which isn't as satisfying as it would have been to see the job Sterl and I would have done but whatever.  Soon enough we are all drunk enough and tired enough, it's about six in the morning at this time, and so we say good night.  I fall asleep in the window sill with my clothes still on.  About an hour later we are up and headed to the airport for our long flight home.