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packsbeforesnacks · 5 years ago

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The $10,000 Question || Ricky & Winn

TIMING: Friday, February 14th, 2020 (Valentine’s Day), Sunset LOCATION: Harris Island & Portland, ME PARTIES: @ricky-corderbro & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: After a $10,000 donation to the school’s arts program, Winn lets Ricky take him on the date he paid for. The two have a heart-to-heart, then a stomach-to-stomach. WARNINGS: A couple instances of graphic (read: mature) language.

All told, Ricky had not expected to have his little online stunt net the public school system a ten grand donation that, from the complicated legalese he could muddle his way through, would see them burn in hell if they used a single red cent for anything other than arts funding. Slightly more complicated was the fact that the donation had come from Winn. All things being equal, the blind date they’d had hadn’t been terrible, and while he’d never admit this to Winn, the sex had been mind-blowing, but he had no intention of pursuing a relationship with the man. Or… rather… with the werewolf. He was acutely aware that his own species identification would probably be a topic for the evening, but, for the moment he was content with trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do for the date.

He’d tossed around several ideas; from something home cooked to renting a boat and having a moonlight meal in the Bay. But somehow that all seemed to fizzle in the face of the fact that Winn was obscenely rich enough to drop ten thousand dollars on a Valentine’s Day date without batting an eyelash. It flew in the face of what Ricky at least thought he knew about the man, but it was fresh out of his shower, smoothing curl serum he’d swear he never used through his hair, that it all finally clicked into place. As he laid out his suit he made a phone call, tying the tie saw him make another one, tying reservations down with the same surety his fingers used as they tied the knot, and finally, as he stood in front of the mirror in a charcoal pinstripe suit, he had everything ready to go. “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He quickly typed out, throwing some toiletries and… essentials… into a small bag and striding towards the door. “WINSTON!” he shouted, not even knowing if his roommate was home, “I’LL BE BACK TOMORROW.”

Panic wasn’t a typical emotion for Winn. He was calm in a crisis, a confidante for those who needed it, and, if he did say so himself and he did, pretty generally chill. One bad habit, though, one that Winn had never quite been able to break, was his inability to turn down a dare, or be called on a bluff when he could just as easily decide that his bluff was the truth. It was more than that, though. His inheritance was buried deep in the electrical grid of Virginia, a monopoly among monopolies that often did more harm than good, he knew. The trust had vested when he’d turned twenty-one, and all of the money his grandfather, coal and gristle, had put into it for his sole “heir” had come into Winn’s possession. What his parents, and his deceased grandfather, hadn’t counted on was the sole heir becoming a werewolf (or bein’ gay, but that was… less a dealbreaker). Certainly hadn’t expected that same heir to fuck up so bad that he wouldn’t even think of leaning into any aspect of their family’s various business.

No, Winn didn’t know what to do with all that money. He said it all the time, and it was true: he didn’t want for much, really. So, when Ricky had come around soliciting donations to the arts, somethin’ Winn knew wasn’t gettin’ the funding that hockey was? Well, what was $10,000 between (mutually attracted) friends (who had previously hooked up, and then not gone further than that, and hell if Winn was gonna be out-stubborned, and who was to say if Ricky even wanted to do more than some athletic, excellent fucking that had left Winn the best kinda sore for days)? So, yeah, he’d made a big choice and he wasn’t gonna fuck it up, no sir. … So, yeah, little panic. Just a little.

Which was to say, he’d been flying around town all afternoon, renting a car — as if they’d ride on his bike or in the beat-up jalopy he used most of the week — transferring money, writing up paperwork, hassling a notary, causin’ a desk lady at the school to pass out, tryin’ to find one goddamn suit that wasn’t shit-tier, and then beggin’ Blanche to tailor it for him all by six o’clock, dammit Ricky. He was thankful he’d gotten a haircut the day before Valentine’s, otherwise he’d probably have passed out somewhere in the middle there.

All things considered, though, he knew he cleaned up well. Hell, he’d modeled. The suit, a violet three-piece, had worried him a bit — was it too bold? — but Blanche assured him that the cut would distract Ricky from the choice of color. Lines of a lighter purple ran through the white silken shirt underneath. The tie and pocket square, a deep, dotted navy, had been Blanche’s choice: he’d bought about six, and trusted Blanche to match well, something his colorblind eyes struggled with. Just as he finished, sliding a watch on his wrist with just enough time to spare, Winn got a text from Ricky: “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He shoved a couple hundreds at Blanche as he left, sliding into the jet black Maserati he’d lucked and charmed (and paid) his way into and sped off towards Harris Island.

He pulled up at 5:59, walked to Ricky’s door, and rapped a quick three. As the door opened, he whistled lowly. “Wow. And I thought I was dressin’ to impress.”

He liked to think that he had at least some semblance of an idea of how Winn would roll up to his house, but when a Maserati of all things pulled down the long drive and Winn stepped out of the car in a suit that looked like it’d been tailor made for him, Ricky was starting to wonder if he was punching outside his weight class. As he walked out onto the porch he heard a low wolf whistle coming from the general direction of the main house, and looked over to see Dee flashing him a thumbs up from her back porch, “Back inside, Dee! You’re old and it’s cold.” The thumbs up quickly turned into her flipping him off and he turned his attention to the supermodel on his porch. “Well… I can’t show up to a date looking like a slob. First thing’s first…” He held a hand out. “Phone. Can’t have you guessing where we’re going before we get there.” Ricky had this date planned out down to the last detail, and a solid portion of it was contingent on Winn not figuring out what was happening until the last possible minute.

“Don’t worry. I won’t go looking through your pictures. Though I’ve already sucked your dick, so I can’t imagine I’d see anything in there that’d shock me.” His shoes crunched along the gravel as he walked to the car, carefully putting his bag in the back as he leaned against the side of what he prayed was a rental (the thought that Winn had bought a sports car for this date, while believable, was too much to handle). “Come on! I’ve got plans, Woods. I’ve got a whole evening impeccably planned out and we gotta hit the road!” He couldn’t keep himself from smiling broadly, this may have started out weird and awkward but Ricky was genuinely looking forward to the evening.

When Ricky had been, well, his normal Ricky self, Winn felt a coil in his gut, that he didn’t know had wound, ease up, if only a little. Winn was well-aware of the ways in which this whole… thing could’ve come off. He placed his phone gingerly into Ricky’s hand, fingers brushing against the other man’s palm and Winn blushin’ up to his ears at the mention of their night. “Who knows,” he whispered conspiratorially, “Maybe I want you to find what’s in there, Ricks.” He smiled, a bit… giddy? Yeah, giddy. The first date had been a surprise, if a pleasant one. This one, well, he may have paid for it, sorta, but… Ricky didn’t have to dress up so nice for him, if he didn’t want to. It was a different view of the man. He’d had his hands grasped in the curls that were pulled back, he’d seen the tan skin beneath the three-piece, he’d— Well, he was getting side-tracked, and Blanche had tailored the suit well enough that going too far down that rabbit hole would be a problem. Unless Ricky was into— Nope, down Winner.

In the time he’d spaced, Ricky had made his way over to the Maserati, leaned up against it like the best bad idea Winn had ever had. A whole evening? Damn. Winn smirked as he held Ricky’s door open, gesturing the other man in with a practiced air of cordialness — thanks Cotillion. He slid in, careful not to brush his hair, stickin’ up a bit with product, against the roof of the car. “Go ahead and set up your phone on the car’s Bluetooth. I’m a good conversationalist, I know, but quiet seems… neither of our speeds.” He winked, letting the implication hang in the air. This was good. This was great. “Where to, Cordero?” he said, turning the key in the ignition and feelin’ the car growl (ha) back to life.

The energy between them was a constant back and forth that straddled the line between flirtation and outright verbal fucking, and as Ricky took Winn’s phone and slid it into his jacket he leaned over, patting the well-scruffed cheek of his date, “Well then, I’ll have to dig through it. We’ll be in the car for about an hour. I’m sure I can find something on here that’ll amuse me.” As the car pulled down the long drive and out onto the road he smiled, stretching out a little as he hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth and the sounds of Barns Courtney’s Fire started to fill the car, “Head towards the highway. We’re going south. You’re gonna wanna start goin’ towards Portland. I’ll tell you more when you need to know it.”

He turned in his seat to make sure his bag wasn’t rattling around too much in the backseat, knowing full well he had important things inside of it, before turning to look at Winn and his (as much as he was loathe to admit it) incredibly handsome profile. “So. Mr. Woods. Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff. I mean I know I’m a damn good lay and some charming company but that… is a lot of fucking money. That big a patron of the arts?” He let the question hang in the air for a few moments before smiling wickedly and modifying it, “Didn’t know that was a traditionally werewolf characteristic.”

“Good taste in music,” Winn said offhand, trying to pay attention to the road as the drums and deep baritone filled his speakers. Winn knew his grin had gotten bigger when the other man had patted his cheek. He liked Ricky’s hands (was that a weird thing to say?). He’d ignored the quip Ricky had made about goin’ through his phone, knowin’ (hopin’?) it was mostly a joke. It wasn’t like there was anythin’ too incriminatin’ on it — no, if anything, Winn was embarrassed by the lack of content on his phone. Save for texts and a couple time-wasters (and ESPN alerts, ‘course), he wasn’t glued to his phone and it showed. ‘Course, there were a couple’a… personal pictures (... and videos) on there, he wasn’t stuck in the Stone Age. Some stuff from his second time as a model, too. But nothin’, like Ricky had said, the man hadn’t seen before.

“An hour, huh? Want the windows down? It’s not freezin’, and headin’ towards Portland’ll take us along the coast for a little while. The Maserati, for all its beauty, smelled a little too much like fine leather and oil. He caught Ricky moving out of the corner of his eye, and tilted his head over just slightly, inclining one eyebrow as Ricky adjusted a bag. He caught the man’s eye for a moment, but knew he’d get shit for askin’ too many question and, besides— “Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff.” When Ricky mentioned Winn being a wolf, smiling like he’d struck gold, Winn had to grin back, a little… wolfish. “Some werewolves,” he started, “are a big fan of artists, actually.”

He winked at Ricky, before turning back to face the road. “I grew up around some of the best art in the country. Didn’t always get it, but hear that’s not necessarily the point, and I usually enjoyed it regardless. And, well…” He coughed. “It, um, seemed important to you. And, like I said, not like my money’s goin’ to anything useful.” It felt like he was dodging a question, for some reason, but Winn had no reason to lie to Ricky. “The money thing just never… came up, especially since you refused to let me pay for your dinner.” And the werewolf thing… well. Ricky got why he hadn’t blabbed about that, he hoped.

“I have excellent… if eclectic… taste in music.” This was something Ricky normally listened to in the workshop as he was carving, but it seemed suited for an evening drive on his way to a date, so he’d just started the playlist up. His fingers rapped in time with the music, head bopping along as he enjoyed what was undoubtedly the most luxurious car he’d ever ridden in. The whole situation was weird. How dressed up he was, the car he was riding in, who he was riding in said car with… it was like watching pieces of a puzzle you thought you knew the solution to come together to be something entirely different and foreign. Not bad, necessarily, just… foreign.

“You know, it’s a pity we didn’t take your car… or my truck.” He withdrew a joint from his breast pocket, watching it roll around in the clear vial that kept it from making his suit smell like he’d just gotten out of a Phish concert, “We could have had a very relaxing drive down to Portland. But… as it stands… I don’t think we should hotbox a Maserati.” He put it back into his pocket as he listened to what was a very unsatisfactory answer. “Lots of things are important to lots of people, Winn. Doesn’t mean everyone gets ten thousand dollars.”

The man’s comment about werewolves liking artists made Ricky chuckle, and he squeezed Winn’s thigh, “Uh-huh. Well… all of that is a terribly unsatisfactory answer, but, I guess that’s the best I can hope for this early in the evening. I’ll have to get you good and liquored up over dinner, which is on me, by the way, and get you to spill all the beans. You can get drunk right? That’d be such a drag if you were going to be a sober Susan all night. We’ve got plans… and don’t worry about driving home. We won’t be going back until tomorrow.”

The leather hugged Winn, like an old friend it hadn’t seen in a while. He had the money to throw down on a car like this, sure, but he knew himself too well. The bikes got more use than his shitty car, and he shelled out enough to keep them in good shape in the Maine winter. He could drive a graduate student-level car. He didn’t mind. Much.

When Ricky pulled the joint from his pocket, Winn winced. “Ah, sorry about that, man. I just… my car’s a mess.” True enough, and Ricky hadn’t seen his car. Not like Winn thought he’d judge, except… well, okay, he probably would. But it wouldn’t matter to him. Winn knew that, rationally. “We always could. I have the car for the weekend,” he said, only a bit dubious of his ability to get smoke out of the leather. Winn hummed along as the song faded and the next started up, reaching a hand down from the wheel to brush a thumb across the back of the hand Ricky had placed on his thigh. Focus on the road and not the devastatingly attractive man sitting next to you, Winner. Ricky squeezed, and Winn groaned. Dirty pool, Cordero, he knew Winn was—

Winn started talkin’, half to respond to Ricky, half to distract himself from the warm hand on his thigh. “I’m not tryin’ to be cagey, Ricks. I didn’t… think much about it. I would’ve done it if you’d asked me outright, date or no. The ‘cue was that good,” he quipped. He tried to resist askin’ a question about their direction. “Pretty presumptuous, if you’re askin’ me, Mr. Cordero. You’re lucky you’re pretty, otherwise might not let you get away with that.” He snickered, unable to take himself too seriously. “But no, I mean— Yes. I can get drunk. Takes me a minute longer than other folks, and, well, you’re responsible for bringin’ out drunk Winn. He’s a little… handsy. So is sober, Winn, though.” He moved his hand that had been on Ricky’s to give the other man’s thigh the same squeeze, hand a little further down than Ricky’s had been. “But I’m happy to be here, with you, y’know? Money or no. You make good company.”

Ricky caught the wince as Winn looked over at the joint in his hand, “You have the car for the weekend but I don’t think there’s a detailer talented enough to get the smell of good weed out of the fine-ass leather of this car. Don’t worry though. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later.” Winn’s hand rested on the back of his own and the silence stretched out for a moment; in the momentary lacuna between songs it seemed extra quiet, but the music kicked up again, the same gentle song by KALEO that he used as his alarm in the morning, and that long long moment lapsed into the moment after, and then the moment after that, “I didn’t think you were being cagey.”

He laughed, removing his hand and looking at his phone to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, “If I thought you were being cagey and just trying to slum it with us “normal” low-class folks I wouldn’t have been as chill, but, your finances are your business and yours alone.” It wasn’t like Ricky had been particularly forthcoming about his own level of wealth. While he wasn’t even close to the same tax bracket as Winn it was unlikely he would ever truly want for anything.

“I don’t recall you complaining about my level of presumption when I had you bent over my washing machine the other week! But since I’m already acquainted with how handsy sober Winn can be, I think I’ll take my chances with Drunk Winn too.” Winn’s hand squeezed his thigh and he shot him a wicked smile, “Now who’s presumptuous? And we’ll see if you sing that same tune when you see how the evening unfolds. You might regret purchasing this date afterall.”

“If anyone suggested I was “slumming” it with you, they’d get a laugh and a punch ‘cross the face. Laugh, seein’ as how you look like a million bucks. Deckin’, ‘cause I’ve known too many rich assholes to have the patience for that shit.” Winn grimaced. “Not even a full moon week and I’m talkin’ about throwin’ hands. Must be somethin’ in the water.”

He listened attentively, only sputtering a little when Ricky mentioned their escapades again. “Ricky, there’s not a whole lot you could say that’d make me regret this, and, ‘sides, it seems like I’m already gettin’ my money’s worth. And you’ll forgive my rudeness if I remember holdin’ you up by your ass and spreading you open against your dryer a little better. Hard to forget, that.” Winn ran his hand down the middle of Ricky’s thigh, and back up. Two could play at this game, long as Ricky liked. But… “You’ve got me all pent up about the night’s activities, can’t I get even a little hint? I’ll make it worth your while. You name the price.” He snorted. “Not money, though, think I should keep a little around for a rainy day.”

Winn took a glance out his window, at the smattering of stars casting their light on the water. The tinted windows of the Maserati ruined the effect, just a little, but it was still a sight to behold. “It’s beautiful out, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself than to Ricky. It was hard, had been hard, when he’d been in Europe, to remember to take the time to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. To slow down. Way this night was goin’ so far, he figured it was a good time as any to take every moment in.

“Oh, we all know hanging out with me is slumming it in the best way.” Ricky chuckled, acutely aware that he lived a life of privilege; from his financial comfort, to his social comfort, even to his supernatural comfort. He was reminded, again, that he hadn’t seen or talked to Skylar since their last unfortunate meeting, and a cloud passed briefly over his face, one he quickly strove to erase as he laughed. “Do you get a moon period? Are you super moody right before the moon. Do I need to start stocking up on ice cream and chocolate to throw at you as we start to approach a full moon? Maybe a heating pad and a nice romantic comedy to tide you over?”

Winn’s incredibly detailed recounting of the last time he’d been at Ricky’s house made him flush a scarlet that he was glad was mostly hidden by the car’s dim interior, “Uh huh. You would remember that. Pity I don’t have security cameras. Would have been one hell of a home movie.” His laugh overrode the music for a moment at Winn’s comment, tutting gently, “Oh… you’re going to be a helluva lot more pent up before the night is through, Winn. Don’t you worry… I’ve got a lot planned for us. You’re going to be getting your money’s worth, and a night you’re not going to forget.”

It was an abrupt change in Winn’s tone that accompanied the comment about the beauty around them, and Ricky nodded slowly, “Take exit seventeen up here. But yeah. It is. You know I’ve lived here my whole life… only been outside the state a couple times, and only outside the country once. But still I think Maine is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I love it here.”

Winn groaned. He’d been a big fan of chocolate, before the transformation. He could have a little, on occasion, but he tried to resist, hoping eventually he’d forget how it tasted — like vegetarians always claimed they did with meat. There was a solitary container of M&M’s in the freezer, for when he broke and just needed it. “No chocolate, please. We’re — some werewolves — allergic to it. Dog problems, y’know?”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But, uh… Yeah, I get… grumpy, but mostly I get out the aggression on the ice. We have… other needs, too. Fightin’ and fuckin’, the werewolf story. If you give into one, you can usually mitigate the other. Since I’m not gettin’ laid every day of my life, I bury myself in burning out the wolf in practice the days ‘round the moon. Go punch trees, be the world’s worst karate stereotype.” He let Ricky talk for a moment, watching for the exit he’d mentioned, only stopping him to joke — “Record me any time, bro, I look great on a camera, I can show off for you.” — and to snort a little at Ricky’s own humor.

Winn took the exit as Ricky talked about his feelings for Maine, letting out a small sigh and deciding to chance a bit of the rawness Cece had (sort of) complimented him on. “I… miss my home, sometimes, y’know? I never thought I’d leave, really. Down south is different, all mountains and valleys and folks who’ll shoot your face off — though, glad to be away from them, uh, mostly. But your home helps me forget about that. A lot, actually. Don’t know if I’ve ever said it aloud, but I don’t know. I… think I could see myself finding a home here.” His voice got quiet, buried in the music thrumming through the car, “I hope.”

Winn cleared his throat. “Could also go traveling the world, though! Y’ever been to Europe? Lots of good food, good people!” He laughed a little too loud, he thought, but maybe he was overthinking it. It’s not like he was tryin’ to hide from Ricky, but, well, maybe Ricky wasn’t the only person who thought he could scare folks away.

Ricky bit his lip for a long moment, taking several deep breaths and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I am going to try really hard to be respectful here, really very hard… But… you’re telling me… you’re a goddamn werewolf… And you can’t fucking have chocolate.” It took every single iota of control that he had not to laugh hysterically at what seemed to be the funniest bit of supernatural carryover. “That’s… That’s a very interesting bit of dietary restriction and I will be sure to keep that in mind when I order for us this evening.”

Several deep breaths later and he had the urge to laugh entirely under control. “Well you know if you had to be any karate stereotype, you picked a good one. You could have been “weird divorced dad who’s a strip mall karate instructor” and that’s just not a fucking good look for anyone. You can smell the desperation on that one a mile away.”

He listened, carefully and silently, as Winn very uncharacteristically talked at length about something that seemed very personal and sincere. It was a good look for him. When he finished, and Ricky was sure he had finished because he didn’t want to interrupt that particular bout of sincerity, he nodded slowly. “Once. My parents are… or were… or I guess are and were…” he paused for a moment, parsing out the grammatical accuracy of the statement he was about to make, “Actually you know what, it is were. My mom’s dead and my dad moved back. Anyway. My parents were immigrants. My mom was from Ireland and my dad was from Venezuela. So, after I graduated high school… Like literally several hours after… I got on a plane and flew out to meet my mom’s family.”

He paused again, looking ahead at the several conversational roads that diverged in front of him, “My mom’s clan. With her dead, I was the only Selkie left in White Crest, that I knew about, and books can only teach you so much. So…. I spent three months before my freshman year of college in this fucking TINY little fishing village north of Galway. Didn’t speak English til I came back to Maine, just learned… Everything. That I didn’t know about how to be what I am. So… in a very long winded answer to your question… yeah I’ve been to one very very small rural part of Europe once.”

“I appreciate your restraint,” Winn deadpanned, knowing how his chocolate problem sounded, after he’d said it aloud. Ricky was clearly trying to phrase it as delicately as possible, and he did appreciate it, but… c’mon, it wasn’t that funny. There were theories about why the chocolate allergy carried over were varied, and some lucky assholes didn’t even have to deal with it. He snorted at the assessment of stereotypes, quipping a short, “Yeah, that’s not the kind of thing I want people to smell on me, y’know?” One small turn apparently deserved another, and Winn cocked his head to the side, trying to make as much eye contact with Ricky as was possible while still keeping an eye on the road. Luckily, and maybe surprisingly, the road that Ricky was leading them down was fairly clear of cars.

“I, uh—” he started. He knew from his classes, and personal experience, that Ricky had just divulged some fairly deep information, including information about, well, the secret to end all secrets, right? Winn sounded the word “selkie” out in his head while he thought about his response, racking his brain to figure out what that could mean. He thought back to the late night texts Ricky had sent, wondered if he’d meant to tell Winn. Winn wasn’t a guarded person, not really, but he had… the impression that Ricky was, that maybe Ricky being honest with him was something precious, to be cherished. “My father was an immigrant, too. Raised in Singapore for most of ‘is childhood, till his parents decided to send him to the States for college, told him not to come back. I… always appreciated what he did, I guess, for me. Ma was the granddaughter of a coal miner, daughter of a “self-made man” type. Neither of them were werewolves, don’t know I am. Don’t speak to them much.”

He paused, considering how best to say this, not wanting to come across as callous, but knowing, if Ricky’s mother had died before Ricky graduated from high school, that going too far into the “gentle hands'' school would be, maybe, offensive. Grief stung, but pity stung worse. “I’m sorry about your mom,” he settled on. It wasn’t enough, but was there ever anything that could be?

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what a Selkie is. But I’d like to hear more about it, if you’ll tell me. No pressure. Just… from one shifter to another, I know it can be… weird, reconciling two parts of yourself. Not to, um, assume that’s your experience. I know…” A pause. “... friends o’ mine, who don’t see it as two halves. And for me, for someone who chose this life, I know that I usually feel… more free, when I’m the wolf. Wouldn’t say happier, jus’... freer.” He tentatively put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “And thank you. Know that maybe sounds weird, but… I wasn’t lyin’, I do want to get to know you better, Ricky. Whatever parts you want to show me. So, I’m grateful.”

He glanced at the clock on the dash, doing some quick mental math. “And let me know if there’s another turn I should be lookin’ for. Seems like maybe we should be gettin’ close? To… wherever.” He left his hand on Ricky’s shoulder, waiting for the other man to tell him to move it, or lean in, or do whatever he needed to do. Winn was a hands-on kinda guy, in more ways than one. His words were good, but his actions could speak louder, he thought. He waited.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to call the restaurant and tell them to cancel the chocolate fountain I ordered for dessert.” Ricky was only human… ish… and he could only maintain so much composure upon hearing that his werewolf date for the evening had a legit dog-like chocolate allergy.

To his credit, Winn managed to make it very, very clear that Ricky’s story held his full attention, and the road only part of it, as Ricky laid out at least the framework for the story about what he was and where he’d come from. When he’d finished, Winn started his own story, and it helped Ricky at least start to put the puzzle pieces together of what the man behind the frat boy bravado was like.

He couldn’t help but laugh, however, when Winn admitted he had no idea what Ricky was. “We’re not terribly common. Especially in America. We tend to stick to the UK where we’re from originally. As far as I know, after my mom died I was the only Selkie in White Crest for over a decade. But… we’re shifters, like you, but instead of a wolf, I’m a seal. Born a seal, first turned into a human when I was about two. We’re at-will shifters, as long as we have our skin, so I’m not chained to the whims of the moon like you are. Take a left up here on Hall.” He pointed to the intersection in question and then scratched at the stubble on his chin.

“I never really… I came into the shifter thing at an advantage. We’re born, not made, and I was lucky enough to be born to a family where it was all really commonplace and ordinary, so I never really had to go through the whole ‘duality of identity’ crisis that I know a lot of shifters do. I am a seal, who can turn into a human. That’s just me. I’ve got bigger problems than trying to work out how to wrap my head around that, you know? That’s just… The boring and average part.”

As the car made the turn and he looked at the map on his phone a wolfish smile started to creep its way across his face. “Then up here you’re gonna take a right onto Congress. After about… looks like a mile… the place we’re headed should be on the left. I think you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Well, I’m clearly not the best educated wolf on the block. No one mentioned anythin’ other than werewolves, ‘fore I got changed. Selkie,” Winn started, trying the word out in his mouth again. “Seal. Got it. But, dude. That’s so fuckin’ rad. I don’t, uh, mean to, like— I just, it’s cool to not be the only supernatural thing out there in the big wide world. It’s cool that you’re a part of this, that I mean… that we don’t have to hide that shit between each other?” He felt a light flush rise to his cheeks and ears. “Um— Uh, but—” What the shit, Winner, get your act together.

“We do both have a connection to the moon, though, right?” he tried, grasping at something else Ricky had mentioned to pivot the subject. Moon. Okay, he could talk about the moon. “Don’t know much about seals either, but ocean tides must be somethin’ you’re aware of, I can’t… like, imagine that, if the moon looks at the sea funny, that wouldn’t change somethin’ for y’all? Swimmin’ patterns? Where the good fish are? Same for us ‘n deer or other forest grub. I mean, stop me if I’m totally off base.” He took the first turn. “Wish it was out tonight, really. Not gonna rise till after 3, I think. I haven’t looked at an almanac in a second.”

He took the next turn Ricky pointed out, driving down Congress and takin’ in the sights of Portland. He’d been down here a couple times, and it was a softer sort of city than D.C., but he liked it. “Ricky,” Winn said, turning to look at him fully for a brief moment, eyes soft in the dim light of the car. “Don’t really think there’s much ‘boring’ or ‘average’ ‘bout you, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.” He turned back in his seat, driving comfortably along, keeping an eye to his left for somethin’ that’d be… obvious. He cracked the window ‘bout halfway, to see a little better past the tint, and that’s when the smell hit him. Fuck.

Winn pushed down a little harder on the pedal, almost instinctively, headin’ towards the source of that smell. Eventually, his eyes caught on a low, brick building, with “SALVAGE BBQ” written on the side in what (Winn thought) was black-and-yellow lettering. He could kiss Ricky. Actually… Winn parallel parked the Mas and, with a big grin, unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the middle of the car to plant a (oops, probably a little wet?) kiss against Ricky’s stubble, smiling against the other man’s cheek. “You’re a man after my own heart, you know that?” he said, a little breathy. Was he being too excited? He was prolly bein’ too excited. But, well, his metaphorical tail was waggin’. He leaned back over, open up his door. “Bro,” he said, reverently.

“I mean… You still very, very much have to hide this shit, but not from me.” Ricky gave Winn his patented heart melting crooked smile, laying on the charm extra thick as he listened to a blushing Winn navigate his way through some moon logic. “Mmmmm. Maybe technically? But the moon has no practical effect on my day to day life. I can change during any phase of it, and my sense of smell is so acute that I always know where the good fish are. I think the closest connection to the moon I have is that it’s safest for me to change at night, so I’m just used to swimming around by its light.”

He let the conversation trail off a little as they neared their destination, watching Winn carefully. The minute the man cracked the window, Ricky knew he’d figure it out; if he could smell the bbq with seal sense then Winn definitely could with werewolf scent. Sure enough, Ricky could swear he saw Winn’s ears actually perk up when he caught the scent and sight of the building they were approaching. “I’m pretty and dumb, but did you really think I was making us get all dressed up for some fancy ass shit? Nah bruh, that’s a bait and goddamn switch right there. So congrats, we’re gonna be the only two people in three-piece suits up in what has been lauded as Portland’s best bbq place.”

He laughed at the excited kiss planted on his cheek before getting out of the low sports car, feet crunching across the gravel as they walked towards the door. “Sit, boy.” He pointed to a nearby table with “Reserved Cordero” on it before walking over to the counter, “Yeah hi. I called ahead earlier. Cordero. We had two Meat Fatalities, quart of collard greens, quart of mac and cheese, two sides of the BFFs, large order of hush puppies, and three orders of pickles. Could I also get two waters, two of that bourbon barrel-aged stout I see on tap, and about a whole roll of paper towels? We’re gonna need it.” He carefully balanced the beer and water as he wandered back over to the table, setting them down and grinning, “I ordered enough food for about fifteen people. So. I hope you came hungry. This is only stop one. Gotta fuel up.”

Ricky had a real nice smile, Winn thought. One that Winn wanted to keep puttin’ on the other man’s face; after all, he had a whole night to do it. So, he’d been wrong about the tides affectin’ Ricky. Big whoop. He had time to learn the ins and outs (... and ins and outs) of selkie biology. He’d picked up what he needed about wolves, easy enough. “You’re a goddamn menace,” Winn said as Ricky explained his plan, “... but one who’s got me pegged pretty well, it seems. This is the shit.” Winn’s laugh was big and full, enough so that a pedestrian looked over for a moment in concern. But fuck that dude, he was having fun.

The inside of the place reminded him a little of the campgrounds that the National Park service had set-up through the Shenandoah — long picnic tables situated against the windowed wall, smaller tables set up throughout, a little dinery, a little rough-’n-tumble. “Sit, boy.” did things to Winn that he’d be ashamed to admit in polite company, sending a pleasant shock up his spine. The wolf felt what Winn felt about the whole affair, but more… primally. Winn sat down, shifting his suit pants while Ricky’s back was turned and hoping like hell a wannabe Karen hadn’t seen him pretty much fondlin’ his dick underneath the table. He had a reputation to keep in tact, damn it.

He heard bits and pieces of what Ricky had ordered for them, wiping the mental (and, frankly, physical, whoops) drool away from the side of his mouth. Winn hadn’t eaten since that morning, to be prepared for whatever the date might entail — a ten-thousand dollar fuck far from out of the question. Mentally, he made a deal of sorts between the two halves of himself. No, you can’t just shove your face down in the meat and go to town, that’s gross. Yes, if you aren’t satisfied, I’ll coax the beautiful seal man into another helpin’. No growling, no matter how hungry or horny you are. Just… don’t. Non-wolves think it’s weird.

When Ricky mentioned the sheer amount of grub he ordered, Winn just grinned, too delighted for words. He took a long pull of the stout that Ricky had gotten, the oakyness slidin’ down his throat just right before respondin’. Leaning across the table, reminiscent of the first date they’d had, Winn said, at his usual volume (which is to say, slightly above an inside voice), “What’s our plan of attack here, Ricks? You’re the ‘cue master, you’ve gotta guide me. Teach me. Tantalize me.” A wink and a smirk, as was his typical choice when bein’ forward on purpose. “And if this is only stop one, I can’t wait to see what comes next. Bet it’s a big ol’ secret, though, huh?” He leaned back in his seat, head cocked subtly to the side, takin’ in the smell of the ‘cue… and of Ricky, the wolf waggin’ its tail happily, at peace with itself — with himself.

It was infinitely edifying to Ricky to see how much he’d hit the nail on the head with both his restaurant choice and his date choice. He’d gone through a lot of options in his head; high brow weekend in New York, drug and booze fuck/game fest in a cabin by the lake, renting a boat for a moonlight sail, the options had been many. But in the end Ricky had decided that none of them felt… Winn. He did know, however, that Winn had an eye and stomach for barbecue, and after some research had discovered this place.

A band played at the far end of the restaurant, some four piece local folk ensemble singing about ghosts in the woods, and he knocked his glass against Winn’s before taking a long drink of what turned out to be a pretty damn decent stout. He moved the various bottles of barbecue sauce around the table as he listened to Winn, “The plan of attack? Eat. Eat. More eat.” He looked over his shoulder to see no fewer than three waiters carrying their trays of food toward them, inhaling deeply as they set them down in front of them.

“Hey. Ricky doesn’t phone it in when he’s gotta take a dude out. This place has won like a million awards. And I know you’re serious when it comes to barbecue. And yes. It is a big ol’ secret and you know that. You gotta just roll with the punches tonight.” He grabbed one of the french fries and started nibbling at it, examining his sauce selections as he inhaled the smell of the barbecue in front of him. “I think I’m gonna start with chicken though. Because why the fuck not. Everyone loves chicken.”

They chowed down for a few minutes before Winn came up for air. He was making a conscious effort not to eat like, well, a wolf, but Ricky seemed to have his own appetite to sate. Protein would certainly play well, later… if the later that Winn envisioned came to fruition. The food was so damn good. “Damn, dude.” He looked at the spread before them, not even a little full, but in awe of the sheer amount of barbecue on display. The different sauces danced across his tongue — his favorite, a sweet Carolina with just a hint of vinegar. But there was a hotter one, a little more tangy, that was also right up his alley. The meat was all cooked perfectly, moist enough that it’d be great on its own, and not so moist that it didn’t take the sauce on, and the sides? Shit, Winn had never even been a collard greens person, and he’d kill a man for the recipe on display here.

“Bro…” He didn’t have the words to express just how much this was up his alley. “You really know the way to a man’s heart, and stomach. That’s for fuckin’ sure.” This was going to be a good night.

#wickedswriting #para #Ricky #The Ten Thousand Dollar Question #wickedsmature #//#102 Days Later

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hirecharterbusrentals · 2 years ago

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doubledaffy · 7 years ago

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January, 2017. Daisy and I went to Japan to visit Kevin and Shoko. I wrote a lot about it and made this little video. XO.

1-5-17 Thursday

Kyushu island

Hippo Bakery

Beach walk. Bread. Blendy Stick. Laundry mat. Itoshima - wife and husband. I forgot my back pack on the beach it so happens. Moto guys. Daisy thought Japanese surfers were big water turkeys. Ancient pine forest. Karatsu burger. I hated. Aka egg and cheese. Kagamiyama mountain. Body move move. Karatsu castle. Ripped the cube into traffic towards Akasaka station to meet Tsuyoshi. (We got the laundry while I sat in the car). AirBnB guy. Boom box grocery store. Dars. Wasabi potato sticks. Crying toddler. Google translate sucks. Shoko made hot pot meal. Nummy. Kevin whipped his chocolate pops.

Fun fact. The man who invented Tenga, has the Guinness world record for longest JO. How fitting.

Gross airbnb hair on comforter and towel. Do not want to stay there. Wasting more money. :(

1-6-17 Friday

Big dry heave last night. Woke up at 1am thinking "oh boy, something's going on. Whoops!" Ran to the bathroom, felt the heat rise up my body. Was it the broth? The chicken? The Sake? I placed my hands upon the electronically heated seat of the Japanese washlet and began to dry heave. No barf. I felt like Barfing. But nope. My body wouldn't let me. I felt better though and went back to bed. Daisy told me in the AM that they made the HotPot with pork broth, thought of me, and then decided not to tell me. Maybe it was that. Who cares. I feel better today. Kev made Spanish French toast (torijas) for us. It was lovely. Daisy said the shower she took was the best she's ever taken. That's because there's a huge window looking out in the the sea. It's magic. Daisy and went to 7-11. Big presence here. Kev fully loves it. Apparently they make great stuff and the ATM is reliable. Located right next to the "Titty mags" as Kev explained. I took out Shoko's penny board and we stopped at HIPPO tiny surf bakery and got some snacks for the house. No salty bread. We showed up too late. I left the penny board outside and no one stole it! --- Shoko drove us to a special lunch and snack spot. Snack spot was very Japanese and cute and had weird dessert stuff. Lunch spot was closed at 3pm! Great shoe horn though. I Bought the best spoon ever. White metal. Feels like stone. Expensive ceramic gift shops. Hotto motto dance and curb eat. Sake factory great traditional architecture. Drove to muji and inkcube in the mall. Went nuts at Muji. And stuff. Daisy neck hurt. Back home. Cream soup. Organize pack. Test journals and pens out. Daisy in bed by 9. I stay up and eat cream soup and some dars. White chocolate. Do some photos and stuff. Kev teaches himself Japanese on laptop then plays StarDewValley.

1-7-17 Saturday

Woke up early. Beach walk. Big shell find. Hippo. Too early for SheoPan! 9:30 is the best time. Come back. Blendy stick with Scones and Cream Soup left over. Computer time clicky and and work / taxes shit. Shower ocean view. Skate to Hippo at 9:30. got the SheoPan. Groin pull fall on the way back. Saw Osky and the Corgy photo shoot. Kev takes us to train. I dropped 40 on the train card by mistake. Taking photos on the train is illegal, Kevin explains. Photo sound on iPhone mandatory. Unpack at AirBnb. Then Bounce to Lunch at crazy under ground mall. Green noodle soup. So many people. So many things. So many structures. So much lighting. So much movement. No white people. Babies dressing nicely. Cool gear. Women in mens wool long straight overcoats. Tan and black. Big buttons and ties. Underground mall culture. Walk tour through FuK with Kev. Side of building greenery stair case hike to views. Photo shoot women and man. Stop at Julette’s letters. Got a CLIP and stuff. Wooden baby toys nice. Japanese Love Pop and cool pencil, etc. Walk to DONUT spot. Lots of walking. Donut spot in crazy OTHER mall under ground. Madness. Hot down there. Amazing donuts. Weird that in a mall though, but maybe that’s great. Mall Mall Mall. Energy to go to MUJI. Big walk again. Lots of stores and big streets. Mega complex. Water light projector show. Muju is calming. Hot in there. Got more shit. Wanted everything and a new house to decorate. Book for Ben. Meet up with Shoko at Hippo and crazy recycling bear. Walk to restaurant called CHIKEN. Allow smoking, but place is cool and hip and nice. Light beer life. Moscow mule. Was off, from walking and hunger. Kev big adventurous eater. Raw Chicken - SASHIMI. Crazy. Got a little buzzed and let go. Crazy smokey chicken dish. Tasty food overall. Walk back in the Rain. LAWSON Dars and purple gummy candy and Crunky! Shoko peeled off before the AirBnB after party. Incense at the Airbnb made it smell better. Muji lights. 1/4 xanax or whatever to sleep. Pushed beds together with D and passed out.

1-8-17 Sunday

Woke up. Jon Bellion hate listen. Shower in tiny shower. Trying to meet with Kev at Eggs and Things. Big American style food. Just love the American food. Not so much THAT< I love knowing what I’m eating because I have a special little diet that doesn’t really include meat or fish or pork or anything, and here in Japan that’s hard. Kev showed up. After Eats and Things we popped on the train(s) to Dazaifu - a very old (16th century) Shrine (or could be a temple, hard to remember which is which) about 1hr on the localish trains. People on the trains sleep a lot. It’s nice. Also, no one is loud. Very quiet and respectful. Trains are on time and the stations are clean. One train we took was just the loveliest color scheme - light green/blue and red. V. calming. Tons of people in the terminals at times. Felt like Grand Central Terminal. If I ever felt like wanting to go to a Bigger Japanese city, nope - this amount of people is fine. Dazaifu is amazing. Tiny village full of a billion people swarming up to see the shrine, but it was oddly peaceful because no one is rude and it’s generally quiet. Tiny shops and people cooking meat sticks and shit on the sides on the way up. At the end, before the gate, there was a naturally formed single file line just to take a pic with the whacky animal statue. Formed by the people in a simple organized way. Not like the monster americans at Disney. Just a nice simple civilized line. Inside, we had to do a special hand and mouth wash routine to cleanse ourselves a the water zone. I touched my lips to the water bucket stick because it’s hard to know the customs in other countries. A million Japanese people cycling through there each day, and Jeff touches his lips to the community water bucket. We hiked up into the woods and saw an amusement park on the other side which seemed weird being so close to a shine or whatever. We got soft meatless sweet pucks and sat at a low table. Very relaxing stroll. Felt bad that Kev was in the Glum zone not knowing if his relationship is in the pits. Train back Komono woman sleeping among all the other sleeping Japanese people. Kev bounced, had to work and wanted to be home for the night. We wish we could all just stay at the house. Going back to the AirBnB and not having family dinner with the homie was bumming us out. I was excited to take the reins and figure out where to go in the new city. Apple Maps is great for walking directions on this trip. Great UI. Google Maps looks like garbage. Daisy found a place that has burgers and veggy options called Brooklyn Parlor. No shame in just going to a cool hip place that I know I can get something I like. The thing is, the Japanese food I have eaten is amazing. But when you’re without your Japanese speaking friends, it’s very hard to make sure you aren’t eating shell fish or meat. We saw some other cool small restaurants we’d thought looked nice on the walk. 7-11 stop after dinner to get snacks. The Titty Rags had censorship thingies on the genitals and they also had tape on the pages so you couldn’t open em. Old man barfing at the bus stop, but overall we’re getting a friendly vibe from the city. Plans to watch Finding Dori on the lappy, but might just crash. Trying to plan what to do tomorrow with the rental car with Kev. Hard to plan sometimes! We’re living out of a backpack now because of the AirBnB and would like to re-up / swap out our gear.

(First horn sound we’ve heard here. Wow. Just now as I was typing this entry, just goes to show you, why honk, when you can be patient and kind?)

1-9-17 Monday

Giants

Eggs and things iced coffee?

Train to Kevin's

Rental car madness - couldn’t find Nissan. Goosechase.

Senyoji temple - Magic. Soft. Quiet. Milltion Monks on hill. Old artifacts. Incense. Chanting on Mic.

Everyone backs their car in to the parking spot.

Ichiran Noodle Factory - ticket system. Rice and Egg and cold Mushrooms. Put the plate on the sound thingy and it makes a big sound all across the restaurant signifying that you want your next little order.

Tea Garden Madness - Light up trees across this huge empty yard with pop music blasting from a ton of speakers hidden all over the grounds. I did a BodyMoveMove, naturally.

1-10-17 Tuesday

Tried to go to Hippo today. It’s hard to go there, apparently. Closed on Tuesdays. Whoops! Came back with no pastries, so Kevy Cab hooked up the Pancakes and I took care of the Blendy Sticks. Grabbed the laundry and popped out to the long driving day through windy roads in the beautiful Japanese country side. First we stopped at the big Caldera overlook where a volcano made a blast hole a very long time ago. Then we popped down more windy roads to see the Aso Volcano. It was cloudy, but you could see a massive mountain with a big hole in it smoking underneath sets of ominous clouds. The museum center looked like something out of a Russian Post Apocalypse B movie. Drove to the wrong hot springs, I was getting car sick, so moved up front. The steering wheel is on the right side here, so sitting up front is a treat cuz you feel like you’re just controlling the car with you mind. Finally made it to the real hot springs. It’s a 24hr spot and it’s magical. You pick your favorite little hot spring house for around 1500 Yen (15 bucks). Then you pop in there, shower off, put your coins in the slot thingy that makes hot water blast out of a long tube into a beautiful wooden tub. We would have splurged for the rock tub for an extra dollar. Yup, a dollar for the upgrade. Daisy and I never felt so relaxed. I bought some sheepy slippers at the gift shop and am wearing them now. I also bought a sprite type drink that was about 1/4 size of a glass coke bottle, with a label designed to win design awards. Shoko is now getting car sick, so it’s me and her up front, with her driving. She drives very fast. On the highway she was passing mother fuckers with ease. I was nervous. Grabbed our laundry from the trusty laundry mat (drying only for us). I lay down on the bench while Daisy read Japanese Nylon. I was trying to still my body. Bopped over to the UDON noodle place and got some Tofu Noodle Udon and white rice. It was simply great. Ate at the counter and took some iPhone vids of stuff. At home raging on some 7-11 snacks we got at some point today. 7-11 here is what I want a convenience store to be. It has lots of shit I like and cheap. Daisy in bed now cuz I feel I owe it to myself to document these trips. They’re super important to me and special and I’m lucky to go on them.

1-11-17 Wednesday

Woke up at 8am and popped out to the ocean magic tree zone to dance in public for my BodyMoveMove & Exquisitemovement project. Dancing really gets the heart pumping. Daisy said she wanted to go for a run on the beach but where is she now? Face down in bed, that’s where. I can’t seem to sleep past 8 and I’m loving it. Slid over to Hippo for a pastry run. Scored that ShioPan which is very rare and special, as we all know. Came back and missed the “let’s go” and rushed to get ready. Everyone was making fun of me for being a space cadet on this trip, but I kinda like being loose and spacey when I’m not at the wheel. Most of my life is dictated by me and only me so it’s been really nice that Kev and Shoko are handling everything and being great tour guides. We zap over to Shoko’s parent’s house which is a traditional Japanese magical tiny compound. Garden’s and outbuildings and paths tucked and squeezed into the tiny suburban hillside. They have another house that they open as a cafe and art gallery and everything is as you’d expect a modern day / ancient Japanese house to be. They have a fucking COY POND in the middle of it all with lots of buddies swimming back and forth. Their toilet has a button that lifts and lowers the seat - no touch lifestyle. That sums up the house and how rad it is. We jammed over to a fast food Sushi Roll place that uses a conveyer belt system to deliver your food and you pay per plate. You order on the touch screen and it makes a lot of loud chimes and screams at you, which is the only downside. All this annoyance is overruled by the convenience and novelty. I ate no fish because fish grosses me out and I feel bad for them. They say fish is good for you, but not for me because it’s disgusting and smells like low tide. Your kid isn’t dressed up like he/she is headed to fashion week? Don’t bring them outside then. That’s the rule. Tolls here are very expensive, but the roads, even though I can’t read a god damn word, seem to be great and tight and efficient and clean. Next, we bopped over to the largest bronze Buddah that is laying down. It’s magnificent and peaceful. Snagged a Bodymovemove before going inside and praying at all the little pray stations. Then we got little balls with feathers on them to toss into the tiny buckets but none of us were successful. Guess what? This place is manicured to perfection and has a very hand made feel. Lots of paths into the forest and mini shrines and stuff. Even a tiny Torii Gate you can crawl through. Whoops, sun is setting, so we blast off to another Temple Shrine they’re calling Hay something. It has a lot of stairs and you can see the ocean and whatever. Big hay knot thingy you can pray to. We got gas and stopped at Aeon for food and snacks for gifts. The Nissan March really gets good gas mileage. I can’t find my lens cap, but who cares, I already got the good Bokeh shot on the highway. We’ve been using a “Shared Wallet” System, which is neat. You all put in the same amount of $ at the beginning and when you do group activities you all take out of that. At the end if there’s any left, you split it up. It works well or whatever. Back home Shoko made hot pot - no pork so I don’t need to dry heave over the wash-let again! Beers for everyone but me and desserts and funny convo on the futon and stuff. I took a bath listening to the ocean waves pulse. So nice. That pulsing really does wash away everything bad.

(so that’s it for what I have written. I know we stayed in Japan longer, maybe I wrote the rest of my thoughts in an actual journal? Hard to care to search for it right now. Maybe the video above will do the trick closing that gap. I’m updating this blog right now and it’s 5/11/19 10:07AM)

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amkautodetailing · 6 years ago

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limoservicedc · 7 years ago

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spyzguyz · 5 years ago

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Day 1-2

Melissa and I touched down in Costa Rica around 10 PM, took a shuttle to the rental car facility to get our car (a Nissan Versa), paid for rental liability insurance ($300, and required by law), and we were on our way…to downtown San Jose.

The drive from San Jose airport to San Jose is a bit like the drive from Newark airport to Newark. There’s some trucking facilities, a chemical plant—that kind of thing.

Our hotel was located in “central” San Jose, but you wouldn’t know it from looking around. For a Friday night, the area was bereft of pedestrians, and most businesses looked closed.

We dropped our bags at the hotel and walked the empty streets (Melissa said she wouldn’t have walked them alone) looking for something to eat. We came upon a casino with a boisterous crowd outside. We go inside, find a bar and an open kitchen, and order a “typical” plates—rice, beans, salad, plantains, and chicken.

It was delicious.

We chased our meals with silly cocktails, plus a papaya juice to share. The meal comes out to $30 with tip.

The next morning we wake up around 9 AM, have a complimentary breakfast in the hotel, and go for a jaunt around town. We stop off at Movistar—a Costa Rican phone store—and get new SIM cards that allow us to use our phones as we usually would in the states for the duration of our visit (9 days).

The cost is $10.

Walking around San Jose is a bit underwhelming. It feels like a city that randomly sprung up because they needed a central location for things. The concierge at our hotel explained that very few people actually live in San Jose—they just commute there for work and to party on the weekends (although we didn’t see too much of that).

There were a few pretty buildings and tiny parks that fit into a square block. The church in the center of town is also quite impressive, as is the Central Market, where fresh meat and fish abound. But by noon we were ready to hit the road to La Fortuna in the northwestern part of the country.

The drive to La Fortuna takes about 3.5 hours on one-lane roads. The first leg of the trip requires going up a mountain and down the other side. The elevation is so high that the road becomes shrouded in mist from the clouds. And because we’re so high up, rain falls suddenly and lasts anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours.

But because of this, the mountain was filled with lush vegetation and waterfalls cascading down onto the road (Costa Rican roads have little gulches on either side to capture all the runoff). The lack of visibility combined with the scenery makes for an engaging ride—especially since few roads in Costa Rica have shoulders to pull off onto or guardrails to prevent your vehicle from shooting off the edge of a cliff.

Basically you just need to keep your hands at 10 and 2, move your head as close to the windshield as possible, and hope the car in front of you knows what they’re doing.

Once we got off the mountain and began driving through farmlands, things felt more familiar. It personally reminded me of the Dominican Republic, which I visited last year, or some more isolated parts of Florida.

Basically your driving on one-land roads through farms, fields of grazing cattle, and small towns. Most of these towns consist of brightly painted houses lining the sides of the road, followed by a school, a soccer field, and a church (always the nicest looking building in town). A couple of random dirt roads also shoot off from the main road towards other houses.

Save for that, it was pretty trees, sodas (mom-and-pop restaurants with delicious local cuisine), and places where fresh produce and coffee was sold from little cars by the side of the road (Costa Rican coffee is delicious).

We reached La Fortuna around 3 PM. The town lies in the shadow of Mount Arenal—an intimidating structure. From the ground you cannot see the top for it’s hidden in the clouds. The volcano isn’t active, but it isn’t inactive either. It’s considered “dormant.” It last erupted in 2010, and shouldn’t be a liability to erupt anytime soon.

It’s most famous eruption occurred in 1968, which wound up killing 87 people (and led to the formation of the man-made Lake Arenal, which now helps supply a majority of the country’s electricity).

Our hotel was located about 20 minutes outside La Fortuna at the top of a long, windy, and treacherous road that is definitely not made for a Nissan Versa (as you’ll see, a lot of roads in Costa Rica aren’t made for a Nissan Versa).

The Casa Torre Eco Lodge, as our hotel was called, is perched on a hill looking out towards Mount Arenal and offering beautiful views of the valley below. The facility features tiny cabins with beds and electric outlets. There’s one communal bathroom (much to Melissa’s chagrin), an outdoor sink for the brushing of teeth, and an outdoor patio with a kitchen and tables for dining.

After getting settled, we headed back into town to book some activities at Jacamar Naturalist Tours, which we read online was one of the more reputable tour operators in the country.

We ended up booking a river boat safari and hiking expedition of Mount Arenal for the next day, and then a canyoning expedition for the day after that. For two people, the combined cost of all three was $440. We then booked a trip to a hot springs for the evening. This is a must for anyone visiting La Fortuna, as hot springs are what the region is most known for (pretty much every resort in the are has their own hot spring).

The hot springs we visited was called Baldi Hot Springs, which is the largest one in La Fortuna. Baldi is something of a cross between a hot spring and a waterpark. There are 31 different springs of varying temperatures, some of which are connected via a series of hidden waterways. There’s also a natural sauna, swim-up bars, ice baths, four different waterslides, and lots of children running around.

For $40 we stayed at the hot springs from 5 PM to 10 PM with dinner included. We did our best to explore every pool, but spent the majority of our stay getting drunk at a swim-up bar with a couple visiting from Alaska.

We left happy.

Day 3

Today we were up at 6:30 AM for the river boat cruise. They picked us up in a bus in the center of town, and it promptly started raining. We hopped off the bus at the Rio Penas Blancas, threw on some ponchos, and jump into an inflatable raft with our tour guide Miguel.

It rained for most of the two hour tour, which prevented a lot of animals from coming out. However, eagle-eyed Miguel was still able to show us some Howler Monkeys, sleeping bats, toucans, a few iguanas, and a dead piraña (but no sloths!).

After the tour he took us to a little soda where we were served fried plantains, coffee, some homemade cheese and banana cake, and tamarin juice.

Once we arrived back in La Fortuna, on Miguel’s recommendation, we head north out of the area to a place called Tobacon—home of the Chollin hot springs. Unlike the Baldi Hot Springs, which is a manmade facility, Chollin is a naturally occurring hot spring. In other words, heated water from Mount Arenal flows several miles down into this area to make the river water comfortable enough to sit in all day—which is exactly what hundreds of people do.

I’d compare it to a warm water version of Barton Springs in Austin, Texas.

Melissa and I wandered up and down the river a few times, then settled in and talked to this nice American family who had decided to move down to Costa Rica full-time five years ago (the three kids now speak fluent Spanish, but the parents still don’t know a word). They live in a town on the Pacific coast called Tamarindo, which they say is full of expats and fairly Americanized. The father provided us with some interesting tidbits about Costa Rica. For instance, he claimed that the Costa Rican government doesn’t truly care about the environment. But because eco-tourism is a big part of the Costa Rican economy, they pay lip service to it for travelers.

As we chatted, we passed around a large plastic bottle of Costa Rican jungle juice—a mixture of wine, rum, some sweet tasting syrup, and (if the father is to be believed) hallucinogens.

I didn’t hallucinate, but the juice was really good.

That afternoon we took a bus to Mount Arenal for the hike. The hike isn’t up the mountain per se, but rather a large lava flow created after the 1968 eruption that has now dried and hardened (Mount Arenal itself is too dangerous to hike, due to volcanic gases). The top of the lava flow offers stunning panoramic views of both Mount Arenal and Arenal Lake.

The most interesting aspect of the hike for me was all the vegetation that had grown out from between the brittle, black rock. Our tour guide explained this occurs because the rains erode the lava and allows soil to grow underneath.

When we got back to the base of the mountain we were greeted with watermelon and pineapple (the fruit in Costa Rica is on-point) then driven back to La Fortuna—where Melissa and I got dinner at an upscale restaurant called Don Rufino. Melissa ate a yummy cauliflower steak, and I enjoyed some of the best risotto of my life. We also split a hummus dish, and some cocktails.

The total cost with tip? $59.

Day 4

These are the kinds of mornings I love most on vacation: Sleep in, have a late breakfast (fresh eggs and fruit), then hang out and read. Even better if you have a spectacular view of a volcano from your hotel patio.

Around 11 AM we made our way into town for the day’s activity: Canyoning (a.k.a. repelling down waterfalls). We were picked up by a bus in the center of town, then taken to a resort out of town to pick up our fellow cayoneers. Lunch consisted of tender BBQ chicken with rice and beans. With our nervous bellies full, another van took us to an area south of La Fortuna, where we were transferred to yet another vehicle (a flatbed pickup truck), which drove us down a rocky road into the canyon.

Once there, we were outfitted with harnesses, helmets, and gloves (to grip the ropes), and led down into the canyon.

If you’ve never repelled before, the worst part is waiting. After a (very) brief safety presentation, we lined up in groups of two. Our guides strapped each of us to a rope (meaning we couldn’t escape) and walked us to the edge of a cliff. They snapped our harness to another rope, had us grip the rope with two hands (one hand at the top and the other hand down near our waist), and told us to jump.

Against every survivalist instinct in my body I obliged…and I fell approximately two feet. That’s because you need to loosen your grip on the rope to actually drop. This takes some getting used to, since you feel that if you loosen your grip you’ll tumble to your death. Experienced canyoneers can bound down the side of a rock face in two jumps. But for me, that first rappel took about 12 baby jumps.

The expedition led with the largest drop (160 meters), so that subsequent drops wouldn’t feel as intimidating. By our fourth and final rappel, I actually got down the side of the 95 meter drop in two leaps.

Overall it was well worth the $101 dollar price tag, even if our Costa Rican tour guide kept making fun of us for how scared we were (it was all in good fun). We actually met several nice American couples on the tour whom we bonded with over our shared fear of dying (there were a lot of “well, it I don’t make it…” jokes).

By the time the bus took us back to La Fortuna, we decided we had earned another hot springs. So we purchased a second voucher to Baldi, snuck in some of our own alcohol, and lazed around in the pools all evening.

Day 5

Melissa woke up at 6 AM to use the bathroom today and saw a sight we hadn’t seen since we arrived in La Fortuna—the top of Mount Arenal. In the early morning stillness, the clouds had briefly dissipated from the top of the volcano.

However, that view was soon to be beat when we left La Fortuna about three hours later and headed southwest towards Monteverde (translation: green mountain).

Monteverde is about 25 miles from La Fortuna in terms of distance. However, there are no direct routes there (you can take the ferry across Lake Arenal, but cars cannot go on these ferries). So the drive takes about three hours, and leads you on a long, winding, one-lane road around the lake.

It was one of the most beautiful drives I’ve ever been on. The roads are covered with lush, green, vegetation, and the views of Mount Arenal behind the lake are even better than what you see in La Fortuna (of course, by this time the top of the volcano was again poking into the clouds). Along the route, there are lots of sodas to pull over at, drink a juice, and look out across the landscape. There are also dozens of wind turbines dotting the landscape, helping produce clean energy for the region.

If I had to compare it to another landscape I’ve seen, I’d say the Finger Lakes in upstate New York, sans the volcano.

Once you get about 40 miles outside Monteverde, the lake views give way to green rolling hills and tiny rural villages. The road also turns from asphalt to dirt and gravel. This is fun in an SUV, but anxiety inducing in a little Nissan. We drove very slowly and were able to make it without issue.

Monteverde is high up—approximately 4,662 feet above sea level (for contrast, La Fortuna is 883 feet above sea level). For this reason, Monteverde is surrounded by cloud rain forests.

After we dropped our bags at our hotel (a charming place called the Jaguarandi Lodge), we headed into this unique landscape for an afternoon hike.

Needless to say, the landscape is breathtaking (and extremely vulnerable to climate change). In a cloud rain forest, everything grows on top of everything. There were trees growing out of trees, flowers sprouting from other flowers, and shrubs cannibalizing other shrubs. It’s like a giant nature orgy.

The most interesting flora we came upon is the fig tree. These are trees with hollow trunks. People make sport out of climbing into the trunk and scaling the tree from the inside!

The cloud forest is also home to the Quetzal, a very beautiful bird with bright green and red feathers that only lives in high elevations like the Monteverde Cloud Forest. We were lucky enough to see one with the help of a tour guide.

Our hotel room was a little cabin surrounded by trees (with it’s own bathroom!). We showered and sat out on our porch reading and listening to chirping birds.

We ate dinner at a place called Sabor Tico (kind of like a TGI Friday’s restaurant in Costa Rica, don’t really recommend). Then we found a much more interesting restaurant in downtown Monteverde called Tree House (the restaurant is three floors with a giant tree growing in the middle) where we played cards and drank Pina Coladas.

One thing about the town of Monteverde: It’s got a fairly modern feel. It’s small but has a cute little town center with lots of modern looking restaurants and a few bars. There’s a shopping mall, paved roads, sidewalks, and lots of traffic. It’s almost like a suburb you’d find in the US, but surrounded by jungles.

After leaving Tree House, we found a Discotheque next door called Rio Amigos that had a room downstairs with four pool tables. So Melissa and I shot some pool with the locals, then called it around 10 PM. We begged a closing restaurant to serve us some ice cream (most of Monteverde closes around 10 PM), then went to bed.

Day 6

Today we slept in and spent the morning on our porch reading. Then we headed to a place called Sky Trek adventures for zip lining in the cloud forest. This wasn’t quite as nerve wracking as canyoning because, unlike canyoning, you have no control over whether you live or die.

But you get over the anxiety of flying through the sky with no control whatsoever, it’s actually pretty awesome. The clouds make it so you can’t see three feet in front of you, but far down below you can see the canopy of the trees.

By the end of the zip lining course your face is soaked with mud (I don’t know why, maybe there’s mud in the clouds?). But before your guides let you leave, you have to bungie jump down from a suspended platform. This was a lot scarier than canyoning or zip lining, but somehow I did it—and I’ll never do it again.

In the afternoon we relaxed at the hotel, then headed to another cloud forest for a night hike. Of all the hikes we did, this was undoubtedly the coolest because you see so many more animals at night. Our tour guide pointed his flashlight at tarantulas in there tiny caves, a scorpion, multiple colorful sleeping birds, and deadly snakes napping on branches. But the highlight was a giant furry sloth scaling down a tree with its baby to poop (sloths only come down from their trees to poop every 10-15 days, so this was very lucky).

We finished the night at Tree House, and passed out early.

Day 7

This morning we woke up bright and early and headed to the beach. The drive down the mountains was as beautiful as the drive up the mountains. At some points, you can even see the Pacific Ocean. Once we made it down, we drove along the coast through little beach towns, then made a right turn west out to the peninsula of Quepos and the beach town of Manuel Antonio.

Our hotel was called the Selina Manuel Antonio, and it was lovely. It’s comprised of dozens of little villas spread across an acre of land, three different pools, three bars, a yoga studio, and a restaurant. At night, the main bar turns into a club, and folks from all over town come to dance.

After all the adventures, Melissa and I agreed that in Manuel Antonio we would relax on the beach as much as possible. This way, we could return to New York tanned and refreshed. So after checking in, we promptly drove to the ocean.

More so than any other place we’d been to in Costa Rica, Manuel Antonio is full of folks trying to separate you from your money. When you arrive at the beach, there are dozens of men telling you to park in certain locations along the road, then demanding you pay them for the public parking spot.

The parking isn’t private, so there’s no reason to pay these men. They’re just hoping uninformed tourists will do so anyway in order to get the men to stop heckling them (we also heard the men may vandalize your vehicle if you refuse to pay, although this didn’t happen to us). Once you reach the beach, there are other men trying to sell you beach chair rentals. The going rate is about $10 for the day—which is a bargain. However, we bartered anyway and got a few dollars knocked off.

Once you’re set up in your spot, other men come around trying to sell you surf lessons, parasailing (which looks really cool, but costs over $100), jet skiing, and various little trinkets and souvenirs. It’s pretty annoying, and different from anything we experienced in La Fortuna or Manuel Antonio.

However, it can’t take away from the beauty of the beach. The waters are warm and blue, the sun is always shining (as opposed to inland, where it was mostly cloudy), and the sand is soft.

We spent three hours on the beach, then spent the late afternoon lazing around the hotel pool. For dinner, we went to a place within walking distance of the hotel, and met a European couple recently engaged. Vad hailed from Russia, and his fiancee Flora was from Italy. They both lived in London now, and Vad had recently quit his job so that they could travel around South America for the next four months (they had already been to six countries in three weeks when we met them).

We chatted with them over dinner, then went back to the Selina and played cards with them at the bar. Around 11 PM we parted ways and went to bed.

Day 8

Today we were on the beach from 10 AM to sunset—and what a sunset it was. The sky turned a brilliant shade of crimson and purple, and the clouds appeared as if they were suspended just above sea level and extended far off onto the horizon. Easily a top 10 sunset of my life.

For dinner we went to a nearby restaurant called Jolly Roger, which was essentially an American sports bar in Costa Rica. We ate cauliflower wings and burgers, watched the Lakers game on the YTV, and listened to the live band. After dinner we crowded around a pool table in the corner of the bar and made friends with a bunch of fellow travelers.

There was Jay and Cole, cousins we were in Costa Rica with 23 other relatives on a family reunion of sorts. There was also a pilot from Canada, a mother and her 18-year-old daughter (who was getting hit on by much older Costa Rican men) visiting from Canada, and two girls our age getting away from the cold weather in Seattle.

We all made fast friends, and ended up closing down the bar after numerous games of pool and beer pong.

We then headed to the Selina and did a little dancing, finally retiring around 2 AM.

Day 9-10

On our last full day in Costa Rica, we stayed on the beach until 3 PM. By the time we left we were burnt to a crisp—three full days under the Costa Rican sun will do that to you.

We did the 3.5 hour drive from Manuel Antonio to Costa Rica, and checked into the same hotel we had stayed at the first night. To be perfectly honest, ending the trip in San Jose is a bit of a downer, as it’s not a particularly charming city.

But we were in for one last treat, as we found a well-reviewed Argentinian steakhouse near our hotel, and had a phenomenal meal (after a delicious tenderloin in goat cheese sauce, I resolved to go on a diet when I return to New York). Then we passed out early, woke up early, dropped off the rental (tip of the cap to Nissan—we put that car through a lot and it never wavered), and grabbed our flight home.

Some Thoughts/Travel Tips on Costa Rica

The People

Aside from the annoying vendors in Manuel Antonio, the Costa Rican people we encountered were by in large extremely friendly and accommodating. It does help to know a little Spanish, as not every Costa Rican is fluent in English, even in the major tourist areas (Melissa spent a lot of time practicing the Spanish she picked up in high school).

You’ll also obviously meet many travelers if you head to the major tourist areas. We personally met Americans, Italians, Russians, Canadians, Brits, Mexicans, and French people. All were very lovely—save for the French couple in the room next to us in Monteverde, who complained to reception that we were too loud (then pretended they didn’t speak English when I confronted them about it).

The Food

There’s no real delicacy in Costa Rica, but all the food we had tasted fresh—probably because most areas are surrounded by farms. I had delicious chicken, tender steak, and lots of rice and beans (plus that amazing Risotto in La Fortuna).

You’ll also find a lot of restaurants in Costa Rica that serve traditional fare—burgers, hotdogs, pasta, pizza etc. It’s all very good, but try and seek out the more unique places if you can (especially the roadside sodas).

In terms of drinks, there’s no shortage of sweet cocktails. The beer variety is a bit limited, though. I mostly drank Imperials, which I think is there version of Budweiser. The best drink is the coconut water they sell on the beach in Manuel Antonio (it’s a cold coconut sliced open with a machete full of sweet water).

The prices you pay for meals can’t be beat—an appetizer, two drinks, and two mains will only run you somewhere between $30 and $50.

Driving

This was personally one of my favorite parts of the trip. The countryside is beautiful, and getting to see it by car is a real treat. If I was to do it again, however, I’d get an SUV. There are quite a few dirt and gravel roads (especially in Monteverde), which was anxiety-inducing in our four-door sedan. More treacherous is the fact that pretty much every road has large gulches on either side to capture rainwater.

This means if you veer off the road even a little, you’ll find yourself wrecked in a ditch. Fortunately this didn’t happen to us, but I did wind up high-sided several times, and had to have some locals help push me out.

Money

It’s SUPER cheap. An 8-day trip with hotels and car rental ran us about $2500 combined. I booked my flight using points, but the typical cost is around $300 – $500.

You should carry around a little bit of cash for tolls and tipping (although many places have tip built into the bill). Also make sure to ask for your bill at restaurants, as many places won’t bring it to you unless you ask them to (because of this, Melissa and I actually walked out of two different restaurants without paying. Each time a waiter had to call to us to remind us that we didn’t yet pay).

Clothes

Inland it can get cold at night and there is intermittent rain, even once the rainy season (May – December) has passed. We got by mostly with shorts, t-shirts, and bathing suits. However, it’s a good call to bring a pair of pants and a raincoat, plus a pair of hiking boots or closed toed shoes if you plan on doing any excursions.

Sunglasses, flip flops, and a hat are a must.

How to Travel

I’m a planner, so I booked all our hotels beforehand. However, I got the impression that you could probably show up at most hotels and get a room that night, and I don’t think it would be much more expensive than booking ahead of time. Any excursions you want to do can be booked day of, usually for the same price that you would have paid if you booked online.

In other words, if you’re not a planner, that shouldn’t be an issue. You can wake up each morning without a plan, and still find a good time.

Final Thoughts

Overall it was a wonderful vacation—especially considering the amount of things that could have gone wrong (the rental car breaking down, having our stuff stolen, losing our passports or credit cards, getting into a big fight with Melissa, and all the other stuff I like to freak out about).

Costa Rica is both beautiful and affordable. It can work for those seeking adventure, to laze around on the beach, or both.

That combination, plus the wonderful company (hey Melissa!) makes this a trip I will remember very fondly.

Costa Rica Day 1-2 Melissa and I touched down in Costa Rica around 10 PM, took a shuttle to the rental car facility to get our car (a Nissan Versa), paid for rental liability insurance ($300, and required by law), and we were on our way…to downtown San Jose.

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gyrlversion · 6 years ago

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He looked f***ed. Clubber tells how UFC star Conor McGregor

Mugshot: MMA fighter Conor McGregor after his arrest on criminal mischief and strongarm robbery charges after taking Ahmed Abdirzak’s phone and smashing it

The shaken clubber whose phone was smashed and taken by Conor McGregor has branded the UFC superstar a ‘dangerous thug’ – telling DailyMail.com: ‘I was scared for my life.’

Ahmed Abdirzak, 22, was trying to video McGregor outside a Miami Beach nightspot when the snarling MMA legend flew into a rage and ‘punched’ his iPhone 8 out of his hand.

Restaurant manager Ahmed then looked on in disbelief as McGregor, 30, picked up the handset and hurled it to the floor before stamping on it repeatedly.

The Irishman then picked up the smashed phone and slipped it into his pocked before casually strolling back to SUV – laughing and adopting the signature McGregor swagger. The phone contained footage of the incident.

‘He walked away with that trademark McGregor strut that you see him enter the ring with in UFC,’ Ahmed told DailyMail.com in an exclusive interview.

‘I’m not going to lie, I was scared for my life – the guy is a lethal weapon.’

McGregor was arrested Monday evening and released hours later on $12,500 bond.

He faces charges of criminal mischief and strong-armed robbery. It is unclear if police have the phone and the footage it contains.

Crime scene: Ahmed Abdirzak tells DailyMail.com he was scared his life was at risk when Conor McGregor stormed up to him, grabbed him and seized his phone – at this spot here while he and his friend waited for their car. ‘I looked into his face and his eyes were bulging. He was so angry. I don’t know whether he was drunk or on drugs, but he looked f***ked.

Outcome: Conor McGregor, one of the highest-paid athletes in the world, is facing charges of misdemeanor criminal mischief and strong-armed robbery. He is seen leaving jail Monday night after being bonded out

Party venue: The Fountainbleu Hotel in Miami Beach is home to LIV where Conor McGregor was partying

Here to party: Conor McGregor was the least famous celebrity spotted by Ahmed Adbirzak and his friends in the LIV nightclub. The biggest name was rapper Blueface

Videos posted on Instagram show the MMA superstar partying with a number of people, including this woman in a captain’s hat

Inside the club: On one clip, Conor McGregor appeared to be arguing with another party-goer, with his arm raised. Hours later he was involved in the skirmish on the car park

Brit Ahmed, from Slough, Berkshire, and a group of friends flew into the U.S. last Friday for a Spring Break vacation in Miami Beach.

Top of their list of nightspots to visit was super club LIV in the swank Fontainebleau Hotel.

‘Everyone told me that LIV is the place to be. The place is really high-end, the music was insane,’ he went on.

‘We saw loads of celebrities. The big US rapper Blueface was performing live. We had a fantastic evening. There was no trouble inside.

‘There was a lot of A-list celebrities there. Conor was probably the lowest there, nobody was showing him any love.

‘The only reason I was looking at him was because I was from the United kingdom and he’s big there.’

Other footage from inside LIV showed McGregor appearing to argue with a clubber as he partied with a number of women.

In a clip posted on Instagram, the Irish MMA star appeared to be shouting at a bearded man. McGregor edges closer to him, before the camera pans away.

The alleged skirmish outside the club happened at 5am when Ahmed and his friends, including best friend Fuad Nur, 23, ran into the star in the hotel valet area as they waited for their rental car.

‘My friend spotted him on the way out and shouted to him ‘McGregor, McGregor, we’ve come all the way from London’,’ he went on.

‘He turned to him and gave him a salute. I said ‘Man dem McGregor’ [a London street expression of friendship and appreciation] and he repeated it word for word, mocking me.

‘It seemed good-natured at that point though, he seemed friendly. I wasn’t insulting him or antagonizing him at all.

‘I don’t drink, I’ve never touched alcohol in my life. I’ve never done drugs. I was completely sober.’

Ahmed said McGregor began shouting lyrics from the hit rap song Thotiana which Blueface had performed inside the club.

He insists he was about 15ft away when he took out his phone to record the spectacle – and that McGregor saw it and advanced towards him.

Defiance; Conor McGregor shared a picture of him in the back of a Miami Beach Police cruiser taken after his arrest – and showing him grinning

Message: The MMA fighter, 30, posted a picture of himself on social media with this caption

Home: McGregor keeps a house in Miami Beach and returned there after being bonded out

‘He reached out his left hand to greet me, to shake my hand. But then he held my arm so I couldn’t get away,’ said Ahmed.

‘His grip was insane. I could tell he was a professional athlete. I thought he’s going to hit me. I was shocked.

‘I looked into his face and his eyes were bulging. He was so angry. I don’t know whether he was drunk or on drugs, but he looked f***ked.

‘I just remained passive, I didn’t want to fight. Then with his right hand he punched the phone. It was so hard I felt the impact through my entire body.’

Ahmed said he watched the phone screen shatter. He tried to pick it up but says McGregor picked it up and threw it on the floor.

‘He stamped on it four times. He then picked it up and put it in his jeans,’ Ahmed added. ‘I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

‘He did his swagger dance and headed to his black SUV with his entourage surrounding him.

‘I was asking them, “Can I get my phone back?”

‘I tried to run after him and asked for it back but he just laughed.’

Amazingly, Ahmed, a dad-of-one who runs his family’s restaurant, Golis, Southall, west London, said the globetrotting sports star is yet to return the smashed iPhone.

‘He robbed me. It was daylight robbery. It wasn’t just a broken phone,’ he told DailyMail.com.

‘Nobody has taken the phone away from him and given it back to me.

‘As far as I know he’s still got it. It’s got all my personal pictures of my mother and son that I will never be able to get back now.

‘I’ve got friends in the UK who have done really minor crimes and they aren’t even allowed to come to America. They can’t get visas.

‘How is it that this man, a guy with history of arrests and violence can just come in and out whenever he likes – all because he’s a big name celebrity.

‘He’s a dangerous thug, very dangerous. He lives up to his name – notorious. He thinks the normal rules don’t apply to him.

‘I wouldn’t wish jail on anyone, but they should make an example out of him. His fans are already posting threats and jokes about me online.’

Victim: Ahmed Abdirzak tells DailyMail.com: ‘He’s a dangerous thug, very dangerous. He lives up to his name – notorious. He thinks the normal rules don’t apply to him.’

Witness: Ahmed Abdirzak was with best friend Fuad Nur, 23, when the confrontation with McGregor happened

Arrest report: How police dealt with Conor McGregor

Abdirzak said he should at least have his ability to come and go freely from the U.S. withdrawn.

‘I wouldn’t want to see anyone jailed or deported but I believe in justice,’ he added.

‘Coming to the US is a privilege. And if you do bad things you should lose that privilege

‘I don’t see why they should let him in again. He’s had enough chances to behave himself already.’

Monday’s incident came just three days after McGregor completed his probation for a violent altercation last April in Brooklyn when he attacked a bus carrying several UFC fighters by throwing a dolly through a window.

McGregor turned himself in to police the day after the melee and was charged with assault and criminal mischief.

He pleaded guilty in July to a single disorderly conduct charge in a Brooklyn courthouse in order to avoid prison time.

On Friday it was announced that he’d completed five days of community service at churches in Brooklyn and had taken an anger management class.

Had he violated probation, McGregor likely would have been faced jail time along with possible deportation to Ireland.

The MMA fighter, 30, posted a picture of himself on social media Tuesday with the caption: ‘Patience in this world is a virtue I continue to work on. I love my friends dearly. Thank you all’.

The rise of Conor McGregor

Conor McGregor makes his entrance before his fight with Floyd Mayweather Jr. in August 2017

Conor McGregor is known for his controversial, bragging persona in and out of the ring, which draws record numbers of viewers to his fights.

The 29-year-old Ultimate Fighting Champion was born in Dublin, Ireland, and began his mixed martial arts career at age 18 in an amateur match for the Irish Ring of Truth in his hometown.

He soon went professional and debuted in the MMA in 2009, collecting wins both as a lightweight and a featherweight.

McGregor is the first European MMA fighter to hold titles from two divisions – featherweight and lightweigh – simultaneously.

In 2013, after being swarmed by requests to sign McGregor to the UFC during a trip to Ireland, the organization’s president Dana White complied and the fighter became the second-ever Irishman to compete for the organization.

McGregor has said that he collected a $200 check from Ireland’s welfare state just one week before his UFC debut, when he was working as a plumber.

He drew the biggest pay-per-view audience for an MMA fight ever when he fought Nate Diaz at UFC 202 in 2016 and defeated him. For that fight he earned $1million, becoming the first UFC fighter to get a seven-figure pay day.

That year he became the first MMA fighter ever to be included on Forbes’ list of highest-paid athletes.

McGregor has been in a relationship with Dee Devlin since 2008 and they share a child, Conor McGregor Jr who was born in May of 2017.

In 2017 he announced he would go on hiatus from the UFC after winning the lightweight championship.

McGregor went on hiatus while undefeated as the lightweight champion but had already lost his featherweight championship.

In August of 2017, McGregor he was paid a reported $30million to fight undefeated boxing legend Floyd Mayweather Jr. in a much-anticipated, yet ultimately uncompetitive match that he lost on the 10th round.

McGregor’s relationship with the UFC hit the rocks in April 2018 when White ruled that he would be stripped of his Lightweight Championship belt because he hadn’t participated in a UFC event since 2016.

The Irishman responded with a profane tweet that said: ‘You’ll strip me of nothing c***s.’

Then two days before the UFC 223 event at Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York, McGregor arrived with an entourage at the end of a media event and triggered a melee in which he threw a dolly at a bus carrying other fighters.

Several fighters were injured by broken glass and two had to miss upcoming fights.

White called the incident the ‘most despicable thing in UFC history’.

McGregor turned himself in to police and was charged with three counts of assault and one count of criminal mischief.

He pleaded guilty in July to a single disorderly conduct charge in a Brooklyn courthouse in order to avoid prison time.

McGregor returned to the Octagon in August 2018 to challenge Khabib Nurmagomedov for the Lightweight Championship but was defeated in the fourth round in Las Vegas.

He found himself in trouble with the law again in March 2019 after an altercation with a fan outside a nightclub in Miami Beach.

McGregor was arrested and charged with misdemeanor criminal mischief and strong-armed robbery after he allegedly smashed a fan’s phone on March 11.

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