Ecuador, A grieving man named Louise and bed bugs....

Whilst Julie and I don't usually go with strangers (unless shitfaced and therefore invincible) we recently "went" with a man called Louise who met us at the bus stop off our thirty hour journey from Peru to Ecuador (Cuenca) and enticed us to his hostel with the alluring promise of "hot water and a private bathroom for only $7". In reality, Louise, a short sallow skinned man in his mid fifties with unusually large breasts (an evolutionary bewildering gift in males, perhaps in which more research cries to be done) should have said "no water, shared bathroom" and added "with occasional groping and inappropriate kisses on the neck."

I take pride in the fact that I am usually able to spot a perv from a good distance off, it's a talent I harbor, I am one myself after all. But, with Louise it was different, he had an angle which threw me off his scent, "a perv with a curve." He had a mild manner and was so damned good at camouflaging his sleaziness with friendliness, that even when his hand slid from my back to my backside during a long and lingering hug from him (of which I had many), I was confused by his actions and contrasting demeanor, even rubbed his back in return and said "Gracias". He was also all hands and kisses with Julie, to which she just smiled and hugged back. "I can´t figure out whether Louise is a nice old man, or a dirty old man" I later told Julie. "Ah, he's a nice old man", she replied whilst I wondered if like the rest of my friends she was a terrible judge of character.

Later, one of the other guests in the hostel told me that she felt sorry for Louise (though she called him Lois, which I prefer). "He has a sad look about him", she said, mistaking me for someone that cared "and he works all the time with no help", she added. I released a false "ohh", which was meant to sound sympathetic but came out more like the noise a hungry zombie might make whilst approaching a victim. This guest noticed the many photographs littered around the hostel of Lois on holidays with a woman whom appeared to be his wife, but was never seen in real life leading to her conclusion that she was dead and he was running a one man show. "Ohh" I said once again, however this time sounding more like a sympathetic human than a flesh eating monster. Pictures were proudly displayed of this elegant looking lady, sitting beside Lois on a beach, the woman wearing a bathing suit, whilst Lois bravely went topless. Therefore, Lois suddenly became in my eyes, a broken creature, a mourning widower craving human comfort rather than the randy old bear I had previously suspected he was.

In the days that followed, Lois went on to sexually assault both Julie and I whenever he saw us and we did nothing about it, which still somewhat baffles us. Him presenting me with my morning eggs at the table would be followed by his release of a low, deep noise resembling a growl as he placed his face side by side against mine and held it there for some moments whilst he rubbed my back. Now, I can´t say that I enjoyed this exhibit and I admit that having a growling middle aged man pressed against my head made eating my eggs somewhat difficult, I did however take some satisfaction in that I was providing a grieving man with the comforting warmth of another human being. "He´s not perving" I thought "just mourning!" I mentally congratulated myself on facilitating his recovery process. "Does my kindness know no boundaries?" I wondered as I imagined myself executing a small bow to a round of delighted applause. You may be reading this thinking "Is she crazy, managing to find satisfaction from one who has suffered so? Or is she just a despicable human being?" Can´t I be both?

On our last morning in the hostel, Lois clearly not able to believe his luck at having two females there who were not reporting him to the local police, went in for the jack pot and actually kissed Julie on the neck, leaving residue. This had been made unacceptable due to the surprise appearance of his wife the night before who was clearly not dead at all but chose to keep a wide birth away from her husband with the busy hands. "I only let him hug me because I thought his wife was dead", I told Julie, annoyed and feeling cheated by the big boobied man.

Louise (Lowis) and me, embracing.

Before we checked out Lois insisted on taking our photos, "for the computer" and got a few more gropes out of us. "Dirty old man!" I confirmed to Julie as I pointed at him waving us goodbye when we left and watched him blow us a kiss.

Not only did Lois give us some special memories but we also picked up bed bugs from his manky hostel, which we brought to the Ecuadorian coast with us when we left Cuenca. Bed bugs (like Lois) are extremely hard to get rid of. We had to get all our clothes washed in the hottest of water, meaning my already tight fitting items from my traveling weight gain are even tighter now. So, off we headed to the coast, itching, infested and feeling a little violated but of course laughing all the way like eegits, as per usual!