OhMG aye dios mio, I am watching the craziest incident right now. 

There is an old gringo woman from a northern state, judging by her accent, complaining about the air conditioner not working in the womens’ dorm even though it’s not hot enough for air conditioning. So she wants a private room.  In US internet culture, a white women who always asks to the see the manager is nicknamed “Karen” and this is the embodiment of one in the wild. 

As a “well behaved” traveler, I was sickened watching her talk down to the poor but kind adult cleaning lady who had her head down like a child being scolded. Costa Ricans tend to avoid face losing confrontations, but this is what the US was founded on. Costa Rica has no military. They are a peaceful people. Pura vida!

Karen knows some Spanish, but her accent is so terrible I hate hearing her speak.  She was trying to get breakfast even though the kitchen just now closed at 10am.  She defiantly tried to walk into the kitchen with her shitty attitude but didn’t see the sliding glass door was closed and slammed into it face first, bowing the glass door inward, falling down on the upgoing stairs and started crying like a child who needs a nap. She was complaining about her hip hurting and her nose is now bleeding. 

When they heard the noise of Karen’s cries, mi amigo the front desk clerk named Luis and the hotel owner, also Luis, immediately ran up from reception on the first floor to the cafe on the third and started helping her off the ground and moving her things from the dorm to a private room.  She started saying she needed to pay for the private room but el jefe Luis said to wait on that. They just wanted to help her after he accident.  I’ve never seen the Luises move so fast.  Such good customer service. This is why Hotel Maragato is my home in San Jose for six weeks of two eye surgeries, dental work, healing and follow up doctor’s appointments afterwards.

ENTONCES a woman police officer showed up. I later asked front desk Luis why she was here.  He said sometimes the police come here to use the restroom.  But the timing of that added to the general chaos of the now three ring circus Karen situation.

I’m watching this all unfold from a chair in the common area where I’ve written many Cartas a Diabla.  It’s the exact location where we talked via Google Translate for two hours our first time meeting. She’s Panamanian/Mexican and as spicy as a habanero. I’ll talk more about her later in the zoo/first date post and more private things on the Patreon!

The whole situation is hilarious and ridiculous in a way that only asshole gringo tourists can manage. People like her make me embarrassed of the country I was born in.

I was having a hard time not bursting out laughing while Karen was performing this Comedy of Errors.  Once she was gone, Luis and I shared a laugh and a few words to defuse the tension.  El jefe Luis jokingly said part of the old lady’s brain is still on the floor.  I want to nominate the old lady for the Oscar award for best comedy crying. It was such a drama queen moment. She is so fake!!!

I really hope her hip is ok. That can be a serious injury and I don’t wish her long term health problems.  But this was instant karma in action.  I observed and documented the whole thing for the past thirty minutes just to get it down as it happens. I still laugh uncontrollably when I think about how her head made that glass door bow inward. My stomach is hurting from laughing at this old foolish clown of New Yorker trash.  

I just saw Karen’s face print is still on the glass and the cute younger cleaning lady had to use some Windex to take it off.  This keeps getting funnier.  With six months of retrospect, I really missed out on an opportunity to take photos of her faceprint in the glass. It was so fucking funny. This situation afforded me an opportunity to share a laugh with the girl who made me many breakfasts, cleaned my bathroom, sheets and towels and was a general pleasure to be around. I only saw her face a few times because Costa Ricans are very good about wearing covid masks. I hardly see any in Colombia, but there are a few.

The good side of me feels bad for enjoying this so much, but what can I do but laugh?  Certainly not move Karen’s bags or help her off the floor. What a Cee U Next Tuesday.