Entitled Bigot Off The Starboard Burrito!

We bought the boat of our dreams during this whole crazy experience the world has been going through. With restrictions and cases finally dropping to a level that isn’t absolutely bonkers, we decided to go on our first long-distance journey, leaving from the east coast of America and heading for the west coast. We’re planning to be gone for about ninety days.

This morning we awake in gorgeous San Marino, Mexico. I quickly hit the galley and make some Italian-inspired breakfast burritos using this lovely habanero marinara sauce my partner found on our journeys, some chicken, pepperoni, eggs, and onions. Using three burrito-sized tortillas, I am able to fashion this monster together as I grab a fresh beer to start the day as we’re docked here until tomorrow.

I tell you about my delicious breakfast burrito because it is a main character in our story today. I stumble up to the main deck with my goodies and our pups in tow; they’ve got a good patch of turf to do their business up here. Standing there in my crocs, obnoxiously bright swim trunks, and one of those oversized straw hats with the chin strap, I hear the song of my homeland: some entitled woman going ballistic on some dock workers.

This sends my childish brain right into wallflower mode, as nothing is better with a sloppy burrito than people-watching.

The woman is screaming at the two men on the dock about a boat, not mine but one clearly privately owned and not some kind of rental. The woman is demanding that they provide the ship to her for the day and is swinging around a fistful of bills. Our Mexican friends are doing their best to communicate to her that they have nothing to do with the boat — I assume, as my Spanish isn’t the best. The woman is screaming and stomping as she gestures toward the boat and workers are awkwardly shrugging and attempting to avoid her.

Then, it happens. I’ve been spotted. I attempt to slink back under the deck, but alas, as I turn around to seal the cabin, I see the woman making a beeline for me with what can only be described as an “I’m going to get the manager to do what I say” expression. Having two very large and protective dogs, I bite the bullet and step back onto the deck.

Woman: “Sir! Why don’t your workers speak English? How are they supposed to do their jobs if they don’t speak English?”

After a stunned pause, I respond.

Me: “Well, ma’am, we’re in Mexico; the primary language here is Spanish. Also, they’re not my workers as I don’t work here. Please get off of my boat.”

Going from zero to a hundred, the woman launches into a tirade about how it’s BS and they need to speak English and I need to get that random person’s boat ready for her before her husband arrives with their kids. Add in plenty more racism.

Finally cutting her off, I yell:

Me: “Hey, lady! I do not work here, or even in this country. Kindly get the f*** off my boa—”

As I was saying the word “boat,” the woman shoved me — no words, just a full-on shove. I did end up going overboard, but the sight I saw on the dock when I came back to dry land was glorious.

You see, in my journey over the starboard bow of my boat, I did manage to throw the about 70% of burrito I still had in my hand — which was stuffed full of Habanero sauce — at the woman, hitting her in the neck. Apparently, it exploded everywhere, and the woman was covered from her cheeks to her midsection, even seeping through the bikini top she was wearing. Surprisingly, after she was done screaming about the heat, she simply sat down and started crying.

I headed back below deck for a fresh burrito and another beer. The dock workers managed to high-tailed it while the woman was occupied with me, so all ended well.