Technically, I stole the towel. It got placed in my bag and, when I noticed, my vindictive will toward Juan and his Casa decided to keep it.

Technically, he robbed me for a dollar. Hence the vindictive will.

There isn’t much more to the story. I paid for two nights’ accommodation – admittedly not my best move, but I got lazy and that’s when one gets taken advantage of. LP – second bad move, I know by now the guide is nearly worthless – said there weren’t any other budget hotels and that La Casa de Juan was clean if decrepit.

LP clearly hasn’t been to Valle de Anton in about five years. There are at least five budget options and CDJ is DISGUSTING – bugs, gunk, kitchen, bathroom, beds … I’m pretty sure no one in that house ever even engaged in the Central American past time of sweeping.

Anyway, so I had paid for two nights and then searched out the heaven-sent Hostal Orquídeas based on James’s recommendation. When I went back to CDJ to collect my belongings (after a conference call and decompression in the orchid garden) Juan said that he needed to keep one dollar for tax. Tax on a night I was not staying.

Well, now I’ve got your towel, Juan. And I’m giving my older one (from El Salvador) to Hostal Orquídeas. Chíngate. Or, as Scott would say, “fuck you, hombre.”