The stalking donk and the coffee plonk. Aruba #6

Big donk is watching you!
Big donk is watching you!

Kicking off my Saturday with a nice strong black coffee in my favorite café somewhere in San Nicolas. No matter how many times I come here I always seem to forget exactly where it is. I’m watching football on one TV while another in the corner plays a DVD of shit Mexican tunes with raunchy videos. Coffee, football and Latin babe bum shaking with a plate of enchiladas on the way served by a hot Aruban, possibly Columbian waitress. This is how to start a day off when working in the Caribbean.

 

Enter the lanky, mutant piece of shite about to tarnish my perfect start to the day and remind me that even here on ‘one happy island’ –Aruba’s motto- people can still piss me off.

 

After a spectacular fail at getting fired into the waitress, this early morning drunken fart turns to me. “Hey. HEY YOU! Homie, how the fuck are you doin? Let me get you a fucking beer”.

 

Homie? Do I look like Jenny from the fuckin Bronx? Keep your money homo you look like you need it!

 

I had to laugh a little when the waitress then asked him if he still wanted to buy me a beer. I didn’t catch his mutterings but it equaled to a resounding no.

 

So maybe I could have been a little more polite to someone who had just offered to buy me a beer, but I really didn’t like his manner and couldn’t be arsed having to listen to his shite while trying to enjoy my much needed coffee. Nice to be nice and all that but sometimes you just have to say “fuck off”.

 

Thankfully there weren’t many moments like this and so, forgetting the time I threatened to chop someone up and feed them to the donkeys, my angry eyes could stay firmly in my pocket until back in the UK –one angry island-.

 

As much as I enjoyed the occasional day off I would actually really miss the donkeys when getting a whole weekend to myself. To be fair, towards the end of my six months I did get more free time and I was always happy to be at the sanctuary anyway as donkeys are by far the coolest things on My green Earth (or yellow sand as this is a desert island).

 

A little donkey by the name of Easy Catch would keep me amused while sitting at home. Clop, clop, clop, around he goes circling my apartment all day.

 

The Aruban donkeys are not native to Aruba and were brought here as working animals five hundred years ago by the Spanish. Once cars were introduced the donkey was not needed anymore and so they were released and left to go wild. There are now two hundred plus on the island and with over one hundred thousand people here, many of which driving cars, accidents between the two will inevitably happen.

 

We catch donkeys that play chicken with cars and also donks that are destroying people’s gardens. Most are healthy but now and then we get one that’s been in an accident or is a little bit fucked in one way or another. Catch is one of the latter.

 

He was found almost blind and with terrible wounds on the back of his legs. Being quite easy to catch led to the name Easy Catch and now he spends all day and night completing circuits in my garden.

 

As the sun dies, my light’s turned on and I’m making some pasta. A little can of chili, tuna and a pot of beans n’ pork on the boil, but something’s different, something not right. Where’s the clomp, clomp, clomp? I turn to face the window and come face to face with my STALKING DONKEY!

 

A nosey long face squashed against my window and watching me intently. I’d invite you in to watch some television, but you’d just shit on my floor Mr Catch and that’s just for me! But what an alarm clock that would be when you’re hairy pillow wakes you up with a bite to the face!

 

EEEEHHHHAAAWWW!

 

*Usage of the word homo was just a play on the word homie and not intended to cause offence to anyone’s sexual preference.

Beware of the guard donk
Beware of the guard donk
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10 thoughts on “The stalking donk and the coffee plonk. Aruba #6

  1. Face it, Andy, you have a pet donk. He has chosen you!
    We have a pet rooster, Blackie. He’s a runt. He waits outside the breezeway door, peeking through the glass. If we eat outside, he’s there. He follows us when we walk outside and crows until we pick him up and carry him. He runs to greet us as our car or truck pulls into the driveway. He runs to the driver’s side door (don’t know how he figured that one out) and jumps up until the driver picks him up. Like your donk, we didn’t pick Blackie, he picked us.

    1. Blackie sounds like one cool and smart rooster. Is he black by any chance? One of our alpha donks is called blackie..and he is black. Had broken legs when he was a baby but he’s the Don now. Walks a bit funky sometimes but he’s all good.

  2. Hahaha, awesome tale, and thanks for liking/following me! We have an old donkey on our farm that manages to get into the house and just has a wonder round. Never does anything naughty, he’s like the Gandalf/Dumbledore of the horse-world, a very wordly animal 😉 Can’t wait to read the rest of your blog! 🙂

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