She came to me in the night. I knew it was her—the smell of Zevs Slim Ultra Lights woke me up, and stirred me from my makeshift banana hammock. I opened my eyes, and saw her naked silhouette against the moonlit river.

“Viroqua,” I murmured. “I knew you would come.”

She turned to me and loosed a quiet but erotically-charged belch. “¿Tiene alguna cerveza?” she asked.

My Spanish is fuzzy, but I knew what she was saying. “Yes,” I said. “I’m losing my cabeza too. I’ve never felt like this before.”

She came and sat beside me. “Bill Murray sólo me dio un beso en el lugar donde puedo orinar.”

“No,” I reassured her. “Bill Murray won’t interrupt us. He’s passed out drunk.”

“Tengo un novio,” she said, “pero estuvimos de acuerdo que está bien tener relaciones sexuales con Bill Murray y Joan Cusack.”

“Is he dating her?” I asked. “I didn’t know that. But enough talk about Bill Murray. I’m naked, you’re naked…when my banana hammock is rocking, they won’t come knocking.”

“El blog de me perro recibe más tráfico que el tuyo,” she said, reaching provocatively into my golf bag for my three-wood.

“Well,” I said, “perro-style might be challenging in the hammock, but we can certainly blog about our humorous attempts to try it!”

That gorgeous vixen put her hand to my cheek, raised the three-wood…and everything went black.

“Jay Gabler’s Guatemala” is The Tangential’s weekly travel series. Previous installments:
• Uno: A journey of the soul
• Dos: Journey of the soul takes a wrong turn
• Tres: A blogger gone native
• Cuatro: A dangerous mission
• Cinco: A kiss from Bill Murray