Frugality Comes with a Price

Caitlin and I are a late-20s DINK couple that love to take nice vacations to exotic locales. We've been married for four years, and decided early in our relationship, before starting a family, we were going to spend time together traveling the world. So far, our finances have allowed for one large and one small vacation each year, with destinations that have included Paris, Buenos Aires, and Istanbul.

Using all our discretionary money for trips has not exactly been conducive to planning for the future, and even though we still wanted to wait a couple more years before having kids, we realized it was time to start saving. However, since we weren't ready to just stay home, the answer seemed to be to scale back. We had always leaned towards splurging, rationalizing that we might only have one chance to visit a place, but now that was going to need to change.

Caitlin and I met at work. At the time, I was an up and coming assistant product manager and she was fresh out of college working in the marketing department. We were introduced at a company happy hour and things immediately clicked. In fact, those working with us at the time like to tell stories about how they knew we were destined for each other from that very first meeting.

Fortunately for me, my wife is both attractive and intelligent, and she quickly wrapped me around her finger. She is a slender 5'7" tall with soft shoulder-length light-brown hair, matching brown eyes and full kissable lips. She has B-cup breasts tipped with tiny nipples that sit high on her chest and are well-proportioned for her frame. However, her best feature is her legs which are long, shapely and end in an extremely well-toned butt. I'm 5'11" with a medium build and a slightly receding hair line, not in bad shape, but I don't work out with near the fervor of Caitlin, so I'm a bit softer.

Having decided to make less extravagant destination plans, we threw ourselves into researching places that might fit our interests, and finally selected a Pacific beach town in Costa Rica. Since we both spoke some Spanish, it was appealing, and when the offseason rates were factored in it just seemed to make sense. To top it off, Caitlin was interested in learning how to surf, and there were many other activities nearby as well. It wasn't going to be first class this time, but we looked forward to it as something of an adventure.

We landed in San Jose and took a bus directly from the airport to the beach town. The bus was reasonably comfortable and the ride wasn't too bad except for a couple of tight turns around chasms in the mountains that caught our attention. Caitlin was dressed conservatively in hiking shorts and a short-sleeved button shirt, but still attracted male attention from the mix of locals and tourists.

We were dropped off near the center of town, and after asking directions to our hotel, we made what turned out to be a short 300-yard walk to its location, arriving right before sundown. It was one block off the beach, with no real view, but the room was clean with a king-sized bed, a bathroom with both a shower and tub, and there was a nice sitting area with a couch and a couple of chairs. The hotel also had a small pool with an outside bar and satellite TV, so all things considered, it exceeded our expectations.

"Can I buy you a drink Mrs. Behrens?" I asked after we dropped our bags.

"Yes, you may. I need one! It's been a long day," she replied eagerly while flashing me her lovely smile.

We walked towards the beach and found a small bar with just a smattering of people, and after ordering our drinks, we relaxed while watching and hearing the sea roll in.

"Pretty big waves," I said, raising an eyebrow towards Caitlin.

"You need big waves to learn to surf properly," she replied, seemingly undaunted.

We signaled to our waiter for another round, and when he arrived, we started a conversation.

"Hector, do you know anyone that teaches surfing lessons," I asked the pleasant older man.

"Oh, yes. There are several instructors," he replied.

"How do you find them?" I followed.

"They work off the beach. Right along in there," he said, using his hand to gesture at the expanse in front of us.

"Anyone you would recommend?" Caitlin chimed in.

"The best is Juan Pablo. He is also the surfing champion," Hector informed us.

"And where do we find him?" she asked.

"Just a bit down there. You can ask anyone," he said while pointing to his left.

"Well, looks like tomorrow is planned," I said with a laugh.

"For part of the day. I'm sure it's tiring. We can relax and explore for the rest," she responded.

Caitlin tends to overdo things and it looked like this vacation would be no different. Since both of us were tired from the travel, we finished our drinks, went back to the hotel, and within minutes we were both asleep.

We were up early the next morning and after a light breakfast we wandered towards the beach. Unfortunately, it was still mostly empty, so we explored the town, noting several places for further investigation, and an hour later we returned to the water where things were beginning to liven.

"Hi, we're looking for Juan Pablo, the surfing instructor," I asked a young man in broken Spanish.

"There," he said, pointing towards a small hut under a few trees about fifty yards down the beach.

"Juan Pablo?" I asked a young man that looked to be in his early twenties, after walking to the hut.

"Yes, I am Juan Pablo," he replied in good English.

"My wife is interested in surfing lessons. We are told you are the best instructor," I said.

"Well, I think I am good, but perhaps not the best," he responded with a charming smile.

"How do you teach surfing?" Caitlin broke in, wanting to get to specifics.

"Ahhhh, well I teach about the board first and how the waves work and then we go to the water," he explained, turning and openly looking her up and down.

"How much are the lessons?" she asked, unfazed.

"Each lesson is $40 and lasts between an hour to an hour and a half," he told her, now completely ignoring me.

"Okay, when can we start?" she spoke, eagerly.

"We can now. I have no bookings this morning," he replied.

I paid him the $40 and told Caitlin I was going to wait on some chairs just down the beach, but just before leaving, I spotted a stack of colorful business cards on a ledge that ran along the front of the hut. Curious, I picked one up, then took Caitlin's bag and sat down just in time to see her peel off her shorts and t-shirt while Juan Pablo watched. She had purposefully worn a one-piece suit, anticipating that falling in the surf might be rough on a bikini, and had her hair pulled into a cute ponytail. As, I watched the young man stepped into the hut and returned quickly with something that he handed to my wife. She turned it a few times in her hands and then pulled it over her head. When it was in place, I could see that it was a dark, snuggly fitting long-sleeved shirt.

Juan Pablo took a long board and pulled it close to the water, and for the next thirty minutes I observed as he instructed Caitlin on how to lie, kneel and stand. She seemed to be enjoying herself and so did Juan Pablo, who had the energy of youth and a perpetual smile. Surfing in the cool water must have kept his body lean as there didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on his almost 6 ft. tall body. He had long dark hair that reached his shoulders and wore a swim suit that went almost to his knees. I noticed his body was smooth except for a trail of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared into his suit.

Remembering the card, I picked it up from the table and saw that it was advertising for a photographer in town. Since the name shown was Ezzi, I surmised the photographer was female, and thinking it could be fun to get a few shots of my wife surfing, I stuffed the card in my shorts with the intent to search out the shop later.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Caitlin asked, bringing me back to consciousness as I realized I must have dozed off in the pleasant breeze.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you done?" I asked.

"No, I'm not tired yet, so I'm going to do another lesson. I need some suntan lotion though," she replied, reaching into her bag.

Caitlin sprayed the lotion on her uncovered areas and started to leave when I asked, "What's that shirt for?"

"Oh, it's a special surfing shirt so I don't get chaffed," she explained, and with that she bounced back to Juan Pablo, who waited for her with a board under his arm.

They went out to a location where there were some small breakers, and with Juan Pablo holding the board, Caitlin climbed on. He would try to get her started as a wave passed, and the first half dozen times she fell, but the next three attempts she rode the wave long enough to stand for a few seconds. This continued with her making progress until, for no apparent reason, she began to revert. Finally, she waved him off, and they walked together back to the beach.

"I'm exhausted. It's much harder than it looks!" she exclaimed.

"I don't know, it looked pretty hard," I said, proud of her for what she had accomplished.

"I need another $40," she informed me, and I reached into my wallet and gave her the cash.

Caitlin walked back and gave her instructor the money, then stayed and talked with him for twenty more minutes.

"I have another lesson tomorrow," she explained, when she finally returned.

"Good, you were getting there," I said encouragingly.

"You think so?" she asked.

"Yes, I do. Good progress, although I think you were getting tired at the end," I told her.

Caitlin pulled a lounge chair next to me and we relaxed for another hour before collecting our things and departing in search of a place for lunch. After a good ceviche, we went back to the hotel for a nap. Feeling revived after some sleep, she started pestering me to try out ziplining and when we called the front desk and learned there was a nice place just a fifteen-minute drive away, it wasn't long before we were out the door. It turned out to be good fun, and in the late afternoon it was not crowded. When we were finished, we instructed the taxi to drop us at the beach where we walked over a half-mile in the surf then returned for a drink at a beachside bar near our hotel to watch the sunset.

"Damn, full day," I stated, after ordering.

"Yes," Caitlin answered, although I could see she was looking at something down the beach and wasn't really paying attention.

"Maybe we should pace things a bit," I suggested, then added, "After all, we have six days."

"We're fine. You'll be okay old man," she replied, giving me a sharp dig.

Her words ended with a mischievous smile which forced the same from me, and for the next twenty minutes we sipped the cocktails, aimlessly chatted and watched the sun disappear. The first drink was followed by another which energized me.

"We need to find a partying place. You know, something livelier," I said, as we polished off our cocktails.

"Well, first it's only 7:30 PM on a Tuesday and second I'm not sure this is a party town," Caitlin replied with a laugh.

"Well, we can try," I told her, with a grin.

"No arguing with that logic, but I need to shower," she replied.

An hour later we were ready to hit the town. Me in knee length shorts and a polo shirt, and her in khaki shorts that ended mid-thigh with a sleeveless, blue pull over top.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Not really. Maybe later," she answered, as we strolled the streets.

The temperature, even after sundown, was still in the high 70s, so it wasn't long before we were looking for a cool place to land. Most of the bars looked depressing, with only a few people inside. However, after turning a corner, we came across a place called Diego's that had a bar with stools just off the street, and inside was a dance floor with western techno music blaring.

"Let's stop and get a drink," I suggested, since the place showed some energy.

We took a spot along the street, but the A/C from inside coupled with fans angled from the ceiling made it pleasant.

"Two margaritas on the rocks," I said to the bartender.

We sipped our drinks, chatted and took in our surroundings. The bar we were at separated the street from the rest of the club, and we could see another bar along the back wall. The dance floor was surrounded by bar height tables and to one side was an elevated stage. The place was mostly empty, although in the short time we were there more people had arrived. Most of these were young girls in fairly provocative attire, and it suddenly dawned on me that this might be some kind of special club.

Worried, I glanced over at Caitlin to see if she had noticed. Caitlin is not a goody-goody, but neither is she particularly experienced and tends towards the conservative in most things, so I wasn't sure how she would react.

"Interesting crowd," she said seconds later.

"Yes, seems to be," I replied, while cringing.

Fortunately, she left it at that and we went back to drinking the margaritas, discussing her surfing and the other activities we wanted to try. About that time, a middle age American man sat on the stool next to me.

"Howdy," he said when we made eye contact, with his accent confirming his nationality.

"How are you?" I replied.

"Good, thanks. Just out to see what's happening this evening," he answered.

"Us, too. Although, we're wondering if we came to the right place," I said in a low voice hoping Caitlin wouldn't hear.

"It's a friendly place. It's all good," he replied.

"Do you live here?" I asked.

The man introduced himself as Andy and explained that he didn't live in Costa Rica, but came down often for the fishing. I asked about the bar and he explained it was a pick-up spot for the working girls who were "independent contractors". They would meet their customers here and then depart with the man, woman or couple back to their hotel. There was also a "short time" motel around the corner that catered mostly to locals. He went on to tell me that it typically got filled Thursday thru Saturday with a combination of locals, expats and tourists, but tonight would be slow. Until I caught the eye of Andy looking over my shoulder, I hadn't realized that Caitlin was listening, too.

"Same old story. Men exploiting women," Caitlin said judgmentally, but without any real conviction.

"We're just a bunch of old dogs," Andy replied, not the least bit ashamed.

I introduced Andy to Caitlin, and we chatted a bit more about the place, and then some about the country and things to do. Andy explained that it was quite common for Anglo women to come into the bar, usually with their husband or boyfriend, and that there was no expectation that anyone had to partake. It was very much an open social scene, and everyone just mixed, chatted and drank. From nowhere, a woman suddenly appeared next to Andy and wrapped her arm in his.

"Meet Flor," he said to us, and we said our hellos.

Flor wasn't young but neither was she old. She was in a broad age category between thirty and forty that was hard to determine.

"We'll leave y'all be," Andy said to us a few minutes later, and he and Flor ambled back into the darker areas of the club.

More people had arrived, although it was still a small crowd, but we were clearly on the fringes of activity, with all the action occurring further inside. However, our spot along the street did allow us to watch without the stress of being in the middle of things, and being new to this it seemed like a plus.

"Do you want to go?" I asked Caitlin.

"Let's get another margarita. This is kind of interesting," she said, surprising me.

The bartender brought the fresh drinks, and our conversation shifted from vacation activities to observation and comments on what was unfolding before us. The girls were all Latinas, locals we supposed, but the men were mostly Anglo, either tourists or expats. The girls were gathered in clusters of two or three, although one would occasionally break free to engage with one of the smattering of men. Some proved successful in striking up a conversation, while others would be rejected and return to their friends. The girls came in all shapes and sizes, but for the most part they seemed quite young with only the occasional older woman like Flor.

"Ready?" I asked, standing to leave when our drinks were gone, thinking we were done for the evening.

However, I received a real shock when Caitlin replied, "Let's get another drink on the other side of the bar. It's hard to see from here."

Suddenly, things became awkward and somewhat uncomfortable for me. I wasn't exactly experienced in these kinds of places, so there was definitely some curiosity on my part, but I was wondering when Caitlin would get her fill and become disgusted. I had a bad vision of her becoming preachy for the remainder of the trip. However, I dutifully stood and led my wife to the other side where we claimed two seats. The music, especially the bass, was much more pronounced in just the few feet we moved, and a thin cloud of cigarette smoke hung in the air. Several girls had moved to the dance floor and were moving together to pass the time. After we ordered another round, we went back to people watching, this time much closer.

Sitting on the bar stool, Caitlin's shorts had ridden up showing most of her long legs and I noticed an older local guy, on the stool next to her, staring at them openly even after I caught him looking. I looked around the place for a few minutes and when I glanced back, he had moved so that his jean covered leg was touching Caitlin's bare thigh. It was a minor thing for sure and Caitlin didn't seem disturbed, so I let it go. A constant, slow parade of girls circled the floor and two quite attractive ones suddenly appeared before us. They made eye contact with me and I couldn't help but grin which my wife saw.

"Hola," she quickly said to them, causing me to start, confused about her intent.

The girls both responded in Spanish and over the hard beat of the music Caitlin held a discussion with them where we soon learned their names were Maria and Daniela. Maria was in a tight, black miniskirt and a red tube top. She was the petite one, short with small breasts. Daniela was larger, but not at all fat, and was wearing jeans and a white buttoned shirt that was partially open, exposing some cleavage. I caught enough of the conversation to hear that Caitlin was describing that we were on vacation, and that she had taken surfing lessons earlier.

"Did you learn the nickname for Juan Pablo?" I heard Maria ask in a low voice, that I don't think I was meant to hear.

"No?" Caitlin replied, looking at her with interest.

"I will tell you later," she replied, glancing in my direction.

Maria asked Caitlin if we would buy them a drink and she agreed, so I ordered two cocktails for the girls which were more expensive than ours, but still cheap enough that it wasn't a big deal. Their chatting continued with all three appearing to enjoy themselves, and soon I was ordering another round for everybody. The bits and pieces I could overhear let me know that Caitlin was gently probing the girls on the specifics of their jobs. Fortunately, she was doing it in a way that wasn't offensive and she seemed to be getting detailed replies.

Now Caitlin is not a big drinker, and we were already past her tolerance point, but since it was vacation, I didn't say anything. Maria and Daniela seemed to realize my wife was feeling the alcohol too, and were getting closer and "touchier" with their hands, occasionally landing them on her knees and thighs. The creepy local guy was still there too, with his leg pressed against my wife's, and I realized it was like she was surrounded.

I surmised that Maria and Daniela might think we were a swinging couple, and that Caitlin might be bisexual. It seemed they were strategizing that she was the key to a pick up.