Tuesday, March 1

everyone needs a busey moment

Okay so I have to admit, one of the best parts of my trip to Venezuela occured when we were in the aforementioned Woody's bar on Playa El Agua beach.

It's all young, tanned, hot tourists and South Americans in the bar. But there is this one old, white, middle-aged man at the bar with this 30-something Spanish woman. I figure they are just a tourist couple and so I try to ignore them, as they are visibly trying to blend into the room; making effort not to be noticed in their corner of the bar.

But I keep looking over at them and suddenly it hits me.

"Oh my god," I say to my sister. "Do you know who Gary Busey is?"

But she doesn't, and neither does anyone else we are dancing with. So I keep drinking and then finally, as the bar is about to close, get up the courage to go over and talk to him.

"Ummm... I was wondering, are you Gary Busey?" I stammer out. He gives me a weird look, so I decide I am wrong and start rambling that I am sorry, he must get it all the time that he lookes like Busey.

But no! I am not. Because in the best turn of events, Busey winks at me, leans in and whispers: "Don't tell anyone I am here, okay?"

Then the real Paige ramblings begin, and I gush about how I loved him in Entourage and Busey asks me my name and such. It was just a strangely magical time, and he slipped out of the bar with his Spanish date right after I walked away. So weird. So Busey.

But yes, there you have it: one of my top Margarita Island moments.
(Don't worry, there are still many more tales to come.)