throwing down in granada

Well life has been a bit of a throw back lately. Just when I thought I might have lost my ability to party like a rockstar I got my giddy up back. I think it is a result of my new group and their crazy energy and love for a good time. We´re about a week into this trip and things haven´t slowed down, I have gone to bed close to dawn more times in the last week than in the last six months.
Highlight include....
being serenaded by my guaro-drunken passengers at the local karaoke spot on Valentine´s day... I believe it was sweet caroline (which reminds me of another memorable night).
dancing salsa (some of us barefoot) at the infamous Amigos in Monteverde, then getting almost back to the hotel and deciding that we should take off in search of another party, which we started along the road side.
pissing everyone at the hotel off while we laughed and had an evening picknick at the hotel.
and finally last night happened...
Sarah who has been named of late the Disco Queen, bet me $10 to say to a booty shaking englishman, ¨You`re not a local are you? I can tell by how you dance.¨ As I was fairly far into the evening it didn´t take much for me to take her up on it. Luke, my new friend from the other side of the pond, turned out to be a friendly chap. He was passing the time in Granada with to ridiculously drunk friends, one especially so. Patrick was the lovely man`s name, he came complete with the irish flag tatooed on his arm. Patrick was game to attempt to dance to reggaeton and salsa which provided me with much entertainment. We were all getting along nicely until Patrick got into it with a nasty Norte Americano. Punches were flying, gringos and nicas running. The whole thing was broken up pretty quickly and Patrick ended up escorted outside. Patrick being a well bred Irishman was not through with the fight. I was trying him to walk home with the local watchyman, but he didn`t know his hotel name. In the time it took me to run inside and inquire about his lodging, Patrick`s nemesis emerged from the bar. The guy looked at me and said, ¨North American? Where are you from?¨
¨California.¨
¨It f`ing figures.¨
I only mention this part of the interaction because I am still not sure what he meant by that, but no matter. Then the guy set into speaking some of the most ridiculous spanglish I have heard in a while, ¨Telefono the police-o. I want this guy in jail-o.¨
The security guards only looked at him puzzled while trying to hold back an eager Patrick, whom I ended up grabbing and throwing up against a wall while telling him that he did not want a trip to a Nicaraguan jail. The security got the Norte Americano to retreat to the bar, and I finally got Patrick to walk back to his hotel with the watchyman but only after buying a single cigarette and a pack of gum.
The whole thing was a fascinating experience, mostly because I kept thinking that had that been me fighting and any of the Nelly ladies had been around the whole thing would have turned into a brawl.
Any how thought I would share a little bit of the madness...
besos.