Peru story the first

We're checking into our hotel in Aguas Calientes, which is where you stay when you go to Macchu Picchu. It's me (clearly not Peruvian), Aaron (so totally not Peruvian), Cindy (blonde and blue-eyed, so not Peruvian), and Rafael (Peruvian). Two younger, pretty women are checking us in. As Aaron and I converse with one young woman in our craptastic Spanish, the other sidles over to Rafael and mumbles, "we have massages, sir". Cindy, who speaks Spanish fluently, overhears. Rafael knows Cindy's heard the proposition and looks over at her, wide-eyed. He moves closer to Cindy and ignores the young woman. The young woman doesn't get the hint; every time we stop at the desk she sidles over to Rafael and reminds him of the special service the hotel provides customers who may need a break from their white tourist friends.