Dear Fancy Travel Magazine Editor,
I really appreciated the perspective offered in the “Top Ten Pampering Vacations for Women” piece you ran in last month’s issue about women and solo travel. The accompanying sidebar on single-occupancy budget hotels under $800 a night really shed a light on how desperately women need to take time to rejuvenate and replenish our overworked lives with a little “me” time. I’m thrilled to learn that hotels like those you often mention in your publication have lowered their costs in response to a growing population of stressed-out single women.
As an experienced solo traveler and freelance writer, I would love an opportunity to contribute a story, “Sex Tourism on a Budget,” which is specifically geared toward women in the lower-income brackets of your readership. I think you’d agree that sex tourism is a growing industry with potential to change the world economy while simultaneously eradicating anxiety and depression.
For many of America’s eight-hundred billion heterosexual, single, moderate income women in their thirties and forties, the idea of competing for bed time with the twenty-five semi-eligible bachelors currently residing in the Continental United States is as appealing as cashing in Groupons for colon hydrotherapy singles mixers. Most of us opt out of said group colonic treatments, stay home and masturbate to reruns of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations instead of suffering the humiliation of revealing oneself as one more god damn lonely single woman wading through a sea of perky twenty-somethings, blond hair extensions and knee-deep desperation in search of just a moment’s worth of eye contact, a prolonged handshake or even an elbow in the rib at these crowded, miserable events.
For one, it’s a losing battle. The available woman-to-man ratio is obviously tilted quite heavily in favor of the twenty-five men I mentioned. Women are left competing against one another in ways that even a crank-addicted heavyweight female wrestler would find appalling. After spending thousands of dollars on diets, cosmetic surgery, beauty products and “find your lost and confused soul mate and mold him into the man you’ve always wanted” workshops each year, women are left with little more than orange faux tan residue and one-way conversations with the millions of rescue cats adopted each year from local animal shelters they’ve subsequently renamed “Ewan McGregor” or “David Bowie.”
One answer to the lack of even short-term romantic fulfillment is to engage in a practice that men have enjoyed for thousands of years: sex tourism.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, Editor: most women found anywhere within the spectrum of this specific lifestyle demographic are working subpar jobs and could never justify or even afford the expense of two weeks in a five-star resort, let alone the added fees of hiring local male sex workers. Most of these women can’t even convince employers to give them adequate time off of work.
Editor, I know. In my article, I will reveal the secrets of finding love during international travel while simultaneously avoiding the high fees that often accompany mainstream, male-centered sex tourism packages.
The first thing women should know is that one need not attempt channeling Elizabeth Gilbert and set standards so high as to snag a polite and willing man with the sweet sexual nectar of Javier Bardem. More often than not, these high expectations are met with an esteem-shattering disappointment too massive to fit in the overhead carry-on department of even the largest international jetliner. Nor shall women set sights on exotic destinations like French Polynesia or Zanzibar.
Standards should be set incredibly low, which should be fairly simple considering some women are so lonely that they have convinced themselves that they are in complicated, long-distance relationships with the men in their volunteer prison literacy programs. Destinations like Cancun or even Tijuana not only offer low-cost travel, but also provide many eager and willing potential matches without the inconvenience of pesky ankle bracelets or other types of government-enforced restraints. These destinations offer surprising opportunities to fulfill unmet needs.
One avenue for a successful sex tourism experience is to abide by some variation of the following itinerary:
First, a woman should end up alone, on a whim in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, en route to an illegal Cuban vacation. This woman should seek out a cheap room as close to the beach as possible, preferably her own private cabana tucked behind a small restaurant that works on some sort of naïve honor system when it comes to self-serve alcohol and fresh tortillas.
Next, this solo female traveler should begin drinking immediately and spend some time sunning her pale, mid-winter flesh in the blistering Caribbean sun. This is the first and most crucial step to prepping for an encounter with a special someone. Dr. Dean Edell reported last month that researchers have scientifically proven that three Coronas with lime and two shots of tequila, followed by two hours face down and asleep in foreign sand fight Seasonal Affective Disorder by 80% and make women 65% more alluring to male travelers (and contribute to male travelers’ sex appeal by varying levels), increasing opportunities for love and vacation sex by around 143%.
After the beach face-plant, the solo female traveler should shower, change into another swim suit, throw on a sun dress of questionable length, slide on some flip flops and apply her bottled pheromones, (available for $14.99 through most pleasure party representatives) to the nape of her neck, ensuring her canister of designer pepper spray is tucked safely in her wallet. While her hair is still wet and the third degree sunburn continues to set in—leaving her with an air of sun-kissed, vibrantly glowing sexual mystique—she should peruse the local bars in search of fifty-year-old Canadian tourists to buy her several shots of tequila, peach schnapps and Irish car bombs. She must avoid any large meals in order to reap the full benefits of the free alcohol, while at the same time pacing herself as she eyes the crowd for available bachelors.
Often, touristy destinations like the Mayan Riviera often draw honeymooning couples and corporate conservative types, with the majority employed by large international accounting firms. According to my research, the more conservative men tend to take a liking to women with free spirits, foul mouths, tattoos and radical, leftist politics. I’d advise women to not dismiss these men. Often, they have experienced some degree of internalized oppression and their inner, more sensitive sides can come out of their rough, six-pack-abs exteriors with the right women. And the right amount of alcohol.
After selecting the top choice from what the Playa del Carmen bar scene has to offer, the next step is simple. The solo female traveler should strike up a conversation, and ask if he’d like to take her on a date. 90% of the time, he’ll say, “yes.” Unlike at domestic single’s events, women do not need to impress their newly acquired “friends” with high levels of intelligence, impeccable taste in literature or overly hygienic grooming practices. Men on vacation in Playa del Carmen seldom care about such trivial matters. After the date is an agreed upon next step, the woman and her date should drink more. A lot more. She should visit a fancy restaurant that she is too drunk to sit still in, taking the three-course meal in to-go boxes for consumption at a later time. Then, as a ploy to sober up, she should suggest a quick plunge in the sea.
After a mildly sobering ocean frolic, she should lead her date back to the beach and search for large, black, waterproof mattress-looking props in which to receive a couple’s Mexican Milk Massage or Masaje Atractivo de la Leche as it is called in the Riviera. This unique bonding experience is not a regularly advertised service on the beaches of Playa del Carmen so one must saunter (now holding hands with the new fiancé) from one outdoor bar to the next, asking for pints of milk to soothe the sunburn on the back of her crimson thighs. I cannot stress the importance of this step enough. While the sensation of several pints of milk flowing across one’s hot, blistering flesh is a surprisingly sexy and albeit healing experience, this ultimate frosty dairy binge sets up an opportunity for another intimate bonding experience later in the evening, when she solicits assistance in cleaning the milk, salt water and sand mix off with the tepid water in her cabana’s tiny romantic shower stall. It’s like a private high-end spa treatment; only it doesn’t cost a cent. And there is the slight possibility of vomiting without him ever noticing.
I will reveal the following steps to “Sex Tourism on a Budget” in the article I wish to write for your magazine.
Editor, this DIY guide is just one example of options women have to take life into their own hands, grasp it like a cheap bottle of Cuervo Gold and drag it into a tangle of unbridled, dizzying holiday passion. Again, I would love an opportunity to share more factual, well-researched scientific information and statistics with your subscribers and can also share advice or stories such as “Ten Steps to Your Very Own Personal Dirty Pretty Woman Weekend in London” as well as “International Grassroots Work in Kenya: An Untapped Resource for Finding a Soulmate.”
Again, I thank you for considering my pitch for possible publication in your reputable travel magazine. I look forward to hearing back from you soon.
Your loyal reader,
Dani Burlison