I Had S*x on Top of The Mayan Ruins Of Tulum

“Bro, you have to go say what’s up, you’re Tristan!” Whispered my buddies Ricky and Bugi as we sat in the car, just arriving back from the gym.

There she was, at the time I didn’t know she was a world famous acrobat and gymnast, to me she was another gorgeous petite girl dressed in typical Tulum traveler attire.

Long flowy dressed that was knitted out of brown material that looked mesh like as it sat on her sun tanned body, a green and blue bikini underneath.

It appeared that she had just gotten back from the beach, walking through the upscale Tulum neighborhood of Aldea Zama.

“What do I say to her?” I asked the boys in the car. “Bro, I don’t know, just say something?!” They said as they knew I was the only one in the car that was ballsy enough to make a move on her.

“Fuck it” I thought to myself, I knew it too, these guys weren’t going to say anything and I was going to have to be the one.

I jump out of the car without a shirt on my back, and bright silver and black velour pants that look like they belonged to a pimp or a track athlete from the 80s.

“Where’s the party?” I shout from across the street while I walked towards her. After years of putting your balls into your throat and just saying something, your intuition sometimes allows you to go into auto pilot if you make the decision to move.

“I don’t know, you tell me!” She shouted back. Hooked. I knew I had her at that moment.

After engaging in some small talk that only lasted about 45 seconds, I see someone walking up out of the corner of my eye. A regular looking guy, maybe 5’10, wearing glasses and a t shirt with jeans, nothing really remarkable about him.

I see him walk within my frame of view and kind of just pause there. “Weird” I think to myself, but whatever. I got a feeling he was waiting for her, so I grab her number quickly and run back to the car.

It turns out it was her date, and she was looking for his apartment, and I had grabbed her number directly in front of him. I turn around after getting back into the car and the looks on my friends faces were as if I just secured the number to Paris Hilton or some other A list celebrity.

“You’re the mannnn what the fuck!” My boys exclaim as I get back into the car. Feeling like the man, we dip around the corner back to the house. This girl was so beautiful that none of us realized we were parked at the wrong apartment.

A few hours go by and I receive a text. “Hey, it’s _____ :)” Names will not be divulged in the emails, you have to sign up for The Social Club for information like that.

“Hey! How was your date? ;)” I reply back, as we engage in small talk about how long she’s going to be here and what not.

He wasn’t her type. Typical. He didn’t seem like a bad guy or anything, but when you have someone who portrays danger, fun and excitement as someone in pimp-like velour sweatpants does in a tropical jungle setting, it’s hard to compete.

She was leaving in two days to go back to Miami to go to Art Basel. A typical story of Tulum, here for one week and gone the next. As is the status quo, I knew I had to move fast.

“Have you ever been to the ruins at the end of the beach?” I ask her.

“No” the response I was expecting and also love to hear.

I ask to borrow the car from Ricky, without telling why but giving a wink in my eye, he knew the deal.

It was soon to be dark out and the police loved to extort tourists at this time in 2021, so I knew we had to be quick.

Bolting in the silver-grey Chevy Cruze that we rented on a month to month basis, I pick her up from her airbnb and get moving.

She talks about the date and how he was a sweet guy, but just not her type. More about her life as an acrobat, gymnast and professional event hoster in Miami.

“A woman of excitement.” I think to myself. I know exactly how to handle these.

I talk about my life as a day trader and how I ended up in Tulum, how living there has changed my life and how going to the beach and gym everyday was regular for me. How girls come and go out of Tulum so I have to be fast when getting to know them or else the chance slips from my fingers. I say this last part as I place my hand on her inner thigh, keeping my eyes on the road but having the intent of a lion while doing so.

There was a back road that lead straight to the beach, and if you’ve ever been to Tulum you would know about the stairs all the way at the end of the public beach that lead up to the abandoned ruins that once served as a jail for rule breakers in Mayan society.

With dusk soon approaching, we walk up the stairs and position ourselves overlooking the cliffs and waters from where once Mayan men and women prayed to see their loved ones again.

I ask her to film a video for me, and I stand on the cliffs and deliver one of my motivational speeches on how you can do anything you put your mind to, very on-brand for Tristan at the time, (and for those of you who remember Guap Brady).

After grabbing the phone back from her I pick her up in my arms and she automatically wraps her legs around me. Kissing her airborne, I spin her around and ask her if she’s ever made love on top of Mayan ruins overlooking the beach in Tulum before. A very specific question for a very specific answer.

“No,” she replies, “But there’s a first time for everything.”

I said there is. As we start going taking off each others clothes, she asks my favorite question of all time.

“Do you have a condom?”

I reach into the pocket of my $4.99 swim suit that I had gotten from the local grocery store. The light metallic blue hue of a bareskin Trojan condom illuminated off of the dimming sunset of the Tulum sky, reflecting the water and clouds in its mirror.

She was on her period so the condom dried out fast, so we had to schedule to go back to my house later, where some of the other boys and I had planned to take a mushroom trip together, but that’s another story for another time.

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- Tristan Social