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Several years ago, on a poorly planned surf trip to Costa Rica, my friends and I
ran out of money. You've heard the story. One night you're sipping fruity drinks
and throwing down handfuls of brightly colored colones (Costa Rican cash).
Next
thing you know, you're a few hangovers and a bribe or two down the road in your
beat-up Toyo van, drying off from a day of surfing, and the money's gone.
Normally, you could squeeze a few beans out of friends or relatives, but there
are none handy. As it stands, you can't even afford the fuel to get back to the
airport. |