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What Am I Doing Here?? It was a honeymoon suite, in Ixtapa. Heat emanated from cracks in the street. The only relief was a ceiling fan, while iguanas perched as gargoyles in corners of the room. Wizened catalpas clung to spindled limbs, as a burro downed bottled beer. Staggering, it settled in the dirt as I wondered, what am I doing here?