Should you let drunk men into your house?

As an underemployed, yet inexplicably optimistic blogger, I am constantly whiling away the afternoon researching the nuts and bolts of full time van-living down by the river on various forums and websites. I recently stumbled upon David, a life long drifter of questionable morals and decisions. Generally, David the Drifter loaded everything he owned into a 1997 Dodge van and hit the road a year or two back. Most of the time, he is generally and generically lost in America, but specifically now, he is working as a cook at a lodge in the Grand Tetons.

Before taking this *real job*, his first in a while, as he had been drinkin', druggin', and driftin' in Mexico and passes on this piece of advice, of which, who are we to argue?

"On to a brighter subject, yesterday was the Super Bowl. While this game is big in the United States, it is not very popular here in Mexico. I got off work and headed to town in search of some football and beer. As I walked along the road, I found a spot to sit and wait for the bus. While I was sitting there, an older gentleman, doing the Corona Cha-Cha, strolled over to me. With my limited knowledge of the language, I smiled and agreed with everything he said and soon he gave me his beer. At this point I had been waiting for the bus for over an hour and was about to head home, when this gentleman led me from the bus stop to his house about 25 feet away. I assumed that he was being hospitable and was gonna offer me some more beer or some drugs.Once inside his house, we shared a hug and I took a seat. This is when something out of place happened. The gentleman started rubbing my shoulders and grabbed my mini-drifter. Now, it has been a long time since someone touched me there, so at first I was about to go ahead and go with it. Then I got to thinking, wait, do I want this guy to be the last experience I have? What if I don't get some for like another five years? Will I always be seeing that cowboy hat on my stomach when I take care of myself? I politely stood up, headed for the door and said adios. The bus arrived and I went to town, drank some beers and watched the game. I even attempted to talk to some girls, as after all I was already warmed up. I failed and returned to the house. Remember: if a strange drunk man tries to get into your house, it is probably not for drugs. Do not go home with strange drunk guys. Other than me. I love you all."