Neither one of us said a word as we slowly made our way up the dark, constricted road. Rolling along carefully trying not to side-swipe a teen or two. They are still roaming all over the place. The music beckons me stay, but I wouldn’t enjoy myself with Drivah A so I chalk this night up to a loss and dejectedly ride away from the action.

Five minutes into the journey back to Negril, I had to speak…

“Tell me something A…how long had your daughter been home before you called? I ask because we could have been back to Negril in time to party a little at Bourbon Beach.”
“She was home long time before me call her. Her modda answer tell me the girl sleep inna bed. But Vi, is not late you know. Still plenty action in Negril all over.”
“I don’t understand why she didn’t call you to say not to come once she found another way home. That would have been the considerate thing to do. I know I shouldn’t fuss like this, but tomorrow is my last full day and night so I’m a little disappointed how this evening turned out.”
“I understand. I’m sorry you feel disappointment.”
“umm A?”
“Yes, Vi?”
“Why is your hand tracing up and down my thigh like you own it?”
“Me tell you…me nature ah still h….”
“Alright now listen to me good. I tagged along because our original plans of hanging out changed when you needed to handle family stuff. Remember that talk we had about being professional and how I’m strictly about business and how ALL OF THIS is off limits??? Well None of that has changed. Hands to yourself, okay?”
“Okay, okay, okay…I understand.”

Lawdemerceeeee I must have been talking to a tree frog because that behavior continued ALL the way to Negril. Each time I told him to stop or had to take his hand off me, I swear he sprouted another one that landed somewhere else on my body. I felt like I was in high school tracing off a puberty inflamed boy-teen…it was just that silly, irritating and exhausting.

Finally reached town and I couldn’t wait to power wash his finger prints off my skin. Unbelievable what I went through with someone his age. Not aggressive attention to where I felt I was in danger, but an immature insolence. Made me think a couple of sharp cracks across his knuckles with a wooden spoon would have worked since words didn’t. No matter, I’m back and about to be out.

“Vi, you want to go to Bourbon?”
“What?? No, A. Just take me to my place.”
“It’s early still. We can go to Las Vegas. Scrub A Dub?”
“The last thing you need is visual stimulation. No, I want to go in.”

He drives me to the gate and asks one more time about going to a club.

“Good night, A.” was my answer before closing the door and going inside.