It rained most of the the afternoon - so I've had time to get synched up again. Here's an update.
No specific plans for tonight yet
I have a habit of waking up a little after sunrise and, in spite of having being up all night trolling the beach and drinking, this morning was no exception. I got out of bed, groggy, left the room and went for a dip in the ocean out in front of White Sands. The cool, fresh sea water brought me around a little. While I dripped dry I looked around for Fabs but he was nowhere to be seen. No surprise, it was early. I hauled a beach lounge into the shade of a coconut palm, flopped down upon it, and promptly dozed off. I don’t know how long I slept, but I awoke some time later when the fruit lady came by. Her calls of “AAANNNNY FRUITS?” roused me. Feeling the need to continue with my nap, I stumbled back up to my room, turned on the A/C and passed out for what seemed to be a long, long time.
When I awoke from my prolonged nap, I was bleary and thickheaded. You know how it feels when you’ve over slept what was supposed to be a twenty minute cat-nap? I had no idea what time it was and since I don’t wear a watch when I’m on the beach, I wasn’t about to dig my Ironman out to check. To tell the truth, I had a bit of a hangover, and for the umpteenth time I swore that I would never again try to match Fabs when he got going on his damn Tequila shooters.
I got out of bed and lurched out onto the balcony. The beach was awash in bright sunshine. By the quality of the light, I judged it to be early afternoon.
Gazing out across the ocean, my perception of the world came slowly into focus. I regained enough consciousness to remember that I had agreed to meet some people at the Sun Beach bar in the afternoon. They had copies of my books, (this is where I unabashedly pimp my titles – ‘Walk Good’ and ‘Sunset Negril’, both available on Amazon.com), and I’d said I would sign them. After splashing some water on my face I lurched down the stairs and walked out to the beach. The sea was aqua, the sky was a matchless blue . . . it was another beautiful day in paradise. I glanced over to the sun deck where Fabs and I usually camped out, but he wasn’t there. Probably sleeping up in his room, I figured.
I wandered northward, feeling lethargic. Halfway to Sun Beach I began to feel coherent again. When I arrived, a quick look around the bar confirmed that the people I’d arranged to meet were not there. Hmmmm. What to do? Then I noticed that there were three good looking young women sitting together on the far side of the bar, sipping on tall cocktails. Where was Fabs when I needed him?
It was very early in the day for me, I’d virtually just gotten out of bed, but these girls were definitely worth checking out. I pushed my sunglasses up on my nose and sauntered nonchalantly around the back of the bar to a craft shop that was located back there. I tried on a couple of hats, which is really strange because I have no need for a hat – I have four with me and a couple of dozen back home. My eyes kept seeking a peek through the shop windows, endeavoring to capture a quick look at the women sitting at the bar. I exited the shop and stood out on the deck there. They were three brunettes, they had a kind of Latina look to them and all three were in bikinis and lookin’ very fine. As I was checking them out, I thought I saw one of them check me out. Nah, couldn’t be - when you cruise with Fabs, it feels strange to get noticed.
I decided to go back to White Sands, find Fabs, bring him back to Sun Beach, and sic him on the babes. I walked back along the beach, checking for Fabs all the way. I didn’t see him so I went up to his room. The door was open so I walked in. “Hey, Fabs,” I called out. He wasn’t there.
I wandered into the bathroom – and immediately wished I hadn’t. I have a pretty strong gag reflex and I almost tossed the coconut and banana that I’d eaten when I got up. The bathroom floor was a disaster. I won’t go into details, but the following nouns spring to mind, flotsam, jetsam – crap and corruption. And the smell – Lord, it was powerful enough to knock a turkey buzzard off a honey-wagon.
Nuff said, nah tru?
Obviously, Fabs had managed to plug the toilet while he was dropping the kids off at the pool that morning. Then, just as obviously, he’d fled, seeking help.
I turned and beat a hasty retreat. As I got to the door I met Fabs coming back in. He was looking all hound-dog, sheepish and embarrassed. Behind him was Henry, the White Sands general maintenance man and behind him was a worried looking younger maintenance guy, Blacka, who was wearing gloves and boots. He was toting a big, gnarly looking toilet-plunger. Two chambermaids, equipped with pails and mops and cleaning supplies, made up the rear of the procession.
“You plugged it good, eh, dude?” I announced loudly. It was all I could do to stop from laughing out loud.
“Yeah, well, I flushed it and the water just kept coming up and up and . . . you know. I’m gonna pay the girls $20 for their trouble,” he said.
“Twenty? You should be paying them at least $50,” I said. By then I was out the door and I burst out laughing. Henry was there and he started to laugh too and we descended the stairs snickering the whole way.
I stopped at the landing and looked up at Fabs, who was standing in the doorway to his room, he looked traumatized. I told him I’d meet him at the beach. I felt a sudden and urgent need to fully immerse myself in the ocean.
