Sunday 8 June 2014

What Happens on the Island Stays on the Island- Part 1

Dear Friends,

Now, I have to be coy about this next story line because it is just delightful! (For the record, I try to be coy with ALL of my story lines, but this one is special and near to my heart.)

Why? You ask. Because it's FUN! All through this story, I've been struggling along, not having enough money to enjoy my life, not meeting people I could truly bond with, and here we are, spending a fun long weekend on an island! What caused this change of events?

In the story, Diva's sister decides to get married on Key West, affording her loved ones and their loved ones such as myself a chance to explore the Conch Republic and go to a party!

Of course, as is the case with any time Diva and I are together, the fun started before we even got to the island. Exhibit A is below.

Have a great week! I will blog again next week, as I have to go away for about a week to take care of some things- and I'm not taking my laptop with me. So, you will miss out on your usual Wednesday and Sunday dose of Jane, but I will blog again after the 16th. Until we meet again, amigos and amigas!

Love,
Jane


  Diva and I counted down the days until we went on a jaunt to Key West, where we shared a discounted hotel room since her sister was staging a destination wedding there. It was worth spending all of my birthday money to get to pretend for a few days that I was a normal person with money on vacation. A few days off from work were most welcomed.
  After work on Wednesday night, I drove home, showered, ate, packed my bag, and fell asleep for about two hours. Then, I was awake again with some help from my alarm, packed a cooler, and off I drove, in the dark of the night, to Fort Meyers.
  That night, Diva woke up before the crack of dawn, drove west for a long time, and met me at the parking area for the Key West Express at about 7 a.m. She found me asleep in my car and woke me by knocking wildly on my car window. I awoke in a mad panic, which we both found hysterical. (It wasn’t the first time this had happened.)
  Even from Miami, it took almost a day to drive to Key West. Given my time crunch, we opted to travel by ship, which was delightful on several levels.
  We didn’t gamble- we simply worked too hard for the money- but any ship that went more than three miles away from the U.S. shore was allowed to offer it. When most of the passengers moved indoors to gamble a few minutes into the trip, Diva and I headed to the sun deck, where I used my trusty black scarf to hold back my hair. The sun was hot already (before 9 a.m.) but the breeze was cool enough for us to forget that the sun would burn our skin, and in my slumber I forgot to apply sunscreen. Diva, who scoffed at the mere mention of sunscreen, also skipped it.
  We noticed a man looking at us from the doorway leading into the casino. He stood about six feet tall and sported a blond crew cut. His coloring and physique reminded me of the latest James Bond actor, Daniel Craig, whom I’d developed a terrible crush on. Daniel Craig was a controversial Bond pick, as his blue eyes and blond hair were different from the previous dark-haired Bonds. However, Daniel Craig’s great acting and overall bad-assery had won over audiences everywhere, and it was his toned muscles and piercing blue eyes that claimed my heart too.
  This Daniel Craig stand-in was well built and good-looking in an All-American Guy sort of way. His broad shoulders made me want to salute something, anything. He wore pleated shorts and a button-down shirt with nautical patches on the arms, so I assumed he was a crew member.
  “Hubba hubba, would you look at that,” Diva said.
  “I know,” I said. “I haven’t seen anyone like that in a long time. And he’s looking at us! What should we do?”
  “Hell, I don’t know!” said Diva. “Maybe we should wave and yell, ‘Hello, cutie boy!’” Diva’s sabbatical from dating had gone on for longer than mine, and we were both clueless. So we sat there, transfixed. Eventually, he went inside to work, and I exhaled.
  There was a crowd of boisterous bachelorettes behind us, so we turned around to talk to them. Their stories spilled out quickly; they had converged from various parts of the country to celebrate, and had also noticed the man.
  “I saw him when I traveled on this ship a while back with some other friends,” said one of the women, an accountant from Kentucky named Kelly. “He really hates it when you grab his ass.”
  “You grabbed his ass?” Diva and I asked together.
  “I was drunk,” she giggled. “And yeah. Nice, firm ass. He’s a good-looking guy, too.”
  “Yeah, we noticed,” said Diva. “He was looking at us earlier, and Jane and I were like, what do we do? We were all sorts of flustered.”
  She laughed. “Don’t tell me you girls are single! Because I know some really awesome guys up in Kentucky!”
  “Oh dear,” said Diva as she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
  “Why not?” she asked.
  “Because we don’t go to Kentucky.”


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