DAY 3
Part I
Even the Dogs Love it Here
Kimberly and I both wake up after only about an hour of sleep since our room has no air conditioner and becomes unbearably hot pretty much as soon as the sun rises. The day is blazingly hot and bright even this early in the morning. I suggest we swim to breakfast instead of walking down the dry dusty road.
I put my bathing suit on and turn around to see Kimberly with a swim cap and goggles on.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask her.
"What do you mean?" She says innocently.
"This isn't the fucking Olympics." I snap. "We are in the Caribbean. On vacation. We are going to basically float half a mile to eat breakfast. Why are you wearing cap and goggles??? Are those fins?" I exclaim as she pulls an enormous pair of flippers out of her back pack.
"I can't swim without them!" She says. This is a ridiculous lie since I clearly saw her in the water yesterday without any of those things on.
"I refuse to be seen with you if you wear those, Kimberly. You look insane."
Like me, Kimberly has an oversized head, with an overabundance of hair. Her hair is even bigger than usual because of the humidity and the cap just barely fits her. It looks like it is going to burst at the seams at any second. The goggles are having a similar problem.
We finally compromise with her just wearing the goggles, and not speaking to me while they are on.
"Why did you bring those things anyways?" I ask as we walk down to the water. "For snorkeling?"
"No way! I hate putting my head under the water!" Kimberly looks at me as though I am crazy for even suggesting the idea. I don't even bother responding, and my hungover head is too muddled to even try to figure it out.
When we get to breakfast Kimberly just orders fruit.
"That's all you are getting?" I ask, appalled.
"Yeah. Don't you love just eating fruit and nuts for breakfast when you are on a hot, tropical island?"
Uh, yeah. As a side to my pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
When we finish I am so full I can barely move while Kimberly looks light and energetic.
"Aren't you going to finish the rest of your bacon?" She asks me with a little smirk.
As much as I love bacon, there is no way I can take another bite without puking. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing this though.
"I'm saving it for that poor stray dog." I say smugly, pointing at a black and white dog I spot panting under the shade of a palm tree. Nothing she can say to that!
I walk over to give it to the dog, a little nervous he might maul me when he smells the delicious bacon. He just stares at me as I walk close to him, stretching my arm out to offer him the bacon.
"Here puppy..." I call. He doesn't move, so I walk all the way up to the tree and set it down near his paws. He sighs, takes a couple obligatory licks, and then goes back to staring at the ocean.
When I get back to Kimberly she is laughing.
"That stray dog just snubbed you!"
"I know!" I exclaim. "What kind of homeless dog doesn't want bacon??"
As we walk back to our favorite beach I notice that all of the stray dogs look unusually content. None of them are too skinny, they frolic and play with each other in the ocean, and all their tails wag. Packs of them roam around, all living within perfect harmony of each other. This truly is the happiest place on earth I think.
We spend most of the day dozing and reading in the sun, taking refreshing dips in the water whenever it gots too hot. Every time Kimberly puts her goggles on I shake my head, but I don't even have the energy to make fun of her.
As the day goes on I get more and more lethargic, to the point where I can't even lift up my giant book, let alone my head, or open my eyes. I am starting to worry about having heat stroke when I hear a familiar sound. Creepy music, evil laughter, the crowd screaming. I struggle to sit up.
The amount of people on the beach has multiplied since I last looked, there is a DJ, and my favorite song in the world, Pepe, is playing. I see Kimberly's giant head pop up next to me. A grin spreads across her face as she realizes what is happening.
"Pepe!" She says happily.
Everyone begins dancing at once. Every one in the water, on the sand, people laying on lounge chairs, even the dogs. I feel saved and shimmy my way to the water where I jump and dance with two old Italian men in matching powder blue speedos. By the time the next song comes on, a song about the Playa (which I have proudly learned means beach) I feel a million times better.
In fact, I think it is just about time for a cold Presidente and the lunch I skipped while sleeping. Mmmmm, lunch.
We finally compromise with her just wearing the goggles, and not speaking to me while they are on.
"Why did you bring those things anyways?" I ask as we walk down to the water. "For snorkeling?"
"No way! I hate putting my head under the water!" Kimberly looks at me as though I am crazy for even suggesting the idea. I don't even bother responding, and my hungover head is too muddled to even try to figure it out.
When we get to breakfast Kimberly just orders fruit.
"That's all you are getting?" I ask, appalled.
"Yeah. Don't you love just eating fruit and nuts for breakfast when you are on a hot, tropical island?"
Uh, yeah. As a side to my pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
When we finish I am so full I can barely move while Kimberly looks light and energetic.
"Aren't you going to finish the rest of your bacon?" She asks me with a little smirk.
As much as I love bacon, there is no way I can take another bite without puking. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing this though.
"I'm saving it for that poor stray dog." I say smugly, pointing at a black and white dog I spot panting under the shade of a palm tree. Nothing she can say to that!
I walk over to give it to the dog, a little nervous he might maul me when he smells the delicious bacon. He just stares at me as I walk close to him, stretching my arm out to offer him the bacon.
"Here puppy..." I call. He doesn't move, so I walk all the way up to the tree and set it down near his paws. He sighs, takes a couple obligatory licks, and then goes back to staring at the ocean.
When I get back to Kimberly she is laughing.
"That stray dog just snubbed you!"
"I know!" I exclaim. "What kind of homeless dog doesn't want bacon??"
As we walk back to our favorite beach I notice that all of the stray dogs look unusually content. None of them are too skinny, they frolic and play with each other in the ocean, and all their tails wag. Packs of them roam around, all living within perfect harmony of each other. This truly is the happiest place on earth I think.
We spend most of the day dozing and reading in the sun, taking refreshing dips in the water whenever it gots too hot. Every time Kimberly puts her goggles on I shake my head, but I don't even have the energy to make fun of her.
As the day goes on I get more and more lethargic, to the point where I can't even lift up my giant book, let alone my head, or open my eyes. I am starting to worry about having heat stroke when I hear a familiar sound. Creepy music, evil laughter, the crowd screaming. I struggle to sit up.
The amount of people on the beach has multiplied since I last looked, there is a DJ, and my favorite song in the world, Pepe, is playing. I see Kimberly's giant head pop up next to me. A grin spreads across her face as she realizes what is happening.
"Pepe!" She says happily.
Everyone begins dancing at once. Every one in the water, on the sand, people laying on lounge chairs, even the dogs. I feel saved and shimmy my way to the water where I jump and dance with two old Italian men in matching powder blue speedos. By the time the next song comes on, a song about the Playa (which I have proudly learned means beach) I feel a million times better.
In fact, I think it is just about time for a cold Presidente and the lunch I skipped while sleeping. Mmmmm, lunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment