Do you know what makes me happy? Laughter…
On my way to work Thursday, while I was traveling about 38 mph in a posted 35 mph zone, I noticed an older man speeding passed me in the outside lane. He then quickly moved in about 100 feet in front of me and slowed down to an almost complete stop while he cautiously eased over the cement lip that edged the local diner parking lot that he was entering. This of course caused me, as well as the drivers catching up, to brake while we waited for this douchebag. I did not laugh at this. In fact, I felt his maneuvering was breaking all sorts of driving protocols.
So it was a good thing that I had something to look forward to: My day was going to end with dinner with family and friends at a local restaurant. This is a group of people who are just as silly as I am. So silly that it is quite amazing that we were able to make it through dinner without getting thrown out of the restaurant for our R-rated conversations and laughing too loud. Instead, the owner gave each of us a pen marked, “This pen has been stolen from Desert Inn.”
More Aruba Stories
The soiree at the Desert Inn was initiated by my aunts who have been home from Aruba for a few weeks now. During dinner we were revisiting some of the Aruba stories I had posted in my blog. Then my aunts said I had missed the big yearly event: The week of the 20-something frolicks in the hot tub — which is the reason why you will never see most condo owners use it.
Yes, every year during college winter breaks around the world, there is at least one but usually more couples that end up making their way to my aunts’ condo area hot tub during the evening and “doing it.” They seem to be tricked by the surrounding bushes that hide the hot tub from passers-by and are completely surprised and embarrassed when a condo owner yells out from one of the 20 balconies that are in full view of the hot tub from overhead, “Hey, quit having sex in our hot tub! We all can see you!” This usually sends the couple into hiding it is assumed because they normally are never seen by the condo owners again.
This time, though, the exhibitionists were not called out from afar in the dead of night and had no idea that they had been seen. So they quite confidently returned during the next day for a soak in the tub while all the condo owners lounged poolside.
Of course after it got around that these two had had their fun in the tub, and after deciding that they couldn’t let the sex-crazed youngsters go without inflicting some type of embarrassment for breaking social protocol, condo owner Crazy Eddie volunteered to do the honors while the rest sat and listened…and laughed out loud.
In between introductions and other small talk, he of course let the lovers know that their private moment wasn’t all that private and added a special comment directed at the girl, who was almost under water at this point, “I once looked like him,” nodding to the well-built, tanned stud, “but now I have man boobs and saggy skin, so enjoy it while it lasts.”
I’m thinking that the condo owners should just post a sign, “Have sex in the hot tub at your own risk.”
The Boys’ Room
After dinner ended, we sat around laughing and chatting. The lovely waitress, who kept checking on our needs and refilling our water glasses, asked us all if we would like to try a Dirty Mother, the restaurant’s specialty dessert-type drink, which consists of Kahluha, Bailey’s, Brandy and vanilla ice cream all blended together.
Our one friend who is delicate, kind and soft spoken asked, “A what?” So we repeated the drink name and the ingredients, and although he looked a bit quizzical, he joined all of us in answering that, “Yes, we think we want a round of Dirty Mothers.” After the waitress left the table to put in this order, this friend excused himself and went to the restroom. We continued chatting and laughing.
Upon returning from the restroom to his seat, our friend said, “Um…I was in the restroom…um…going into…you know…the wall bowl…, and I asked the guy next to me if he ever had a Dirty Mother.”
While we all let out a surprised laugh, we also pretty much asked in unison, “What did he do?”
“Well, I think he said, ‘What?’ So I explained it was a house drink. He said he never had a Dirty Mother. I don’t really know what happened after that because I became extremely aware of how tall he was and how his bowl seemed lower while mine was higher so I was just focusing on how high I had to…get.”
While I guess that he may have broken urinal protocol of no small talk, at least according to this article: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/thinking-man/10402308/Urinal-etiquette-the-10-commandments.html, we laughed and laughed all the way home. Besides, if you’re going to go against protocol, I find this one much more tolerable and amusing than the people who think they own the road or can do anything they want in a community hot tub.
Thanks for making me laugh.