Yo Dee

The Star (St. Lucia) - Life Begins 2 Nite - - FRONT PAGE -

Okay, so it seems the on­line bom as­so­ci­a­tion—hence­forth to be re­ferred to as the OBA (not to be con­fused with OBE!)—has given up on me. I heard not a word not a word not a word from them this week. Still I’m won­der­ing how many lay­dees re­sponded to their last on­line ad­ver­to­rial? The money trans­fer lines were not un­usu­ally long last week­end, so could there be a mes­sage in there some­where? Any­ways, to the meat (no pun in­tended) of the mat­ter.

Over the week­end I checked in at a re­sort for some much needed R&R. Af­ter a few drinks I de­cided to slip into the pool and make like I was a tourist for a few hours. I was barely waist deep in the wa­ter when a quite siz­able beauty came storm­ing to­ward the smaller pool, ad­ja­cent to mine. Ev­ery­thing about her sug­gested lo­cal, if you know what I mean: loud and mah melee. Nat­u­rally I took a few steps back­wards, for my own safety, you un­der­stand. But then the whale had no in­ter­est in me, any­way. What had at­tracted her was the canoodling cou­ple in the pool a few feet from me, whom I had marked as hon­ey­moon­ers. Turned out the only vow they took to­gether was to have them­selves a hot and sweaty week­end be­hind closed doors. I guess af­ter a few hours of frol­ick­ing be­tween the sheets the AC lost its ef­fect. Hence the ac­tiv­ity in the pool.

How the real wife found her­self on the premises at just about the worst time, I’ve yet to dis­cover. And folks, the lady did not ap­pre­ci­ate the Pretty Woman per­for­mance with her hus­band play­ing Richard Gere to his floozy's Ju­lia Roberts. Funny thing though, it wasn’t Richard Gere who got the tongue lash­ing. That she saved for the woman wrapped around him. As they say, the only nasty names she didn’t throw at the pre­tend Ju­lia were those she for­got.

Of course by the time she jumped fully clothed into the pool I had long pulled out and de­posited my­self onto a pool-side chair, from which van­tage I took in the ac­tion. Just when my fe­male emo­tions be­gan to sym­pa­thize with the week­end Ju­lia Roberts she said some­thing that al­most blew me off my perch. As cool as an ici­cle she said: “Mam, but why yuh hot­tin’ up yuh head so? I was only bor­row­ing de man for the week­end!”

Yes, I know it sounds un­be­liev­able. But there you are. With all the imag­i­na­tion in the world I couldn’t make this up. All I could think was: But how some peo­ple brave so? The man wife catch you in the act and the best you can say for your­self is you planned to re­turn him af­ter you done? Then again, I guess hon­esty is al­ways the best pol­icy—if you can find any­thing hon­est in this mini-soap.

Thank­fully, se­cu­rity in­ter­vened. The ho­tel guests had a great time and doubt­less can’t wait to tell the folks back home. Chances are a few shot movies with their cell phones that could end up on YouTube. You never know. Let no one ever say again that lo­cal en­ter­tain­ment is lappo!

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