Saturday, August 13, 2016
*names have been changed to protect the identities of people who annoy me. then again, maybe they haven't.
*also in writing this I forgot it was supposed to be fiction and not just a retelling of events that really happened, so carry on to chapter two to read more fiction ....
The skies in Antigua had turned grey for the day and were feeling extra generous, allowing one warm rainstorm after the other to dance its way onto land. Quiet at first, as one minute the showers were seemingly in the middle of the ocean and then just seconds later they had snuck their way right on top of you. Leaving you soggy and covered in its droplets as if you were a cold Rum and Diet, left outside for a moment too long.
“It’s just a few swells sent in from the water,” the locals would say, “the ocean knew the island needed a clean up.” It was the week of Carnivale, after all.
So as the ocean was doing her work, Chris and I took refuge in our little bungalow of a room just a few feet from the ocean herself, with a couple of books and couple of mimosas. The scenic rocks in front of our room, a spot usually covered in crabs and honeymooners who had just arrived on their first day, were empty. Presumably both were hiding out in drier areas until the storm passed. There’s clearly a joke in there about crabs and honeymooners, so let's do a “choose your own adventure” as to allow you to come up with your own.
Did you get one? Good, I’m sure it was hilarious.
Moving right along.
By noon I had finished my book and was getting itchy from being cramped in the room all morning. Or at least that’s what I told Chris, but in reality I was getting itchy for another drink. It was our last day of “all inclusive” and damn it I needed to get my money’s worth. Never mind that I didn’t really want to drink, the fact of the matter was that I had paid for the drinks so the drinks needed to happen. I’m from the Midwest, I can’t help it.
Slugglish from our adventure “into town” the evening before, we slowly made our way toward the main bar. Chris in his teal and pink chubbie swim trunks he’s worn every day and me in my “this is my 5th day of vacation and sadly don’t care about my appearance like I did on the first day” gross linen pants and an even grosser tank top. However as we got closer to the bar we were both slightly a taken back to see how busy it was. It was hardly 12:15 in the afternoon. And it was raining. And we weren’t there. What was all the fun commotion about?
And then we saw them. Trevor and Melanie. Melanie and Trevor. Mel and Trev. T and M.
The Honeymoon It Couple of the resort. Of course there was a party going on.
We first learned of the It Couple while having a few cocktails before dinner our first night on the resort.
Everyone was making small talk and sipping on their Rum Rollers, “When did you get married?” “How many guests?” “Where at in Texas?” “Was the reception inside or out?” It was all very pleasant and quiet, until suddenly it wasn’t.
With a pair of Sperrys on his feet, and a short sleeved button down shirt damp in places it shouldn’t be, Trevor entered the bar to his own mouthed drum roll as if he were Clark Griswold turning on his Christmas lights for the first time. He strolled in with his head bowed, and a beer in each raised hand to announce his presence. His wife, Melanie, or Mel as her resort friends call her, trailing close behind. Her hands also outstretched before her just like her “hubs.” I wondered for a second if we had accidentally stumbled into their wedding reception. Was this their “first entrance?”
All attention quickly turned toward them, as there was really no other choice given the size of the bar, and the size of their personalities.
“WE’RE ALIVE,” Trevor announced to no one particular, although several people seemed to care. “Barely! But we are alive.”
“They’re they are!” Someone said, so many faces suddenly lighting up to see Trevs and Mels had finally joined the party.
“Don't listen to him, he's been drunk all day!" Melanie added, playfully slapping him on the back.
"Guilty!!!" Trevers admitted.
"Of course he is!" Said a guy from Iowa named Chip, a smile spread wide across his face. "Such a Trevor thing to do," said another person.
"You would NOT believe what we’ve been through today,” Melanie added. "Always an adventure with this guy!"
"You love it!" Trevor planted a kiss on her in a way that made me extremely uncomfortable.
Chris and I exchanged looks. His friendlier than mine, as that’s just the nature of the two us. I can’t help but be cautious of people who seem to require an attention-grabbing entrance, while Chris is always more optimistic.
Whatever the case, this couple was great at captivating an audience. I had to give them that.
Trev Trev and Mellers spoke with “ya’lls” and “sweet thangs” although we would learn they weren’t from the South at all. I heard Michigan, Chris heard Idaho, and at one point I heard their biggest fan, Iowa Chip, claim his new friends weren’t even from America. I think he said Canada. So the verdict is still out on that one.
Sure they were loud, but they also had that fun factor about them. There was no denying that. I could understand the instant interest. They asked you questions and made you feel like they wanted to get to know you, until you started to answer their question at which point they became a little bored and turned their own question back on themselves.
As someone who isn't great at social interaction with new people, I find this quality in a person fascinating. Redeeming? No, not necessarily. But fascinating never the less.
I proceeded to watch as the IT COUPLE grabbed seats at the front of the bar, but never actually sat down. It's easier to command attention standing, I imagine.
"Now you're all in BIG big trouble," Trevor said and everyone laughed so he continued. "Tttttttttoday junior."
"Is he doing Billy Madison bits? Is this real? " I asked Chris. "I don't understand this situation right now."
Mels playfully rolled her eyes at Trev and then she did a little wiggle dance with her butt, another thing that only confused me further.
"This one, she's just like Elaine from Seinfeld I swear," Trev Trav poked her in the ribs.
"Chris," I whispered, "I don't know a lot about Seinfeld, but I know that makes literally zero sense. Of all the things to make sense, that is in the category of the least." He shooshed me and told me to stop being rude. "I can't help it, it's like they rehearsed all this before."
And then the attention was turned to us.
“Cubs hat, huh? Ya’ll from Chicago?” Trev Trev Banana Fo Fev asked, seemingly curious about Chris and I, the newest couple to the resort.
“Yeah man, what about you?” Chris responded, always happy to meet someone new.
"Chicago guy, nice. Love that city! Where do you live?" Trevvy asked.
"We're in--" Chris started to say but before he could finish TMAN interrupted him.
"You near Wrigleyville?" Trev asked.
"We LOVE Wrigleyville." Meller Beller added. "LOVE."
"Pretty sure I'm not allowed to go anywhere on the street anymore though! Sorry for partying! HAHAHA!" Trev Trev shouted for no apparent reason.
And then my head exploded.
"Are you almost ready?" Trevor asked Melanie as he ran over his lines in the mirror one more time.
Melanie groaned a little. "I'm having explosive diarrhea. Can't we take just one day off?"
***** to be continued... tomorrow!*****