vacation wrapup

the vacation. hm. there's actually been a lot of drama going on, and i haven't wanted to write about it, because i've been trying to put a positive spin on it (both for myself and for anyone listening to the tale), but the fact is, i had to bail from the house and check into a hotel. not that i could afford such things... this means more nights that i will have to leave my apartment unattended when i get back (to work & make back the $$), leaving ample opportunity for whomever broke in and realized my laptop traveled with me to break back in and try again... but whatever. that's a worry for tomorrow. the hotel was absolutely necessary, both for (real estate) work and for general piece of mind. and i LOVE hotels, if you three readers didn't already know that. anyway. back to sunday: the market didn't happen, because i was asleep, but there was a dinner, on the patio of a delicious greek place, with a handful of ee's bright, intelligent, and witty friends. after dinner (fantastic salmon!), we took off for the aforementioned karaoke downtown. ee took to it immediately, even borrowing a stetson from a guy back at the pool tables who spoke little/no english, as a prop to do kid rock's "cowboy," as well as about a half dozen other songs, mostly with help from her friends. i suppose i seemed antisocial, because i was keeping close to the bar with the few other drinkers (plus i was trying to be courteous about my occasional smoke), and chatting up her neighbor, who i took a quick shine to, but they were all sweet and kind and we had a great time, despite my general hatred of (and yet semi-regular appearance at!) karaoke. then, after, some (good) stuff happened that i feel like i can't write about, because i haven't really decided exactly how anon this here blog thing is, and whether i want to reveal *other* people's secrets... (topic for another post)... and then more potentially not-blog-worthy stuff after, which was not as good... hmm. i guess it's time to decide where i'm really going with this thing. suffice it to say that this is the point where the vacation finally turned to the "sex, drugs, and rock & roll" phase, which is really what i was going for, and which, let's face it, is the fun stuff... monday is sort of a blur; i must have slept through it. monday night, i finally got down to the juice bar, where i met frankie, the aformentioned ziggy marley hotness, who lived up to his description, but was working and distracted... though he did come over and introduce me to a fruit that i'd never heard of, which i LOVE... mame? texture like a sweet potato, but sweeter, native to florida and/or the tropics... apparently it grows for an entire year before it's ripe, as opposed to a regular growing season, which gives it more nutrients? gotta look it up. it was YUMMY. and then tuesday is where it all broke loose. the woman who owns the house where i was staying appeared after a 4 month absence, wanting my room, wanting to know why i was there, and wanting explanations for all the things that had broken/gone astray, in the natural order of things, when you leave a house uncared for, for that long. all i know is when i woke up, the side of the house with the computers and, more importantly, the coffeemaker and water source, was locked down, and there was some story about a threat on her life, and sneaking into the country... i decided enough was enough. even after my decision to leave, things still kept going wrong-- after i'd rescued my belongings and packed them up, and stepped outside to smoke while i waited for ee to give me a ride to a hotel, i got locked out of the house and was subsequently eaten alive by mosquitoes-- but eventually, by nightfall, i was comfortably (and expensively) ensconced in a hotel room down on hallandale beach. peace and quiet, at last... so i got some work done, finally, and some restful sleep... then wednesday, a little more work, followed by a marathon sex session (ok, only 3 full action-packed hours), with someone from a previously excised story, which i needed in ways that i don't even want to 'fess up to... holy smokes, did that ever turn my brain around. more, please! a quick nap later, i ventured down to the lobby bar in search of RED MEAT, which has been woefully absent in my trek down here with the health crowd, and which i craved beyond rationality for obvious reasons... now, i don't know about anyone else, but having lots of sex makes me personally want to have MORE sex, and IMMEDIATELY... (after a cigarette and a cheeseburger, anyway)... and c'mon, it's the last day of my supposed de-stress vacation, and things have not gone exactly as planned thus far... so i cruised the only three guys at the bar promptly, picked which one i wanted... and the wrong one started talking to me first. he was nice, and sitting on the opposite side as the one i'd decided on, so in my attempt to be polite, i lost the attention of the one i wanted (who reminded me, in regional accent only, of my obsessoid biker boy, which was reason enough for me at that point)... and then ee called and wanted to take me back to the juice bar to the hotness of frankie. decisions, decisions... the bar was closing, and a little eavesdropping on the settling of tabs clued me in to how many martinis pseudo-biker boy had already consumed (i.e. too many for him to do me much good), so i took off. frankie was closing up when we got there, but he had his guitar, and so we sat on the boardwalk and listened to him play, with the tide behind us as background noise. and i felt bad for not looking him in the eye, but... i noticed almost immediately that he has the best hands EVER. and i am a SUCKER for great hands on a man. i forgot all about the guy in the bar. but then: ee needed some water, which was inexplicably nowhere to be found, so we took frankie up on a late night invite to his place, *after* we stopped, in a separate car, at her house. in between, ee's boy called, on his way home from work, and somehow it was determined that he had a hotter boy in his car, and would stop at my hotel room to meet up with us all and have a quick drink. this, my friends, is why i do not go out without my own transportation. i knew better than to trust the boy's judgement-- he claimed that while his friend was not as hot or talented as he himself was, they were both heads above frankie, both of which claims i doubted-- but alas, i was not in control of the destination, so off we went to my room, after promising frankie we'd call him back in 15 minutes. we even set up a code phrase for me to utter in case i decided against the coworker-- making me feel like i was in high school, yep-- and to make matters even more blunt, when they arrived, and ee looked through the peephole to make sure it was them before opening the door, she gave me a thumbs-down. but for some reason, we still dilly-dallied long enough that frankie was exhausted and on his way to bed by the time we called. alas. so i threw the whole crew out, and am lying here alone in my sexed-up bed, wondering how on earth i'm going to wake up in time for checkout, and what i'll do for the 6 hours between then and when my flight leaves. ee said "i'll come pick you up, and we'll go to the shooting range!," which was our one and only solid plan for the trip, but i know that's not going to happen. perhaps i'll stow my bags and sit by the pool and actually get a few minutes of sun, so that anyone will believe that i just spent a week in "miami."