Pool day did not disappoint. It’s my favorite day so far. I woke up to the smell of bacon cooking, which is always a good thing. It’s hard to have a bad day that starts with bacon and blue water. That was five pounds of luggage weight that was well worth it. I don’t know where in the hell the rest of the crew is going to get their bacon for the next six days.
I am always amazed at the amount of food stuff that is purchased, packed and hauled for our annual trip. Take taco shells. We brought freakin’ taco shells. Who does that? How is it that I can’t seem to get them home from HEB without them being pulverized, but Gina can haul them from Texas to the Caribbean and the edge of one has a little piece missing? It’s a mystery. We, and when I say we I mean Gina, baked ham and cheese sliders for lunch and brought everything from Texas, including the Hawaaian rolls. For the chicken fettuccine tonight, we only had to pick up the cream. We have crackers and snacks of every description, but if I find the person responsible for mixing the M&Ms and hot tamales, I am going to hurt them. I like both, but that’s just not right.
The time in the pool got funnier as the day wore on. It might have had something to do with the fact that every time I found Denise and Gina in the house they were doing a shot. They went in the house a lot. They tried to pull me in as a co-conspirator but I was having none of it. I still haven’t recovered from last year. And Judy, if you’re reading this, they totally threw you under the bus about feeding me shots last year. I want to hear your side of the story, but I suspect they are full of it.
We covered many topics, some of them not suitable for this forum. Call me if you want details. One of our discussions involved overweight suitcases and why Cheryl packs so many clothes. She dresses according to mood, which as you might suspect is hard to determine in advance. For instance, if she is feeling particularly bitchy she wears her “bitch clothes.” She didn’t really describe what bitch clothes look like, but I assume Keith knows and steers clear if she comes to get her first cup of coffee wearing those. Hell, I’d be changing clothes every fifteen minutes if I dressed according to mood. Plus, why tip Joe off? Let him find out the fun way.
About mid-afternoon we decided we needed to find the Wreck Bar where the mudslide originated. That particular frozen concoction is 100% alcohol and they find the idea of bastardizing the original with ice cream abhorrent. Kahlua was involved in last year’s debacle so I was emphatic that I wasn’t having one…so, I had two. I don’t know if it was the mudslides or the atmosphere, but best conch fritters ever. Joe forgot his good sunglasses so he wandered off to the gift shop next door to buy a cheap pair. As soon as he left I said, “He’s going to come back with a pair of Maui Jim’s.” He came back with a pair of Maui Jim’s AND a splash guard shirt. Flashback to Midland, packing and staring at six splash guard shirts with the tags still on them, “Don’t let me buy another damn splash guard. I buy one every year and I never wear them.” I’ll be posting a group of seven on eBay next week.
Back at the house it was homemade rum punch with a floater of dark rum on the top. I was having flashbacks to last year so I let mine be poured and just carried it around all night. Others didn’t follow my lead and I’ll just say, you have to watch out for those floaters…floaters and citric acid. One of our group, who shall remain nameless, blamed his shall we say happy state on citric acid. It wasn’t the half dozen different types of alcohol, it was the citric acid. You learn something new everyday. He then went around the table laying the blame on each and everyone of us. My favorite was, “It’s not you, it’s Keith.” We all laughed until we hurt. As one of the wise men of the group said, “You can’t buy this kind of fun, right here.” He’s right. Your soul feels lighter among friends, unless you’ve had too much citric acid.