MY DATE WITH A GIGOLO

It all started with my ad on craigslist.com, seeking new friends to show me around town. I got a response from “Mel”. (Names have been changed to protect the guilty.) It was about 10 paragraphs long and the funniest e-mail I could imagine. He talked about his “money back guarantee”, and promised me that he would treat me like a lady, and cited reasons that I should go out with him. Now, I’m thinking that this guy is just the funniest person I’ve ever corresponded with. I’m thinking this “money back guarantee” is a joke, right? Wrong! He thought he had sent me his business card with the e-mail but didn’t. When I saw the business card, some of the things he said made perfect sense, but still incredibly funny. So, I sent him a list of the top ten reasons I didn’t need to pay anyone for their company. Of course, number 1 was the fact that I was currently unemployed and broke. He responded with an e-mail challenging my top ten and wrote this: “First off, I'm not trying to badger you or cause you consternation. I'm not a weirdo stalker or anything. I just have a really bad case of "blabberfingers" (aka of a different era: blabbermouth) and an overactive sense of humor and imagination and I need to go out with you if only once for fifteen minutes.”This is just too much fun. Please can we hook up for an initial "in person" chat or something?. Is this going to be possible? Please say yes!!!” How could I refuse such earnest pleading? And what a personality!!! He was adorable in every way, so I had to say yes. The logistics were fairly complicated. He was going to sleep with me (on my blow up bed), when I asked him if his wife wouldn’t be expecting him to sleep in a hotel. “HOLY COW”, he said “of course - I didn’t even think of that – she’ll ask for the receipt”. (She keeps the books) So, he booked a room at the hotel just up the street. My day Friday was fraught with errands and unexpected delays. I had to get my nails done and the gal was slow as molasses. The post office is always crowded and I had to get to Publix to purchase a pass for the freeway. I’m in Publix and it’s 5:00. “Mel” was supposed to pick me up at 6:00 and I was still 30 minutes from home. Fortunately, he was late as well. I rushed home, threw on some make-up and a royal blue cocktail dress but didn’t have time to take out Ginger or put away the refrigerated/frozen groceries. So, he shows up and I give him his choice of chores – take out the dog or put away the groceries. When I told him that he had to pick up the poop with a plastic bag, he opted for the grocery detail. He had made reservations at a “surprise” restaurant for 7:00 and it was obvious we were going to be late, so he called and found it not to be a problem. We finally get in the car and he hands me a map and says I’ve got to navigate. OMG! We headed for downtown Miami and the directions had so many twists and turns I couldn’t keep up with it. Pretty soon, we’re on this seedy dirt road under the freeway. I said “I don’t want to die” and he reassures me that this is on the up and up. In a minute, we pull up to a building that’s a restaurant called “Big Fish”. Great name for a dive, right? We go in and all the tables are set with linens and crystal and we get a table right on the water/river – whatever you call it. It was beautiful. Candles were everywhere. Pretty soon a yacht about 60 feel pulled up and the beautiful people got out to eat in the restaurant. I must admit it was very “Miami Vice-ish”. We both ordered grouper, grilled with lemon butter. He doesn't eat vegetables, so he got a double portion of mashed potatoes (and he does triathalons!!!) and I got a double portion of asparagus and spinich. We each had the grouper. It was wonderful. The ambiance, the food, the company. I forgot to mention that he brought me a pair of flip flops that he sells to celebrities for $150 a pair. They are black and the top is covered with Swarovski crystals in gold. Incredibly gorgeous. One of the reasons they’re so expensive is that the flip flops are “havaianas” imported from Brazil. The rubber is especially conducive to the type of glue that’s used. As it turns out, not only is my foot the same size as Paris Hilton’s, I now have a pair of shoes identical to hers. (SEE BELOW)

So, we came back to my place and took Ginger out, I changed from heels into my rhinestone flip-flops, and we caught the bus, just a block from my condo. He was mortified!!! When we got on (I'm still in my blue cocktail dress) I say "Happy Friday" to everyone on the bus. Nobody looked particularly happy. We got off somewhere in SoBe and walked around for about an hour. (I guess I should have been writing the names of places down) Then we went to a jazz club that's supposed to be famous called Van Dykes. We ordered one drink each and the freakin’ bill was $55!!!! I was floored. That’s worse than the two martinis at the Ritz Carlton for $36! Come to find out, there’s a cover charge that’s automatically put on the bill. We should have stayed the whole night for that price!!! We walked around some more but after 2 a.m., no one over the age of 30 was out and about. I, of course, was tipsy and took a picture of a temperature sign on the top of some famous building, and kept cautioning Mel that we couldn’t cross the street if the hand was orange. We laughed and joked and had the best time. I would point out things in the store windows and guess how much it cost. He knew the real cost of most things, like designer dresses and purses. I must have given him a jaw-dropped look every time. I guess the stores wouldn’t be in business if people weren’t buying there. Unreal. Since it was 3 a.m. when we started home, he insisted on catching a cab. I don’t think the bus is going to be a mode of transportation for him. We hugged good night and I hit the sack. I had a lunch date the next day and needed my rest for sure!!! He was sweet, intelligent, considerate, and held my hand the whole evening. It was really appreciated when I wore my heels, as well as walking on uneven pavement in the dark in new flip flops. He was a perfect gentleman in every way and I enjoyed every single minute. I’m sure you have pictured some Italian guy with grease slicked hair and a seedy smile. Here’s “Mel”:

My Boating Adventure

I was invited on a friend's boat for the week-end. Of course, I can't say what kind of boat, the name of the boat, where or when we went, nor the name of the Captain. Nor can I share many pictures. But, Ginger and I had a great time. She wore her life vest like a good girl:

The boat was beautiful, as was the weather. We had a "Plan B", in case the weather turned yucky but it didn't. The first night, we ate cheese, crackers, fruit and drank a bottle of Santa Marguerita. I slept like a baby, with the gentle rocking of the boat. Of course, Ginger slept in my arms.

She was pretty well behaved, for the most part. We all climbed into the dinghy for her "bathroom breaks" and to get a little exercise. She sat between the Captain and me and was totally happy until someone went down below for something. Then, she had to tag along. On Saturday, we went to a restaurant at a boutique hotel on the water and took Ginger. It was fairly rough, so climbing in and out of the dinghy was a bit of a challenge, but not insurmountable. I ordered a turkey sandwich that was so incredibly delicious. The bread was full of nuts and the sandwich had thinly slice roasted red pepper and cucumber on it, with stone ground mustard. That, a bottle of San Pellegrino, good company and the view all combined to make it a very memorable lunch. This is Ginger in her place on the bridge:

The view the second night was just gorgeous:

Of course, I can't tell you what it is a view OF.

The captain cooked dinner and wouldn't let me do anything, other than toss the salad. After spending the entire day on the water, bedtime came early. Breakfast consisted of whole wheat english muffins, yogurt and fruit. My favorite!

When I got back to my car, there were parking violation notices everywhere. I'm lucky it didn't get towed away. Overnight parking wasn't allowed. Oops. I got home early enough to be able to unpack, do laundry and get my wardrobe ready for the week ahead.

The Blondes Take Over Miami

I HAD BEEN BEGGING DORIS to please come down and spend some time with me. We always have such a good time together, so she said "why not?" and showed up on Thursday afternoon, along with her pug (of 14 years), Miss B.

We went to Haulover Beach on Friday, which is the nude beach. I had never been to a nude beach before. When we got to the parking area, we were amazed at how many parking spaces were available. A mom with a little boy came up to us and asked if we knew if there was anything to eat on the beach. Doris answers "did you know that this is a nude beach?". The lady then points to a busload of orthodox Jews entering the tunnel to the beach. We figured we might have the wrong entrance, so we went to another parking area. After asking the attendant if this was the nude beach, we were assured that we were in the right place.

We took our chairs and proceeded to the beach. Not everyone was naked. Just 98% of the people! I had been talking with an attorney, who's name was Newton, but he went by Newt. He had agreed to "show us the ropes" and told us where he would be. We trudge what seemed like miles to the southernmost fence where he said he would meet us. Now all I knew about the guy is that he was very tan (head to toe), had a great body (worked out a lot), a short white beard and a big Nelson, as I had seen his picture. He is 52. We set our chairs in the sand near the water and proceeded to rip off our sundresses. We of course had nothing underneath. Doris had spent plenty of time naked, as she is a nudist. I had not. Once I took off my dress, I was as embarassed as I could possibly be. I decided that it couldn't get any worse. Wrong!!!

After I was settled and opened my eyes, I realize that we are about twenty feet from the beach where people go that have bathing suits on. Thus, not only was I been seen by naked people, I was being seen by clothed people as well. We looked around and saw several guys that could have been Newt. I spotted one just down the beach and said loudly "Newt". Doris slapped me on the hand and says "you sound like you're saying NUDE - not NEWT. Damn.

There was absolutely NO way I was going to get up and go up to guys to ask them if they were Newt. So, I turn to Doris and say "go over there and ask that guy if he's Newt". She refuses several times, but when I tell her she's not getting any water until she finds Newt, she relents. She goes up to the first guy and says "are you an attorney?". "Why - do you need one?" says the guy. Turns out not to be Newt. The next guy she asks knows Newt but says he isn't there. No problem.

Doris gets a call from a guy I gave her number to so he could ask her out. Confusing? I'm her pimp. I get dates for her. She hasn't had much luck lately, so I'm helping her out. He says he's in Ft. Lauderdale but is coming to Haulover to meet her. For the first time! Nude. Well, he shows up and they're lying on towels, talking when I get a phone call from Newt. He tells me that he's sorry he missed us then proceeds to tell me he's married. No problem - he was just going to be a "nude beach mentor" anyway, I really didn't care. Then he tells me he's only been married for a year!!! Red flags are flying, horns are blaring and I proceed to rip into him. He had even asked if I wanted to be his FB, which I didn't, and he's only been married a YEAR??? His name is Newton St. John and he's a nudist attorney, just in case his wife OF ONE YEAR reads this blog.

It gets worse...

A few minutes later, I realize that my phone is flashing. "YOU HAVE MAIL". I check my messages and Newt had left this message: "Sorry I missed you today. I didn't see anyone that looked like you and Doris. The only women I saw who were alone were two old ladies". The nerve!!!

WE WERE THE ONLY TWO FEMALES TOGETHER ON THE WHOLE BEACH!!! HE WAS TALKING ABOUT US!!!!!!!!!!! So, we spent the next hour deciding his fate - would it be scalding hot or ice cold water??? Or acid? Diabolical plots ran rampant.

That night we went to Barchetta by the Bay for dinner. We tried to find a Latin club I had heard about but never did. We took the girls out and had a slumber party until 2 am. Saturday, we had planned to go back to Haulover, but the parking lot was full. So - we instituted "Plan b" - Hollywood Beach. We sat with Vito, an adorable 85 year old Italian man and visited with all the "regulars". Monroe, the ice cream magnate, was celebrating his 80th birthday. Everyone had chipped in and hired a lane to f ly a banner over the beach that said "Happy 80th Birthday Monroe". He was just thrilled and there was champagne and cake for everyone. It was a fun day and we picked up Pollo Tropicale chicken dinners and headed home.

Sunday, we headed to the Miami Beach Marina for lunch at Monte's. We then caught a bus to downtown South Beach. We went in several stores, walked by the outside cafes and had a great time. Before we knew it, it was time to head out - I had a date at 5. Here are the pictures we took in SoBe:

Christmas in Hollywood a/k/a "Girls Gone Wild"

DO YA THINK WE WERE HAVING FUN YET??????? NARRATIVE FOLLOWS THESE HILARIOUS PICTURES.

The request has been made to change the names to protect the guilty. So, I will comply. My friends, Doris and Kim, (not their real names) and I had decided to go down to Hollywood Beach for the Candy Cane Christmas Parade. (That “Doris” and I had missed the week-end before) We met at my house, and after a mad rush, we had dropped Ginger off at the pet resort and were on our way to south Florida. I had never met “Kim” but Doris had told me what fun she was. Well, all the way down, we talked about our lives, our experiences, our sexuality and our men (and women). Within a couple of hours, we had bonded and felt like we had been friends for years. We got to the motel and were able to check in right away, although we were early. I grabbed my beach towel, beach bag and chair and waited by the car. The girls were still in the room, so I went up to see what was keeping them. “We can’t find our lip gloss” they exclaimed. Not to worry, I assured them – I had plenty. When we got to the beach, I passed around my lip gloss collection and we each picked a color or a sparkle gloss. Still, we are laughing, talking and joking about everything. We wondered when Fernando was going to show up. Sure enough, after about two hours, here comes Fernando. He sits down (and we are certain that he wants to take the three of us to bed) when we decide “Oops – it’s cocktail time”. We say “Ciao” to Fernando and head for Ocean Alley, the restaurant and bar where Doris and I had come to feel so at home. “Our” seats were taken when we got there, so we proceeded to sit at the outside bar stools. Before long, one of the “regulars” welcomed us and reminded us that the outside chairs were “their” domain. We relinquished them for a while but got them back when everyone decided to stand up. What a great bunch of people. I sure as Hell can’t remember many names, so the names I will use from here on out may be real and they may not. We got real “chummy” with them. We were now considered “locals”, since we had been there two week-ends in a row and were just “good” people, according to them. We reconnected with the ice cream magnate (whose brand we had never heard of), the singer (who was fabulous), the bartenders, and the local people who were there every week-end. They invited us to be a part of their group. From swingers, to retirees - everyone was there and a fabulous time was had by all!!!

Begging for Help

As I was sitting on the living room floor, eating Hershey’s kisses, I realized that I needed help. NOT psychological, but physical. Surrounded by unpacked boxes, I did the only thing I could think of – I called Barb in Atlanta and begged for help. Fortunately, she was able to get on a plane within a couple of days and come to my rescue. Now Barb is my best friend from high school. We go a looonnnnggggg way back! What’s great about our friendship is that we are always able to pick up where we left off – even if we haven’t talked for YEARS. We couldn’t possibly be more opposite – she wears black, I wear bright colors. She smokes, I don’t. I drink, she doesn’t. She’s conservative, I’m bodacious. Yet, we have always gotten along. Go figure. She got here on Sunday and on Monday morning, she had me unpacking boxes, throwing away trash, shoving stuff into drawers and closets, and making room where there was none. Here is a “before” pic:

Fortunately, we found time to have a little fun. We went to Monte's, a restaurant at the Miami Beach Marina for oysters and took a walk along the docks. Unbelievable boats, yachts, cigarette boats, sailboats. Quite a lot of boats. We had lunch one day with my friend, Ed at Giorgio's on the Intracoastal and, of course, at at my neighborhood hangout, Barchetta on the Bay. We really had a good time, although Barb worked my fingers to the bone most of the time. The weather couldn't have been more perfect - sunny and warm almost every day. And to think when Barb left Atlanta, it was snowing!!!!

Here are some "after" pictures:

My New Digs

At the suggestion insistence of a certain family member (Charlene) that I continue my blog, here I am. It is not the first day of my new adventure, but my second. Being the positive person that I am, I am thankful that the movers were done before two o’clock. AM. It would have been nice if the service elevator was on my end of the building, but it’s not. It is on the opposite end of a very long building. I am also thankful that my makeup it is lost. I’ve always wanted to experiment with going without makeup and I am sure that it is good for my complexion. I am thankful that Ginger decided to run away from home yesterday morning. It tired her out so much that she was not in my way at all today. Yes, you can almost see me running through the neighborhood behind this little devil bitch, calling her name. If she had fingers, they would have been in her ears while she sang “la la la la la la la” as I was desperately trying to get her attention. She pretended that she couldn’t hear me and continued along her way merrily sniffing every blade of grass, relishing her freedom. Of course, I came within inches of her and she took off like a rocket. Maybe that’s one of the reasons my feet ache so badly. I supposed I have been spoiled by having a fenced in back yard. It seems that when Ginger goes out to poop that she has to find the perfect blade of grass to grace with the presence of her queenly shit. Also, if she sees another dog, she must immediately assert herself as commander of the universe who gives her permission for another dog to pass by. The bigger the dog – the more uncivil her disposition. She even screws up her face into this horrible grimace. Where is the cute little angel that thought I had? Today, I decided to take out a huge load of garbage (in a large box) . I put the box on a tablecloth and dragged it downstairs to the parking garage. Then, I took my little handcart to the car to unload the stereo and speakers that is on top of everything else. (Thus, I can move nothing from the car into the condo until I get the stereo unloaded) One of the speakers fell on the top of my foot and sliced me nicely. That’s okay – the bandage matches the one on my ankle where I fell and scraped all the skin off. Another wonderfully positive thing I learned is that material possessions multiply when you are not looking. If only I could prove it – I knew I should have counted boxes. There will be more tomorrow. Of that I am certain. The patio set that I got at Walmart wasn’t too difficult to put together. It was certainly easier than listening to a man swear about how those freakin’ Chinese can’t write English. I actually found the directions pretty easy to follow. And to think all these years, men have led me to believe that it was so complicated. It must be some game they play on women. OK, so the screws aren’t all the way in – I have fingernails to protect and tender fingers. Once I put the little rubber cap on them and hammered them on, it was a done deal. No wobble. Hooray for me! It is dark and time for bed. I am looking out of my glass doors and all I see is lights and their reflection on the water.

There is a certain sound that omnipresent. It is hard to explain, but it is like a kind of energy that is always there. You can always hear an airplane, or cars or boats. It is never quiet. That’s not a good thing or a bad thing – only an impression. I have never lived anywhere where there is a constant noise. Thankfully I have my stereo to listen to before I go to sleep. Of course, it’s not hooked up yet but it doesn’t matter. Sleep will come easily tonight. Fortunately. I found the energy to put clean sheets on the bed. Last night we slept on the comforter under the blanket –no sheets. Ginger has had a bath and it is time to give her a treat and put my little family to bed. I’ve agreed to meet Lou and Sandy for breakfast at 10:30 tomorrow morning. Now if I can just find some makeup. Buenos nochas!

The Girls Get Outta Dodge

For the week-end. I took Ginger to the Paradise Pet Resort at 7:00 Friday morning and was able to get off a little early from work. My friend, Lou, met me at my house and we took my truck to Hollywood Beach for a little “R & R”. We both had a burning desire for one last “beach week-end” before cool weather set in. We were going to attend the Christmas parade on Saturday night that was going to be held on the boardwalk on Hollywood Beach. We had great fun laughing and talking during the 2 -1/2 hour trip and getting to know one another better. We talked about everything and anything. Especially men and sex, sex and men, and the ups and downs of being a woman. The trip went so fast, we were at the motel in no time. Our room had a full kitchen with a microwave and two beds. No view until you went out on the balcony and we could hear the ocean. Since we had tuckered each out with so much talking and laughing, we had a couple of glasses of wine and hit the sack early.

The next morning, we strolled down the boardwalk and had an iced coffee at an outside table at the Ocean Alley Grill and the sea air made us hungry, so we ordered a big breakfast.

This is about when we find out that the Christmas parade isn’t this week-end, it’s the next week-end. After breakfast, we went back to the motel and made reservations for the following Saturday night. Then we went to the truck and got our chairs and beach bags, set them up on the beach and proceeded to go for a brisk three mile walk. (Of course, talking and laughing all the way) There are lifeguard stations about every hundred yards or so. There were lots and lots of baby Portugese Man o’Wars washed up on the beach and I was curious as to what remedy the lifeguards used, so we went up to one station to ask. There was this huge black guy inside and I asked him what they used for jellyfish stings. His answer was “binegot”. “Binegot”, I asked? “No”, he said – “Binegot”. So, I asked Lou what he was saying. “Binegot” she says. “What the Hell is Binegot, anyway” I said. He points to a spray bottle and says “Binegot”. I was so frustrated, I asked him if he was speaking English. “Yes”, he said. So I said “I don’t know what the Hell you’re saying – can you spell it?” I ask. So he spells it. “B.I.N.E.G.A.R.” Finally, it hits us about the same time. He’s from the islands and prounounces a “V” like a “B”. It was vinegar!!!!!!!! So, here we are, laughing hysterically down the beach. Pretty soon, my ankle starts stinging and I realize that I must have brushed up against a Man o’War tentacle. I scrub it with sand but it still stings, so we go up to the next lifeguard stand and ask for a squirt of vinegar, which instantly relieves the sting. (We dared not ask for “Binegot”) Then we realize, here we are – two old ladies going up to every lifeguard station to talk to the lifeguards. That got us to laughing again. Back to our chairs and we sit and enjoy the cloudless day and the sun beating down on us. We had bought a paper at breakfast and I ran across a unisex hair salon that was only a couple of blocks away. I decided that I wanted to get my hair cut, so I called and made an appointment. I walked down the street and found it right away, but it was a barber shop. What the Hell, I thought – I’ve got short hair. I actually got a really good haircut for $20, including the tip. Back to the beach. Now, it’s 4:30. Rapidly approaching cocktail hour. I suggested that we dress and hit the bar. Now “dressing” involved slipping on a miniskirt and flip-flops. Off to the bar we went. I had a martini and Lou had a beer. Great martini – they served it “up” like I like it, but put a teeny pitcher in a cup of ice and poured a little in the glass and set the pitcher in the ice so the martini would stay cold. Great idea. We people watched and talked to some people in the bar and pretty soon it was time to dress for dinner. Lou wore a black dress with a sheer scarf over it and I wore black leggings and an aqua tunic. We both wore heels. She was about 5’9” in heels and I was 6’2”. By the time we left the motel, it was 7:30. I had wanted to stay on the beach for dinner, but Lou wanted to go downtown. She was willing to drive, so I said OK. We dropped the truck at a valet parking area and set out to find a place to have dinner. We both love ethnic food and we had seen a Mediterranean tapas style restaurant and decided to eat there. There were no tables because there was a show that night but the hostess seated us at the bar. We, ordered an escargot dish and a salad platter and the “house special” sangria. Sweet but yummy. Dinner was great and we saw two performances of the show, which was Spanish singing and dancing. One of the waiters was constantly winking at both of us, so we flirted outrageously back. There were two really good looking tall (but 20 years younger) guys at the end of the bar that Lou had her eyes on. (She likes ‘em at least 10 years younger but has a “thing” for Latin men) When I got up to go to the bathroom, I realized that one of the guys was just coming out of the bathroom. “You’re a tall drink of water” he said. I couldn’t think of a single comeback. All I could think of was “And?”, which is what I said. I think it threw him off guard, which wasn’t a bad thing. Lou was looking for a dance partner all evening and I wanted to help her find one but I don’t think that was the way to go about it.

After dinner, Lou wanted to dance, so we went to this bar called “Silver”. We walked in and stood in front of the hostess stand. “That’s ten dollars apiece” she says. Lou and I look at each other, turn around and walk out without another word. We get to the sidewalk and a waitress grabs us and says “you don’t have to pay, come in as my guest”, so in we went via another door. We sit down at a table and a waiter comes over and says “you can’t sit here”. We ask why and he explains that the table is reserved for people who order off the “bottle menu”. So, we look at the bottle menu and see that you order a bottle of liquor for $125 or more and you get free setups and get to sit at this table. So he says “You’ll have to move”. I, of course, get my panties in a wad and ask just where it is that we are supposed to sit. He gestures over to the other side of the bar and says “somewhere over there”. I then informed him that he should escort us to a table where we are allowed to sit. So, he does. However, we elect to sit at the bar. Pretty soon, two pretty young things in skimpy clothes are helped up on the bar and start to dance in a very provocative manner. After an hour, no one has asked Lou to dance, so we leave. It’s now around midnight. She says “c’mon – I know a place you’ll love”. So we proceed to a French bakery called “Chocolata”. She makes me eat a piece of wonderful pastry. I don’t know what it was other than it melted in my mouth and made me hungry for more. Pretty soon, a guy sets up some speakers, picks up a guitar, and starts singing outside the bakery. He’s really, really good, so we sit there for a few minutes when a waitress comes over and says “you can’t sit here”. I’m like “what the f_ _k???” but didn’t say it. She says “you have to order something to sit here”. OK fine. I order a fruit plate. “That’s not enough” she says. “What do you mean that’s not enough?” I say. She says “you both have to order something”. “Fine” I said “bring us each a fruit plate, then”. Lou and I each had a bottle of water with us and I expected her to tell us that we couldn’t drink them there. As a matter of fact, I almost dared her to say it. She didn’t. We sat for about an hour and listened to this guy, Reuben, play the guitar and sing. He was really good and we enjoyed it immensely. We got back to the motel around 1:30. I fell into bed and Lou talked to a girlfriend on the phone until 3 in the morning. (I found out later) We woke up around 9 on Sunday morning and proceeded to go back to the Ocean Alley Grill for breakfast. We were both starving and my legs hurt from spending the whole night in high heels. Coincidentally, we sat in the same chairs at the bar where we sat the night before for cocktails. Several people, apparently regulars, stopped by and remarked “are you girls still here?”. It was a fun atmosphere and where we sat was perfect for people watching, which is what we both like to do. We struck up several conversations and felt like one of the regulars. After breakfast, we packed up the car and headed to the beach. I still hadn’t finished my Clive Cussler book, so Lou went walking by herself. She’s such a “man magnet” that I totally expected her to come walking back with some guy, but she didn’t. I was reading my book and enjoying sitting on the beach when I heard Lou say “oh my” under her breath. All of a sudden, the shadow of a man comes over me and this guy is saying “hello” to Lou. I thought she knew him at first. He introduces himself to both of us and asks if he could sit down. Now, I thought he was black because I could only see his silouette, but when he started talking, I realized he was Latin American, which is the kind of guy that Lou goes “gaga” for. She is convinced that she has some Latin blood in her somewhere. She loves the culture, the people, the dances. And the men. As I’m looking (ok, not “looking” – LUSTING) at this man’s silhouette, I realize that he’s built and buff. He’s also very dark from being in the sun. He proceeds to tell us both how beautiful we are and how he loves American women – especially women over 45. He goes on to tell us that he is from Costa Rica, works out every day, eats healthy and doesn’t smoke, do drugs or drink much of anything except wine. This gorgeous hunk of masculinity was selling himself to us. And we’re drinking it in. He was not only gorgeous to look at, he was personable, affable and likeable. I was stunned that he would pick us out to talk to. So, he sits down in the sand at our feet. He asks if we are friends or sisters and we both responded “sisters”. Neither one of us knows why, buy we did. Now, I knew that Lou loved Latin men. I have a hard time conversing with someone who speaks broken English, so I buried my nose in my book. Pretty soon, he’s rubbing both our legs and trying to keep me engaged in conversation. I whipped out my lip gloss and handed it to Lou as if to say “he’s all yours, girlfriend”. How two women can communicate with something as simple as that is beyond my comprehension, but it happened. As it turns out, his first name is Louis and Lou’s is Louisa. Ahhhh – things in common!! The name he goes by is Fernando. (All I can think about is Fernando the bull) Lou brings out her (non-digital) camera and asks me to snap a couple of pictures. I realize that there is real film in the camera and suggest that I go up to the truck and get my digital camera. When I come back, she is snuggled up with him and I take a few pictures. Still trying to keep my attention, he asks about our marital status. “I have a boyfriend”, I say before my mouth can shut itself up. I do NOT know where that came from, but I wanted to make sure that Lou got his full attention. I could tell that she didn’t want to keep her hands off him. Then I say “why don’t you two go in the water and cool off?” Lou shoots me the “I hate you” look, but accompanies him down and into the water. Pretty soon, they’re kissing and Lou has her legs wrapped around his waist. (Yes-s-s-s-s-s I say to myself). We had to leave by 1:00, so the total time she spent with him was maybe an hour. They exchanged phone numbers, he helped us pack up the stuff from the beach and walked us to the truck. I slipped inside the truck and witnessed their parting kiss. Hot stuff allright! All the way home we talked about Fernando. He is going to be our date next week-end at the Candy Cane parade. Then, Lou is going to go home with him. If she doesn’t, I’ll never speak to her again.