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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 18:21:42 GMT -6
So, there I am absorbing an unhealthy amount of UV rays at Hedo wondering what to do about TNMC's Message Board. What could I possibly do in order to commemorate my 10,000th post? Should I do nothing? IOW, should I simply just login, make an inconsequential post somewhere and that's that, not call any special attention to it? Well, certainly, I could do that, but then it would be somewhat selfish -- I'd be hijacking someone else's thread to mark my milestone. Should I commemorate it by starting a thread announcing my "accomplishment"? Too self-aggrandizing. Should I simply stay at 9999 and continue posting without ever logging in again? Well, certainly, I *could* do that -- and HAVE been doing that for the past few weeks -- but, it could get old, if it hasn't already. Instead, I decided to do something new -- well, at least new for me, anyway. I've decided to post something of a Trip Report of sorts (which I've never done) and if I can manage it, some photos from my Hedo trip at New Year's (which I never do). OK, well, maybe this isn't such a big deal because plenty of folks have posted photos from their digital camera in the past and goodness knows we have a sufficient number of Trip Reports. However, as I said, it's something *I've* never done before -- especially not on this board -- so, I figured I'd give it a shot for the sake of reaching Post # 10K. Rather than make this report one long post, I’ll break it down into several, adding installments as I have the time to write them, so perhaps we can wind up making it a bit of an interactive Trip Report as well; this past weekend, I wanted to commit as much of it to writing while the entire experience was still fresh in my memory. Let 'er rip ... Lessons From Yusef
My Hedonism II Vacation For New Year's Eve 2007 Preface: My first vacation at Hedonism II was in July 1988; since 1997, I have been going there specifically for the New Year's Eve celebration. In one sense, I suppose it seems a bit odd for a lifelong New Yorker to make a tradition of going there for New Year's Eve since so many people think of celebrating that occasion right here in my home town, at Times Square, to watch the countdown to midnight. In true native New Yorker fashion, I have never done this -- nor have I ever been to the Statue of Liberty or the top of the Empire State Building. I started going to Hedo for NYE when the travel agent I was trying to book with at the time suggested it -- she was going there with her boyfriend at the time and having done it in the past highly recommended I go. A decade later, I continue to book all of my Hedonism trips through her. Being big on the loyalty thing, I have been with this particular travel agent ever since – in the course of booking my trips during this period, she has also shared such personal information with me as the marrying her aforementioned boyfriend and having two children with him. I’m convinced that his may be the closest I'll ever come to a long-term relationship with any woman. Without a doubt, my best New Year's trip ever came in 2003. That was the year I met someone whom you may know on this message board by the name of "vbplyr", my good friend to this very day. A wonderful single gal who took an enormous leap of faith with this Dreaded Single Male on New Year's Eve of 2003, she struck up a conversation with me at the main bar that evening when I had nowhere to sit and eat my yummy-delicious grilled lobster tails, and we have been buddies since. Sadly, she was unable to make it to Hedo to celebrate New Year's 2007 with me, so because of that, I am dedicating this Trip Report to her, in the hope that she will be able to make it back in 2008. Day 1 - Dec. 26: The Joy -- And Embarrassment -- Of An Empty BladderFor the most part, my flight to Montego Bay via Air Jamaica Flight # 10 from JFK was uneventful -- that alone should've been a portent of things to come. But of course, I'm getting far too ahead of myself. Flying 1st Class (or Business Class, as I guess they're calling it on AJ these days), they serve unlimited amounts of champagne, even on an 8AM flight such as this one. Good for me, but too bad for the poor flight attendants. After getting extremely over-served on the bubbly, I arrived at the MBJ airport figuring I'd quickly run to the little boy's room to powder my nose before going through Immigration -- not so fast, as I soon learned. Given that this was my first experience with the newly renovated airport, I was not quite ready for the long maze I would have to wend my way through before reaching a public bathroom. So long was the walk that my bladder betrayed me before I could reach The Promised Land. After going through Immigration with all due shame and picking up my luggage at the carousel while feeling a bit soggy, I headed straight to Customs. "Do you have anything to declare?", the stern looking woman said, glaring directly at me. "Yes", I said sheepishly, "I've just pissed my pants". "I see ... ", she responded, "And do you plan on leaving those pants in Jamaica?". "No, ma'am, I plan on wearing them on the flight home, assuming they're dry by then". "OK", she exclaimed, "In that case, you can go". Normally, I would've been relieved at that point, but seeing as how I'd already relieved myself, it seemed redundant, so I headed directly to the SuperClubs area and within 15 minutes, boarded a bus to the resort. Upon check-in, I'm still a little spooked by the reports I'd been hearing about break-ins at the hotel's rooms. When assigned a ground floor room, I politely request one on the 2nd floor, if available. Big mistake. First of all, from a location standpoint, it was undesirable -- in room # 1258, I was almost off the property entirely. I was so far over that if I opened my window and stuck my arm out, I could shake hands with the folks at Sandals. Another problem was the A/C -- not only was it not working properly, but it was leaking, too. A big puddle on the floor stretching from the A/C to the other side of the bed! I reported this to Housekeeping -- the A/C never got fixed, but at least they knew to mop the floor every day and keep a fresh towel under the A/C unit daily to try to catch the leakage. Additionally, the hair dryer mounted on the bathroom wall didn't work -- fortunately, I brought the compact travel-size one I use at my gym, so that wasn't a huge problem. The other odd thing was that I noticed the couple next door to me must've been swingers because they posted a couple of signs on their door advertising for like-minded couples (in addition to decorating their doorway with blinking Christmas tree lights). I see this and ask myself who in the world is going to pass by to see all of this, given the location of the room? I mean, we're on the 2nd floor, at the end of the floor, all the way over towards the far end of the grounds. Clearly, they must've been inviting me and only me. At the risk of giving away the ending of my story, I'll tell you right now that I passed. After getting settled in my room, I venture out towards the bar, where I run into Anna, who not only greets me with a "Welcome Home!" exclamation and hug, but also remembers my name. Anna, you see, was indirectly introduced to me by Mrs. Sunlovers last year; I ran into Anna when heading to my room last year when she called my name and said that Mrs. Sunlovers had phoned her to say hello and also to wish me a Happy New Year during my Hedo stay. She described me to Anna and miraculously, Anna immediately knew who I was ("Oh!", she replied to Mrs. Sunlovers after hearing her description, "You mean the big guy with eyeglasses who sits on the beach and reads all week without ever talking to anyone? Yes, I know EXACTLY who he is!"). This being my travel day, I kept it short and crashed early because I was so tired: went to dinner immediately at 7:30, had a couple of drinks, then went straight to bed, where I could get a good night's sleep to begin my vacation well-rested the next morning.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 18:23:12 GMT -6
Day 2 - Dec. 27: My 1st NBH ... EVER
The weather was a little disappointing -- despite brilliant sunshine in the morning, dark clouds rolled in around lunchtime and a torrential rain fell from 1:30 to shortly after 3PM. But it would turn out that today would not be an altogether lost day.
Late morning, while the weather was still good and the sun blisteringly hot, I decided to cool off by stepping into the pool. Carrying my book in one hand and hovering my other hand above the water so as not to get my wristwatch wet, I apparently looked as though I was chilled by the water temperature. Noticing this, a woman calls to me, "You look like you're freezing! Here -- let me warm you up!". She runs over to me (as much as one can run, considering we're both in the pool at this point), presses her body against mine and wraps her arms tightly around my torso. Not used to being the recipient of such displays of affection (and especially not at Hedo), I stood there in the middle of the pool a bit embarrassed, feeling the glare of many eyes upon me. "How's that?", the woman asked. "I'm going to give you exactly seven days to stop doing that!", I responded. In all of the years that I've been traveling to Hedo, this was without a doubt my first Naked Booby Hug. Finally, I understood the appeal.
Although we had never been introduced previously, this woman was familiar to me. As many of you know, if you travel to Hedo the same time every year, you often run into familiar faces every trip. I immediately recognized her as a New Year's veteran and apparently, she recognized me as the same -- the only exception being that this year, for the first time, we would actually speak to each other and be officially introduced.
This was Cathy -- a woman I would come to call Chatty Cathy -- from Vancouver, Canada; she and her husband Kim visit Hedo every year for New Year's as well as every June with The Fluffernutters, sometimes overlapping with Denny's Summer WWW group. They travel a long time in order to reach Hedo; it takes 24 hours and 3 planes -- Vancouver to Seattle; Seattle to Florida; Florida to Jamaica. Because of this, they usually book two weeks for each trip. I called her Chatty Cathy for obvious reasons -- she's outgoing, friendly and exhibits an admirable energy and enthusiasm while at Hedo. But if I were forced to pick one word to describe her, it would be "peripatetic" -- as much as she appears to enjoy chatting with you, she's quickly off to start another conversation with others. She reminds you of a kid diagnosed with ADD who forgot to take her Ritalin.
During our introductory conversation, she asked me a rather curious question: "Have you seen Champagne Bob?" It's funny -- although I had never actually been introduced to someone named Champagne Bob, I knew *exactly* who she was referring to, because we were both Hedo New Year's veterans.
Since I started coming to Hedo for New Year's in '97, there has always been a friendly face to greet me; a man with silver hair who speaks fluent Italian (though his native language is American English) and wears a tuxedo every New Year's Eve. This was a guy I've long called Elegant Bob for those very reasons (I'd never been introduced to him before, but I once heard him introduce himself to someone else as Bob, so that's how I picked up his name). In addition to wearing his tux on New Year's, he's always seen carrying a bottle of champagne in each hand, along with a pair of glasses for each bottle; that was why Chatty Cathy called him Champagne Bob -- and after learning this was his official nickname, so did I. Champagne Bob has been coming to Hedo for New Year's longer than me -- he started in 1991 and has been there every year ... *except* last year and his absence was conspicuous ... not only to me, apparently, but to Chatty Cathy and a few other regulars as well. Anyway, I replied to her question of his whereabouts by informing her that I had not yet seen him but hoped that he would show. Forget Guy Lombardo, Champagne Bob is Hedo's Mr. New Year's Eve -- a dapper and debonair looking gentleman, he reminds you of Cary Grant in his later years (OK, let's get past the fact that Cary Grant was gay -- that wasn't the comparison I was trying to make. Get a grip here, people).
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 18:24:21 GMT -6
Day 3 - Dec. 28: The Return Of The Legendary Champagne Bob (But Not Without Some Ignominy)
By now, I would come to learn that on this trip, 4PM meant something other than the 30-minute countdown to jerk chicken: it meant Show Time at the hot tub.
This year, I decided to ch-ch-change the location of my lounge chair. In years passed, I'd pick a chair in the back of the beach strategically positioned between the grill and Delroy's. For 2007, I decided it would be different; instead, I would sit on a chair in that patch of grass next to the towel cabinet -- behind the hot tub, but in front of the hammocks. This, I decided, would be a good location for several reasons: one, better trajectory for the sun (at Hedo, I'm a man with a plan to work on his tan, dammit!); two, it's a short work to the soda machine; and three, I'm close to the men's room, just in case Uncle Daddy needs to make boom-boom right quick.
Mid-afternoon, who shows up but The Legendary Champagne Bob himself! Cheerily greeted by Chatty Cathy, she goes around announcing his arrival to anyone who will listen (as well as to some who won't), introducing him to Hedo first-timers (or at least, those that are here for the first time on New Year's). Later in the afternoon, the hot tub show to which I alluded begins and few are holding back. One couple decides to get out of the tub and hop onto the chair to my immediate right to reach their denouement. It is at this particular moment that Champagne Bob decides to visit the men's bathroom -- and in doing so, he spots me, next to the amorous couple. While the two are going at it, Champagne Bob enthusiastically greets me and we begin chatting; it turns out the reason for his absence last year was due to a clerical error on Hedo's part. As he does every year, Champagne Bob booked his trip in early August directly with the hotel by faxing his reservation to the office. But as the time rolled around in mid-December 2006, he contacted them and they said that they never got his fax; he then frantically tried to book a New Year's reservation with them, but by that time, they were completely full for that period and could not accommodate him.
Now, you have to keep something in mind here: all of the while that Champagne Bob and I are talking and he's relating this story to me, the couple to my right are making mad, passionate and very LOUD love. Champagne Bob and I are doing our best to ignore this distraction by adjusting the volume of our voices as needed. Towards the end of Champagne Bob's story, as if on cue, the couple finish with the man letting out an extremely loud orgasmic moan which sounded more like someone had just sliced through his Achilles tendon while he was trying to run the hundred yard dash. That over, Champagne Bob and I said how nice it was to see each other again and with that, he was on his way. If I smoked, this would've been the perfect time for a cigarette.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 18:25:18 GMT -6
Day 4 - Dec. 29: The Patriots Score (And So Do Some Hedo Guests)
Today in the pool, Champagne Bob and I gave Chatty Cathy a massage while she floated on a raft -- Bob took her shoulders while I was assigned her feet. Once she pointed out the spot on the ball of her foot that really put her in the zone, I began focusing on that area and she seemed to fall into a trance -- in all of the years I've seen Chatty Cathy at Hedo, this was without a doubt the longest period of time I've ever seen her this stationary.
But before Cathy had settled down into her comfortably numb state, she played her part of social director by introducing me to a bunch of folks who were spending their first New Year's at Hedo. What was particularly delightful about this was the fact that I was introduced to several single women -- both a treat and a rarity! One of the single women to whom I was introduced was another Kathy (one with a 'K', as you can see) -- Wicked Kathy from Alabama. Beginning that evening, and throughout the course of the week, I would learn why she gave herself the nickname Wicked Kathy.
That night after a late dinner, I went to the piano bar. This being Saturday, the Patriots-Giants game was being shown on the big screen projection TV there; by now, it was the 4th quarter and quite a crowd had gathered to watch the remainder of the game. Despite this, I was nevertheless able to pull up a chair and be close to the action -- and not just the action on the TV, either. During breaks in this exciting game which saw New England overcome a late New York lead to become the first team since the '72 Dolphins to have a perfect record in the regular season, I began to get some awareness of the crowd around me -- in particular, three people seated directly to my right: two women on either side of a man I would come to refer to as The Black Mr. Clean because that's exactly what he looked like ... muscular, his head shaved completely bald, he wore a ring in one ear. To his right was one woman, who I would learn was his girlfriend; to his left, Wicked Kathy. I noticed that while he appeared intently watching the game, Wicked Kathy was rubbing his chest and shoulders. Eventually, Wicked Kathy engaged in a brief, whispered conversation with Mr. Clean's girlfriend and in a moment, she was gone, leaving Mr. Clean with Wicked Kathy.
What happened next, I couldn't believe and wondered whether or not to include it in this trip report because I didn't think anyone else would believe it, either.
While Mr. Clean is now alone with Wicked Kathy, she begins to open his pants and manually stimulate him right there in the piano bar. Between the excitement of the football game and the excitement I observed by these two, I didn't know which action I should be following. Well, I guess Wicked Kathy's hand got a bit tired after a while because then she decided to stimulate Mr. Clean orally instead. Quickly, I had forgotten which team was on offense and what down it was. Hell, I guess I could watch a football game almost any time at home -- this other little show is something I doubt I could've seen anyplace other than here, so I picked these two to continue watching. Mr. Clean played it very cool and gave every appearance that he was watching the game, although in reality Wicked Kathy had allowed him to "finish". Job well done, you guys! By now, I'm sweating and my hands are shaking and I don't know how I'm going to make it back to my room after this. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Clean's girlfriend returns with drinks for all three of them. I'll be damned if I remember the final score of that history-making football game.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 21:12:12 GMT -6
Day 5 - Dec. 30: Here Comes The Sun (Finally) And Yusef
Thursday had an hour and a half of rain that washed out the afternoon. Friday had lunchtime clouds that moved in without producing any rain, but there was also no more sun that afternoon. Saturday saw the clouds move in around the same lunchtime period, but instead of one, long continuous rainfall, it would annoyingly rain – either in drizzles or heavy downpours – off and on in brief spurts for much of the afternoon. Sunday, finally, proved to be a perfect, cloudless day all day, allowing me to see my first sunset from the beach at 5:45 PM.
Not only was an all-day sun making its first appearance on this day, but Yusef did, also.
Yusef, who appears to be around 40, is a lawyer who is also a Hedo New Year’s veteran. Stepping onto the beach, he is greeted with cries of , “Hello, Counselor!” from several who easily recognize this memorable individual.
Yusef is intelligent, articulate and can talk to you in depth about almost any subject, his favorite being sports. “Oh, don’t look for Lovie Smith to be fired at the end of this season!”, he advises a fellow avid NFL fan, “After all, at the end of last season, he signed a multi – year contract with The Bears and they’re not about to eat all of that money so quickly!”.
At 6’4”, Yusef is tall and gangly and when his folding metallic cane is fully extended, it is almost as tall as he.
Yusef, as you may have guessed, is blind.
It takes an enormous amount of courage for someone like that to venture down to a place like this with such a disadvantage, but Yusef will never be seen asking for help as he uses his cane to tap around the edge of the hot tub as he tries to find his way to the men’s room. While never asking for help, it is frequently offered – but only when that assistance comes in what obviously must be a female form does he accept. The man does seem to have a way with the ladies – not only do they offer to walk him to the bathroom, they’ll also get him lunch from the grill, ask him for a dance when he’s in the disco at night … and maybe even offer him other favors should he decide to relax in the hot tub on a given afternoon. Hell, Wicked Kathy took care of him one afternoon while he was stretched out on his lounge chair.
When climbing into the pool, he folds his cane, placing it on the ground next to the handrails. Holding those rails when he places himself on the first step, he then jumps into the pool, making a huge splash and shouting, “Woo-hoo!”, in reaction to the cold water. He enters the pool just like he experiences his life: jumping in fully and completely and savoring every minute.
As you might have noticed, I spent a considerable amount of time observing Yusef, studying his every action because I realized I could learn from him. For someone who is blind, he has more sight than I; and for someone with sight, I am more blind than he.
Yes, the way he bravely goes forward to live his life contains many valuable lessons for me. Perhaps I’ve been too cautious in the way I’ve approached the Hedo experience all of these years? Maybe. This one will require further thought …
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 7, 2008 22:17:22 GMT -6
Day 6 - Dec. 31: The Big PartyWeather-wise, we were on a roll – the 2nd consecutive perfect day here at Hedo. But all was not well with some of the “stragglers” – people who had to this point, not made arrangements for exactly where, how and with whom they would be ringing in the new year. As early as 8:30AM at breakfast on this sunny morning, people had taped signs on tables in the main dining room that read RESERVED, along with their name and room number. Naively, they thought this would be all they had to do in order to ensure their prime spot would be saved throughout dinner and towards midnight; little did they know that when the staff came to set the table for dinner, these signs would either be removed or covered up by the tablecloth – making the table they had worked so hard to save for themselves suddenly appear available to any takers. The secret trick to making sure the table you selected was actually the one you wound up with on New Year’s Eve was simple, but inconvenient: late afternoon, someone from your party would have to be stationed at the table to await the dining room staff who would show up for it to be set. Upon their arrival, that person would then have to remove the Reserved sign and then re-tape it to the top of the tablecloth once the table had been set. These vacations can sometimes be an awful lot of work, but some feel it’s all worth it in the end. On this day, Chatty Cathy had graciously offered me a spot at her large table where I could join her and her husband, as well as Champagne Bob, Wicked Kathy and a good mix of couples and singles who had just met in the past several days. I accepted this offer initially, but turned out never to show up when I devised my own plan for the evening: to snap a few pix of the events. It’s hard to use still photographs to capture the excitement that builds throughout the day and well into the evening when everyone is whipped into a partying frenzy – particularly hard for me, since I’m such a poor photographer. Having taken around 2 dozen pictures, I’ll only post a few, mainly because a number of them didn’t turn out well enough to post, even after trying to fix them up a bit with some photo editing software. First of all, the Champagne Menu posted on the Daily Activities board While you had to purchase bottles of champagne, you could order it by the glass without cost at the main bar. Here was the evening’s dinner menu I don’t know about you, but the only thing I see on the menu for the evening is lobster – I made a pig of myself that night by have six – YES, SIX! – grilled lobster tails with melted butter. And yep, they were mighty tasty. An ice sculpture atop the salad bar wishing everyone a happy 2008 A Calypso band that provided part of the evening's entertainment The countdown to midnight (notice the balloons in a net under the ceiling) At midnight, the balloons are released onto the guests that have packed the dance floor and the celebration begins.
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Post by innit Geezer on Jan 7, 2008 23:45:04 GMT -6
Sometimes I wonder where to look during other peoples trysts as well. The pictures were good! These reports always stir me up for the next time, I miss being there.
Thanks for the report.
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Post by Ardbeg... innit on Jan 8, 2008 6:18:02 GMT -6
Number 10,000 was so good it took 6 posts... happy orgasm Beeb
Edited: Great report BB!! Thanks for the effort!
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Post by jo on Jan 8, 2008 6:47:57 GMT -6
What a great report, BB! I know you will hate to hear this, but your tender side was showing with your sweet observations on Yusef. You may play tough, but I know you are a sweetheart inside!
Happy 2008!
JO
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Post by New Mama on Jan 8, 2008 12:03:40 GMT -6
This is just the best report. I really enjoyed reading it. BB, you've outdone yourself...is that possible? Makes me want to join you next year.
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Post by New Mama on Jan 8, 2008 12:25:17 GMT -6
BB, I used your trademark (below) over at Denny's. I hope that's OK with you. If not, I'll delete it right away.
Exactly ©®
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 8, 2008 12:38:27 GMT -6
BB, I used your trademark (below) over at Denny's. I hope that's OK with you. If not, I'll delete it right away. I don't mind at all -- in fact, I'm quite flattered. Well done! FWIW, if *you* don't delete it, I'm sure "someone else" will!
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Post by New Mama on Jan 8, 2008 12:48:40 GMT -6
BB, I used your trademark (below) over at Denny's. I hope that's OK with you. If not, I'll delete it right away. I don't mind at all -- in fact, I'm quite flattered. Well done! FWIW, if *you* don't delete it, I'm sure "someone else" will! Gee, it didn't occur to me that Denny would take exception to it. After all ...I was on topic. Did you all notice that BostonMike is back 'over there'? He's been MIA since May or so. Maybe he'll drop by here too.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 8, 2008 12:55:01 GMT -6
I was surprised when he didn't come back here to brag about his BoSox winning the series, so maybe IF the Pats win the championship, he'll show for that.
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Post by Tex from Ocho Rios on Jan 8, 2008 16:07:56 GMT -6
Very nice Beeb. Happy 2008.
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Post by innit Geezer on Jan 8, 2008 21:05:26 GMT -6
Tex,
Enjoy your trip.
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Post by Just Mike on Jan 8, 2008 22:08:00 GMT -6
BB, just had to say that was one of the most well-written, informative trip reports i've ever read. Completely ruining my image of you.
Geez, now i gotta rethink this whole @@#$@$& thing. Just teasin!
Seriously, your take on Yusef was refreshing, sounds as if we could all learn much from him.
Thanks again,
Mike
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 8, 2008 23:02:28 GMT -6
(you know, with all of the positive feedback I've received on this trip report thus far, a wise man would reason, "Give up while you're ahead!" -- "Know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em", as Kenny "The Gambler" Rogers once sang. Fortunately, I have never been one to be encumbered by the onus of great wisdom, so I'll carelessly throw caution to the wind and proceed with the rest of my story)
Day 7 - Jan. 1: Bukkake Boy, The Most Virginal
John & Heather have been the instigators all week!
It seems like every time you turn around, they’re engaging in some kind of play – either one of them is going down on the other, or she’s using her hand on him, or they’re just plain having good old-fashioned “man-on-top-let’s-make-a-baby” type of sex. And they didn’t necessarily limit their activity to the hot tub, either. I almost started feeling sorry for poor Heather – considering she was on vacation, it seemed like her husband was having her do an awful lot of work!
As far as oral technique was concerned, Heather had to win the top prize of anyone I’ve ever seen. Every time she took care of John, I had to watch – after all, “a thing of beauty is a joy to behold forever”. What she did and how she did it is difficult for me to describe, but suffice to say that her style was so tender, affectionate, gentle and loving, merely watching her almost caused *both* of my heads to explode. Whoever taught this woman did an outstanding job; she is truly state-of-the-art in this particular area.
Once these two start at it, it was like other couples were waiting for their OK to begin, and so they did. Shortly thereafter, another couple (whose names I never got, but would eventually learn they were from Texas) would go for it; they were frequent players, too. He was a somewhat heavy set man with a crew cut and she looked cute in her short blonde hair with an unusual angular cut; they would proudly put on their little shows several times a day, including the prime time 4PM spot in the hot tub. Then, it was like a chain-reaction and many other couples would follow suit.
One thing that seemed pretty much consistent throughout the week was that – in public, anyway – when couples played, it was with themselves only and not with others. This would ch-ch-change slightly for today’s 4PM hot tub show.
Eventually, show time rolled around and I had my usual front – row seat. It was a particularly crowded hot tub this afternoon – John & Heather were there, the Texas couple was present and they were joined The Black Mr. Clean and his girlfriend. There were many other couples, too (and a few singles scattered about as well), but I really didn’t recognize any of them as members of The Frequent Players Club. This afternoon’s show started quickly enough – Mr. Clean hopped onto the ledge of the hot tub and his girlfriend proceeded to orally pleasure him.
Everyone in the tub looked on as they played, but another couple from across the hot tub also caught my eye – they appeared to be whispering to each other, as though they were scheming a devilish plot. A moment later, the woman from this couple approached Mr. Clean’s girlfriend and whispered something – the very next second, they were BOTH sharing a mouthful of Mr. Clean! After a bit of this, the girlfriend backed off to leave the woman to continue. Following several minutes of this being the center of everyone’s attention, another player enters the game! The Blonde Texan then leaves her husband to make her way over and now it’s almost like watching a relay race as Mr. Clean’s baton is passed along to the successor. She goes for it like a real champ and I can’t believe my eyes!
I don’t know about Mr. Clean, but by now, I’d had enough – I was exhausted just from watching … almost to the point where I thought I’d pass out. If I’d seen something like this in a porno movie, I’d probably yawn and consider pushing the fast forward button – but being present to witness this in person was something else altogether. Just when I thought it was safe … one more: Heather! Ah, the best had been saved for last! She took over from The Blonde Texan and performed the same methodical, precision technique on Mr. Clean that I’d seen her do several times for her husband. When I thought my heart was racing so fast that it would burst out of my chest, off to the side, I now spot The Blonde Texan orally satisfying Mr. Clean’s girlfriend!
OY! I have to leave! These people are driving me C-R-A-Z-Y! Quickly gathering my belongings from my lounge chair, I hustle my horny self back to my room as fast as my chubby little thighs can carry me, in spite of significant chafing. Upon finally returning to my room (no easy task in itself because my hand was shaking so badly, I had great difficulty getting the card key in the slot), I flung myself on the bed and proceeded to beat my dick like it owed me money. (This last line I’ve borrowed from the stand-up comedian “The Reverend” Bob Levy, and I would be greatly remiss if I omitted attributing it to him)
After blasting off into a state of unconsciousness, I awoke from my nap and got ready for dinner; a few hours later, I returned to my room to prep for that night’s PJ Party. I will tell you with neither great pride nor great shame that every year, I win a prize at the PJ Party; my category is Most Virginal. Usually, I win 1st prize, but one year, I finished 2nd to a man more deserving than I: he wore a nightshirt and nightcap. On my very first Hedo trip, I didn’t know about the PJ Party, but just happened to bring along some of your basic powder blue PJ’s (which my then-roommate described as “Rob Petrie pajamas” for those of you who recall the old Dick Van Dyke show); going to the party, I won that year and have won almost every year thereafter – although the powder blue PJ’s were long-since retired in favor of black silk pajamas with matching robe.
Given this history, you would think that I acquired quite a collection of Appleton over the years, but you’d be wrong. You see, even though I win, I have never collected my prize – any attention, even if it’s positive, is unwanted (stop snickering – despite how things may appear on a message board, real life, I assure you, is quite different). Also, when the EC asks for your name and where you’re from, I’ve learned to give fake info (oh, sure, I could simply say I’d rather not play, but this way is a lot more fun for me because it makes me feel like I’m busting the chops of the EC’s).
You might be wondering why I go if I’m not trying to win a prize. Why not skip the party altogether in that case? A fair question, and I’ll try to provide an answer that makes some degree of sense. Long ago, I arrived at the bitter realization that I would likely never be invited to Hef’s Playboy mansion to see his grotto or attend his PJ Party – Hedo would probably be the best I could do – and not too bad at that, I must say. Additionally, I always enjoy the sexual jolt this party provides me – when I see all of the women decked out in those incredible outfits, I feel as though a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog has just sprung to life and I’m in its midst. True, you could argue that the activity of this week (and especially, this afternoon) at the hot tub would’ve been enough of a sexual jolt for me and you’d be right – but this was more of an anomaly. I look forward to the female eye candy I see each year at the PJ Party, and I would not be denied on this trip, regardless of the activity elsewhere.
Reaching the disco, a couple in front of me was turned away because they weren’t wearing PJ’s and I managed to enter without being asked my name (suggesting a possible prize in the offing). Could it be that they weren’t giving prizes this year? Could it be that my look had lost its mojo? I didn’t care – as I just said, I had other reasons for being there.
Approaching midnight, I was ambushed by a couple of EC’s – they wanted to know my name and where I was from. Naturally, I knew what this was all about, so I of course gave them my standard fictional information. When it came time for the prize winners to be announced, The Most Virginal category was first, so I started inching my way out of the disco. (NOTE: one year I made the mistake of not leaving when The Bogus BB was called; noticing that I was not going up to collect my prize, an astute EC came up to me and asked if I was the guy whose name was just called. “Of course not!”, I replied indignantly, staring at her as if she were nuts, then quickly beating a hasty retreat) A third place winner was announced … I stepped back to the bar … a second place winner was announced … I stepped towards the door … finally the first place winner was announced … me, naturally! At this point, I bolted out of the disco so as not to be spotted by anyone. When they finally figured out that this guy was not going to step up to collect his prize, I realized it was now safe to return to the disco to see the other prize winners.
At the PJ Party as on this message board, my anonymity is its own best weapon.
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Post by New Mama on Jan 9, 2008 10:03:29 GMT -6
BRAVO!!!!
Cracked me up. You are just too funny. I'll be thinking about this report for a long time to come. Just trying to figure out a way to talk Art into going back to Hedo for New Years after spending Thanksgiving there. After all, we're not Doc from Buffalo.
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Post by vbplyr on Jan 9, 2008 10:58:13 GMT -6
Dammit - you are really making me kick myself in the ass.....
Never will I miss another one.
Thanks for the dedication!
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 9, 2008 16:48:28 GMT -6
Day 8 - Jan. 2: Discovering Car-Kar And A “Rendezvous” With Wicked Kathy
This being Wednesday, I knew the Repeater Party was going to be held before dinner. The only problem was I didn’t know the venue. Normally, someone from the hotel staff slips an invitation under your door the day before so you’ll know the particulars; this year, however, there was no such notice, so I inquired with the front desk regarding its location.
At 6PM, after leaving the pool and dropping off my belongings in my room, I dutifully headed to the piano bar for the party. As I listened to the staff introductions and spiel about how the air conditioning upgrade would “soon come”, I recognized another pair of familiar faces at the hors d'oeuvre table – but not necessarily the New Year’s regulars I’ve come to expect each year, which was what was so surprising to me.
Carmine & Karen from NY are a couple many of you may know from past travels with the WWWW group; I, however, know them from the NYC Hedo group parties. When I started to leave the Repeater Party, I noticed them standing at the bar, so I stopped by to say hello. Although they recognized me by sight, they didn’t remember my name, so I re – introduced myself and they were surprised that I remembered their names since we were originally introduced a couple of years ago.
It turns out that while they are by no means New Year’s regulars, they have traveled to Hedo for New Year’s at least once before (2004 being their last time, I believe). They say that each year, they like to go to Hedo at different times to see what it’s like at different periods, so they aren’t especially tied to a particular time of year as are some of us. They mentioned that on this trip, they were doing a Sunday – to – Sunday stay; this already being Wednesday, I remarked that it was unfortunate that I didn’t realize until now that they were here as I would be leaving Friday.
“Too bad we didn’t know each other was here until now”, I said, “We could’ve spent New Year’s Eve together”.
“Oh, you probably wouldn’t have wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with us – we ate our lobster and went to sleep before midnight!”, Karen laughed.
We left the piano bar promising to meet up again at least once more before I left; they returned to their room to ch-ch-change for dinner while I stopped off at the main bar before doing the same.
While enjoying the first of what would turn out to be several pre-dinner cocktails at the bar, I run into Wicked Kathy. Prior to this conversation, we have only had a few short chats here and there at various points throughout the day; this would be our first extended discussion together.
Kathy is clearly far ahead of me along the road of cocktail consumption for the day. She was in a mood to party particularly hard tonight because this would be her last one at Hedo for this trip as she would be leaving for home in the morning.
One thing that we discovered we had in common was the fact that in 2008, we would both turn 50; coincidentally, we both felt we had only just started really living our lives in the past few years and our 50’s held more promise than we ever might’ve thought. In Kathy’s case, her mother had passed away after a long illness; prior to that, Kathy had periodically dabbled in the world of swinging, but since her mother’s illness and subsequent passing, she began pursuing that lifestyle more fervently.
I complimented her on her daily table-top dancing at the pool, noting that it was an appropriate opening act for the headliners in the hot tub at 4PM. We then talked about our respective vacations up to that point, my eyes bugging out at her stories of how wild and crazy hers had been in comparison to mine. Much to my surprise, it turned out that this was not only her first New Year’s at Hedo, it was her first Hedo trip ever! This was truly amazing to me because she seemed like she fit right in, with the ease of a veteran – by contrast, I must’ve looked to her and others like *I* was the rookie.
While we were talking, we both noticed that a powerful wind had suddenly picked up. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind snuck up on us and completely blew up Kathy’s short sun dress, revealing to the world that she was (unsurprisingly) going commando. True to form, rather than being embarrassed by this, instead of pushing the bottom of her dress down, Kathy grabbed it by the hem and proudly held it high, writhing around seductively, in a way reminiscent of Kelly Le Brock in the movie “Lady In Red” (or Marilyn Monroe in “7 Year Itch”, if you prefer). Seeing how transfixed I was on this sight as I appreciated my good fortune, Kathy stepped towards me, leaned forward and we began kissing for what felt to me like quite some time.
Being a red-blooded, All-American male, there was one thing and one thing only on my mind at this point: Yusef. At this particular moment, for the life of me, I could not get him out of my head. Why? His zest for life, his inability or unwillingness to limit himself based on the rotten hand of cards life had dealt him. Could I use it as an inspiration to loosen my own reigns on this trip? If there was ever going to be a time to do so, this would certainly seem like the perfect moment.
“You know … “ I said with a sense of urgency when we both finally came up for air, “If there’s one regret I have about this vacation, it’s the fact that we never had a chance to get together”. Appearing mildly startled at my comment, she winked saying, “Hey – the night’s not over yet! And besides, why think this would be the only opportunity we’d have?”. With that, Kathy opened her purse and took out a pad and pen; the pad was almost full with a long list of names and e-mail addresses of the various people she met on this trip; she asked me to add my own info. “That’s a long list”, I said, scribbling my contact information on one of the few remaining blank pages, “Are you sure you’re even going to remember who I am?”. “I’ll add a note”, she said, taking the pen and writing the description “Darkman” between my name and e-mail address – a reference to the nickname I was apparently given by some folks who admired the deep tan I developed over the course of the past week.
With that, Kathy excused herself saying that she was tired and going back to her room to rest up a bit so she would be able to stay up late and party on her last night at Hedo. As things turned out, I never saw her again that night; after all of the partying she had done up to that point in the day, she must’ve gone back to her room and slept The Sleep of The Dead – and likely, well earned. I wasn’t sure if a trip to Alabama would be in my future, but I certainly hoped a trip to New York City was in hers.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 9, 2008 16:50:11 GMT -6
Never will I miss another one. I'm sorry you missed it, too -- it was a particularly lively group in attendance this year and I'm sure you would've enjoyed them.
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Post by pixiedust on Jan 9, 2008 18:35:33 GMT -6
BB,
Your report puts mine to shame - I enjoyed reading every word! Glad you had such a good time and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Hugs,
Colleen
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Post by guestcanuck on Jan 9, 2008 19:16:11 GMT -6
Great trip report!! Made even better by the fact that we know CC (Chatty Cathy) from waaaay back........Mrs. HedoCanucks went to elementary and high school with her but we have never run into her at Hedo. Good description too!! (meant positively).
HedoCanucks
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Post by wareagle on Jan 10, 2008 14:22:27 GMT -6
Who is this chick, Kathy, from Alabama. Southern belle disappeared around News Years for a few days.
Now I'm suspicious.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 10, 2008 17:18:23 GMT -6
Day 9 - Jan. 3: LifeStyles Arrives, Along With The Nasty Weather
Our lucky streak of excellent weather ended at four days.
Awaking Thursday morning, I quickly found that those powerful winds from the previous night blew in a day full of perfectly awful weather: clouds, which not only completely blocked out any sunshine but also cooled off the area so much that no one was in the water and folks were walking around in sweaters or light jackets; occasional periods of rain throughout the day, varying in both duration and intensity; and that wind hasn’t gone away, either – causing TimAir to cancel all of their flights (the hotel instructed any departing guests that they had to take either the bus or a taxi to the airport).
Since it looked like things would be pretty quiet today, I figured this might be a good time to check my work and personal e – mail, so I headed to the Internet workstations. The first thing I noticed upon reaching the lobby was a large table set up with a banner for the LifeStyles organization hanging on the wall behind. A line of couples stood in front of the table as they each checked with a representative from the organization before officially checking-in at the hotel with the front desk staff.
With New Year’s Day 2008 but a memory, it was time for this crew to start piling in … and a reminder that my own vacation was quickly drawing to a close.
In New Year’s trips past, I would arrive on or shortly before Christmas and marvel at how the atmosphere of the place changed when the New Year’s crowd arrived in the next couple of days; then, I would watch as the atmosphere changed yet again shortly after New Year’s when the LifeStylers would begin to trickle in.
Many of the folks with whom I had vacationed this week were starting to leave. The weather was ch-ch-changing for the worse. A crew of unfamiliar faces was now moving in. The inevitable end of my trip was now finally palpable … and maybe just in time.
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Post by DT on Jan 11, 2008 10:09:29 GMT -6
This is just the best report. I really enjoyed reading it. BB, you've outdone yourself...is that possible? Makes me want to join you next year. Ditto, Haven't seen hide nor hair of hedo in over two years. Your report put the DIF back in me. The very first time I went was right after New Years. (1/3/99) psssst... Great trip report, BB.
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Post by ♥ COVID-19♥ on Jan 11, 2008 17:22:37 GMT -6
Day 10 - Jan. 4: “You Can Check – Out Any Time You Like, But You Can Never Leave” This was one of the most surreal days I have ever experienced in my life. It felt like it should’ve been an episode on a TV show – but whether that show should’ve been “Seinfeld” or “The Twilight Zone”, I’ll leave for you to decide. The day began promisingly enough – the foul weather that blew in early yesterday had blown out just as quickly and today looked like it would be another winner. Unfortunately, though, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it because I had to go home. Or at least, that’s what I thought … Just as I never got the invite to the Repeaters Party the other day, I also never got my Eviction Notice yesterday, either (this place keeps finding new and different ways to step on its dick every time it tries to move forward). So, I had to check with the front desk for when I needed to check – out, have my luggage ready and board the damned bus. Check – out was noon and I was told to have my bag outside of the door at the same time; my bus to the airport would leave at 2PM for my 6:15PM AJ Flight # 11 back to JFK. With plenty of time to prep, I spent the morning leisurely packing while watching the news on TV. Mid-morning, I took a break to run out to the gift store for some last minute shopping, then dropped off a couple of postcards for mailing at the front desk before returning to my room to complete packing, shower and dress. Finishing my packing a little early, I decided to head to the front desk and check – out, bringing my luggage (by this point, I wasn’t trusting them to pick up my bag in time for the bus – that actually happened to me once). Mission accomplished (as our POTUS would say), I was given my pass for the 2PM bus. I then headed to the main bar for a pre – lunch cocktail; this would be my only lunch at the main dining room all week, with the exception of Wednesday, when I went over for the Wet T-Shirt contest (which actually didn’t come off as originally planned because none of the guests volunteered – instead, the female EC’s just danced. DISAPPOINTED!). By 1PM, I had finished lunch and ordered another cocktail at the bar. The plan now was to fill out the remaining hour waiting for the bus by sitting in the lobby, reading and sipping my final Hedo drink. Not so fast, cowboy. You may recall on Day 1, I mentioned that my uneventful AJ flight to Jamaica seemed like it was a bad omen for things to come. It was. And here’s the payoff … As I stroll into the lobby, the girl at the front desk – the exact same one who had handled my check – out a mere hour and a half earlier – called me over. Immediately, I knew this was a bad sign. She informed me that the hotel had just been contacted by Air Jamaica and told that Flight 11 to JFK – originally scheduled to depart at 6:15 PM – was now delayed. Until 9:45 PM. Three and a half hours because they had to switch to another aircraft. I’m dying – this means I won’t arrive at JFK until after 1AM the next morning. She said the best she could do was to get me on the 6PM bus to the airport, but that I could stay at the hotel and enjoy the facilities until then. Now, being able to spend an unanticipated extra four hours at Hedo might sound like a bonus to many of you, but I was stressing out because of how late I would be getting home – you see, I had foolishly expected that my flight home would be roughly on time, giving me ample opportunity to sleep, rise early Saturday morning and run a bunch of errands in order to get ready for my return to work on Monday (Sunday being a day that I would totally crash after my trip, vegging – out in my apartment and doing nothing but watch the NFL playoffs). At this point, both my sleep time and my time for errand-running were beginning to look like they might be in jeopardy. By 2PM, I made it back to the pool and found that miraculously, the lounge chair I’d been occupying all week was somehow still available, so I immediately pounced. After a while, I took a dip in the pool and sampled another drink at Delroy’s; John and Heather were still here and they began one last performance for my benefit (or so I chose to believe, anyway). Returning to my chair, I grabbed a fresh towel from the bin, wrapped it around my waist and headed down the beach in search of Carmine & Karen. I ran into Karen the previous night during dinner and mentioned to her that I was scheduled to leave the next afternoon; she graciously offered me access to their room to shower and ch-ch-change after spending a couple of hours on the beach awaiting my bus to the airport – I thanked her, but not wanting to inconvenience them, planned on using a shower in the spa instead. Locating them on the front of the beach not far from the shuffleboard, they were surprised to see I was still around, especially since they had been looking for me earlier. I explained my dilemma and they again offered room access, but I politely declined, informing them of my alternate plan. After spending a few minutes with them, I wished them an enjoyable remainder to their stay, then excused myself to get ready for what I HOPED would finally be my bus to the airport. Boarding the bus on time, I kept my fingers crossed the entire ride to MBJ. Having purchased a First Class (Business Class? Executive Class? WHATEVER!) Ticket on AJ, I knew that there would be no check – in line and that I would quickly be whisked away to the Air Jamaica Lounge. But once again, I was being far, far too optimistic. Right away, I get to the head of the line and see there’s a family of five already at the counter – Dad, Mom, their teenage son & daughter and Granny in a wheelchair. As I anticipate getting to the counter to receive my boarding pass, I suddenly overhear them transacting their business: it turns out they have a total of SIXTEEN pieces of luggage which need to be checked and not ONE of them has a single luggage tag to identify them. As a result, the AJ rep is having them fill out a luggage tag for each bag. Oh, it gets better. You would think that they would enlist the help of everyone except Granny to fill out the information on the luggage tags in order to expedite the process, BUT NOOOO … apparently, only Mom could do that as Dad goofed around with Son taking turns weighing themselves on the baggage scale and Daughter was busy making and taking expensive calls on her cell phone. I was ready to murder them all. By the time this circus had completed, I had spent minimally 20 minutes on the line (that might be a conservative estimate). This, however, would not be the last I would see of them. Finally, it’s my turn to check – in. When I’m given my boarding pass, I’m shown that the flight will be boarding at Gate 7 … but now won’t be leaving until 10:45PM! DOH! This is an hour later than what I was told at Hedo! Well, nothing I can do about it except sulk, so I take my boarding pass after my ONE bag is checked at the counter, and breeze through security, making a brief stop at a duty free store that’s still open so I can purchase some rum cream. Heading to the AJ Lounge immediately after my purchase, I notice it has been re-located due to the airport renovations. One can only hope that this new lounge is temporarily set up until the other airport renovations are completed because this one is a real dump – the place had the look and feel of a funeral parlor! Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded and there was some semblance of a bar, so I tried to settle in for a while. The surroundings, combined with my being increasingly anxious to board the plane, made me want to leave the lounge a little early, before the boarding time was actually called for my flight. Reaching the gates, I saw there was a large crowd lined up at Gate 6, but nothing doing at Gate 7 – odd, I thought, since it wasn’t all that long before take-off. When I made an inquiry to a nearby airport employee, he told me that there was a gate ch-ch-change made to my flight – AJ # 11 would now be leaving from Gate 6, *not* Gate 7! DOH, again! My boarding pass had Gate 7 written on it and even the airport monitors that list all of the upcoming departing flights displayed Gate 7 for my flight (I’d triple-checked this before leaving the AJ Lounge). I was lucky to have found this out when I did, otherwise, I likely would have missed my flight! It’s 10:45PM and I’m just now boarding the plane. I show my ticket to Karen, the AJ Flight Attendant, and she informs me that the seat for which I was ticketed is already occupied and inquires if I would mind taking the adjacent seat, which is still empty. I tell her that after everything I’ve been through today, I didn’t really care – just so long as I was on a plane that would take me home ASAP. She does, however, warn me: the reason my original seat is occupied is because the person who requested it is an elderly woman who’s not exactly in the best shape – furthermore, if I do sit next to her, the Flight Attendant said I might have to pitch-in to help her with this woman because it appeared she would be somewhat high – maintenance. I agreed to help just so I could get a seat; had I declined, Karen had offered to try to find me another seat, but given the luck I’d been having that day, I didn’t like my odds -- especially given that this flight was packed. Settling in to the seat, who do you think the elderly woman in question is? You guessed it – Granny, from The Samsonite Clan who greeted me at the AJ 1st Class check – in counter! In front of her are Dad & Mom and across the aisle from them are Son & Daughter. At this point, I’m wondering whose child I murdered in a previous life to wind up at this level of Hell. Karen offers me a cocktail and I accept before she can even finish the sentence; I am grateful that she winds up over-serving me many times throughout the flight (bringing me *two* glasses of champagne every time!) as I find I am Granny’s personal attendant, charged with the following tasks: • Buckling her seatbelt • Unbuckling her seatbelt • Plugging in her headset • Adjusting the volume on her headset • Locating the channel where the in-flight movie’s audio is located so she could hear it on her headset • Explaining to her that I don’t know what’s on the menu for the in-flight meal because it’s not a menu that I’ve just been handed, it’s the Customs Declaration form Uh, of course I could go on, but I think you get the idea by now. The flight went wheels up at 11:15PM from MBJ and wheels down at JFK at 2:45AM Saturday morning. I bolted from the plane to get through Customs and reach the baggage carousel as quickly as possible. This experience would turn out to be yet another mini-adventure. Also on my flight was another family that consisted of three brothers who seemed to be in their late teens/early-twenties; one of those young men appeared to be mentally retarded. He wore an iPod throughout the flight and when talking to his brothers, neglected to adjust his volume (on either his voice or his iPod) and wound up SHOUTING his end of the conversation to them. For three and a half hours. Standing at the carousel, these young men were beside me. Apparently, the retarded young man was determined to serenade me with every song that was on his iPod while we all awaited our luggage. Opening with Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road”, he offered his own interpretation of the lyrics: Instead of “Oh, oh, oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road … ”. For his next number, he chose to mangle Don McLean’s “American Pie”: Apparently, the 2008 version of “American Pie” concerned itself with lesbians’ personal lubricants. Ever hear the old song, “Gary, Indiana”? Well, this kid sure did. Unfortunately, he didn’t know the rest of the lyrics, so he just kept singing the title over and over again while dancing around: Need I go on? No, I didn’t think so. After an eternity during which time only advanced a mere 15 minutes, luggage finally started flying down the chute of the carousel. In a sudden occurrence of good luck which I was convinced had completely abandoned me by this point, my bag was the third one to appear – I grabbed it and ran like hell out of the airport (but not without first making a brief pit stop in the men’s room as a result of being over-served on my flight. Thank you again, Karen). I was able to get a taxi to Brooklyn right away and made it back in record time, presumably due to the fact that given the lateness of the hour, traffic was light on the expressways. At 4AM Saturday morning, I stepped into my apartment. After this entire ordeal, I was finally home. Too wound up at this point to actually sleep, I listened to the radio for a bit while lying in my bed. Eventually, I set the alarm and fell asleep. Awaking just a few short hours later, I sat on the edge of my bed and looked around my apartment, grateful to finally be home once again. I wondered … did I dream what happened yesterday? For that matter, was the entire last week merely a dream? I gazed at my tanned arms and decided if it was a dream, then I must’ve fallen asleep under a sun lamp. Moving particularly slowly this morning, I finished two cups of coffee before I could handle my first task of the day: unpacking. To start things off easily, I decided the first thing I would unpack would be the least challenging item: Without too much effort, it was open and I welcomed home my new two best friends: And we all lived happily ever after. At least until the bottles were empty, anyway. THE END
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Post by Merlot Joe on Jan 11, 2008 20:23:58 GMT -6
Looks like Murphy's Law caught up to you on the trip home.
Nice report BB.
Joe.
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Post by Chicago Jake on Jan 11, 2008 20:53:37 GMT -6
Excellent, Beeb! From start to finish.
I've had similar delays on the return flight on AJ many times. Nearly EVERY time, in fact. But I never had them call the resort in advance so I could spend the hours there! I always found out the hard way - at the airport.
And.... I've had a first class seat that mysteriously disappeared when they had to ch-ch-change aircraft, to one with NO first class section! That's a pisser. All of the cost, and none of the comfort. No refund, either. Bastards......Jake
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