This is an old Never Before Published! post that I wrote while I was in the Dominican Republic this past Fall and never posted … Enjoy!
(First, thank you to all of my lovely readers who have contacted me to demand more content, and in the process, complimented me on my writing. I do so enjoy entertaining you – hopefully you can look for my book in the next couple of years!)
I realized, as I directed someone to my blog today, that I have no posted in a long, long time.
I am a slacker, and I apologize.
Actually, I’m far from a slacker, I’m just not good with things that require extreme amounts of consistency.
Also, the past several weeks have been full of mini-vacations, preapring for and teaching classes, and most consumingly, finals for the other classes I oh-so-ambitiously took in addition to this internship. In other words, things have been insane. I have several stories worth writing that range from the adventures at the resort (oh, you can’t wait for those, trust me) to the last very moving and emotional class we had with the women.
In all reality, howver, I will not get to all of these in one post. So, alas, I must choose one to write about. It makes the most sense to start with the earliest, and so I will tell you about my time at La Gran Pricipe Resort.
Jill and I decided to take advantage of Thanksgiving week by visiting one of the very well-spoken of resorts on this island. Also, Jill’s boy friend, sister, and sister’s friend were flying in from the states and Switzerland, and Jill, of course, wanted to show them a good vacation time, and, for most people, good vacation time doesn’t usually involve the lack of electricity and running water 🙂 We got a ride Monday morning (the week of Thanksgiving) to the airport, where we picked up Jill’s amigos and a rental car. Since I am the only person with experience driving in this insane country, it was deemed that I was to drive the rental car two hours to the resort. We piled in (five people and luggage for all of us, plus all of my and Jill’s class supplies for the upcoming week) and barely fit, only adding to my own nerves about driving a very shiny (seemingly too small) Mitsubishi Lancer that wasn’t mine through a country where traffic laws are mere suggestions that most people choose to ignore.
On the drive to the resort (as my passengers marveled at the insanity that surrounded us), I was shocked to discover how open, beautiful, and different the country side was from the city that I had been experiencing. Things were quiet. There were farm animals everywhere. Things were … dare I say, quaint?
The drive was, thankfully, uneventful.
That’s a really good thing, considering how eventful things were about to become.
We were all excited about spending time at the resort – Jill and I especially. This was our big break during this trip – a week to do nothing but sip champagne and sit by the pool, to be interrupted only by scenic strolls on the beach.
Sounds amazing, right? It was! There were just a few more interruptions than anticipated …
We had gorgeous rooms with a gorgeous view – thanks to Jill’s travel agent connection – and the pool and beach were absolutely beautiful. I was ready to relax, but, instead of being interrupted only by walks on the beach, I was constantly interrupted by rowdy men looking to score. (yeah, I just used the word rowdy) They were pushy, insistent, and put way too much effort into trying to figure out my room number.
After too much champagne in the sun (damn, you, pool bar…) something possessed me to concede to a stroll on the beach with the activities director of the resort. He was tall, Haitian, and had a small gap in his front teeth that I actually found endearing – until he mashed them against my mouth trying to make out with me. There was a bar on the beach too, and being the classy guy he was, he “got” me a drink. Considering that the drinks were free and he had to hide from his supervisor while guzzling the mess behind a palm tree, it may not have been as impressive as you think. Ok, let’s be real. It wasn’t. I should have turned around and marched myself back to the pool then, but like I said – Champagne. Sun. You know.
Newly invigorated by his smuggled beer, he took my hand and walked me further down the beach. It was very pretty – although he shouldn’t be given any credit for the environment. The white sand was studded with palm trees, grass umbrellas, and lounge chairs. It was one of these palm trees that he pushed me up against when he decided – out of nowhere – to kiss me. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ll give anyone credit for making the first move – it’s not always an easy task and rejection looms heavy, but a touch of advice to all of you over-zealous move makers out there – at least make sure the other person is remotely interested in your come-on. Just a suggestion.
So he kissed me. I protested. He stopped. Went for it again. I protested more obviously. He stopped. Went for it again. I started to walk away. (You see where this is going).
As I’m walking away, he grabs my arm, spins me around and in his best bedroom (beach resort?) voice, he whispers, “Do you want to make sex?”
I nobly fought my laughter.
I not-so-nobly lost. I laughed the entire walk back to the pool as he followed, asking me if he could see me again.
The all-too-short week progressed from there. We all ate too much, got too much sun, and drank too much. Men continued to hit on us, and, I have to admit I was mildly interested in a particularly endearing guy I affectionately referred to as “the omlette boy” all week – since the only time I ever saw him was in the morning when he made the omlettes at the breakfast buffet.
Regardless – we were scheduled to leave Friday morning. The plan was for me to drive the rental car back to the airport, where Jill and I would bid farewell to our guests. We would then take a cab back to our respective houses in Santo Domingo. (I should also mention that the day before, Jill and I were supposed to drive back to Santo Domingo to teach our weekly class and then return to the resort – none of which actually happened since our rental car wouldn’t start)
Friday morning came.
We didn’t leave.
In fact, we were completely incapable of leaving.
This blog is already super long. I will post the rest of the story tomorrow! Tune in to find out ….
Did i REALLY just “To be Continued” my blog?
Yeah. I did.