Friday, December 16, 2011

the woes of skinny dipping

A few years ago, my husband and I went on a 2nd honeymoon to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary.

We considered several different destinations, Alaska, Fiji, Hawaii. But we finally decided on Jamaica.

Several friends and co-workers had recently been to Jamaica and had nothing but raving reviews about the beautiful Caribbean waters, the soft white sands of Negril,  the welcoming Jamaican culture, the exotic food, the intoxicating rum...

and the skinny dipping...

Jim & I skinny dipping in the warm Caribbean waters of Jamaica

When the thought of embarking on our first "grown up" trip without our children, we flirted with the idea of living a little outside our comfort zone... do something we normally wouldnt skinny dipping.

Our rationale was that you only live once, and if we did happen to encounter anyone while going for a dip, it's not like we'd ever see them again, so who cares what they would think, right?


Maybe...(special shout out to all my Canadian and East Coast friends I met on that trip)

My husband and I perused the internet travel sites to review the various resorts along the 7 mile beach of Negril to check price and availability. Once we found the all-inclusive package that had all we were looking for, we clicked the reservation button and we were on Marley countdown.

We had been warned that the sun in Jamaica is a different kind of sun than we're used to here in Southern California. Jamaica is 18 degrees above the equator and fair-skinned visitors tend to burn easily. In preparation, we purchased an all-you-can-handle tanning package at the local spa.

Every day, we would go there after work, don funny little goggles and tanning lotion that was so expensive, we were sure the sparkles were made of real gold. We burned, we baked, on a daily basis so we would be able to face the Jamaican sun.

 We arrived in Jamaica full of excitement for the new adventures that lie ahead. The heat and humidity were oppressive, and the only  relief from the scorching sun was during the daily 15 minute monsoonal rainstorm every afternoon and at night..

 After settling into our room on the first day, we changed into our suits, grabbed our towels and headed towards the beach... the nearly empty, completely secluded private beach. And despite being artificially bronzed, we grabbed our SPF 90, as well.

Our first day out in the warm, torquoise waters was something I will never forget. Not because of the clear, beautiful water, not because of the beautiful sea life I viewed while snorkeling. Not because it was the first time I stupidly braved a skinny dipping jaunt, but because I received the worst sunburn of my life!

Disclaimer ~ This is my butt.... no, really, it is. Yes I'm serious! This is my butt!! OK, OK ... so it's not my butt, but this is MY story, so if I want to say this is my butt, I will !!!
 I had thoroughly burned my butt !!! When snorkling and skinny dipping are combined, one's ass WILL soak up the majority of those intense rays !!! It hurt to sit. It hurt to lie down. It hurt to .... well.... I just hurt.

It especially hurt to wear panties !!!  So, needless to say, the majority of my time was spent in a sundress, sans panties... I mean, who was gonna know, right?


In between more skinny dipping/sunburn excursions, rum punch libations, and jerk chicken feed-fests, Jim and I took part in the lunchtime organized group activities. On our 2nd or 3rd day there, I was fully engrossed in the lunchtime game which was a full contact game of Trivial Pursuit Jamaica.

The object of this game was to answer simple trivia questions about Jamaica. The catch was that, if you thought you had the correct answer, you had to run through the dining room, down a set of steps onto the sunken dance floor, run across the dance floor, and be the first one into a chair where the Emcee, a cross dressing Jamaican by the name of Winston/Winstina, was waiting with a microphone and an always flamboyant,appropro comment .

Correct answers were rewarded with a silver coin which could later be redeemed for a bottle of rum.

I was in a full-on battle between a girl from New York for those silver coins. We would both leap onto the dance floor, full sprint, and make a mad dash for that chair.

Sometimes she would win the coin, sometimes I would. No matter who won the coin, Winston/Winstina has something to say.

The last question was posed. I ran towards the chair. New York girl ran for the chair. I got there first! But, as I neared the chair, I lost my footing and fell...

... and I fell hard landing on my hands and knees!!!

And when I landed on my hands and knees, my sundress flew up over my head exposing my bright, red, sunburned ass to everyone eating their lunch !!!!

That would be embarrassing enough, right???

But, let's remember who we're talking about... ME... so you know there's more to the story, right?


As soon as I landed (with a thud), I rolled over onto my sunburned ass to regain my composure and ascertain the level of my shame. Hmmmm...yes, everyone is laughing... Jim is mortified...and Winston is coming to my aide...

or so I thought.

As Winston stood next to me in his high heel stilettos, his eyes would divert to me sitting on the floor and something that had caught his attention to my right. I watched him look back and forth from me to the floor several times before I looked to my right.

I looked.... and to my horror, I saw it...

There was a puddle of "something" on the floor where I had just landed!

I quickly looked up at Winston, who now had his hand on his hip and was just shaking his head...

"I didn't do that", I said

"You sure?" Winston asked (into the microphone)

"I didn't do that" I said again.

Winston took the tip of his high heel shoe and distributed the little puddle to investigate.

"Oh, no, Honey, that IS you! You pee-pee'd on my floor, Honey" (again, with the aide of his microphone)

***Crickets***...followed by an even more uproarious laugh-fest

Yes, I had fallen so hard that I literally sprayed pee out backwards between my thighs and onto the dance floor !!!!

Having no easy escape, I do what I always do, and play it up to the hilt.

I get to my feet... raise my arms in victory as I accept responsibility for the fact that that I had, indeed, pee'd on Winston's dance floor. Because, let's face it, I couldn't do that again if I tried! So I put it out there as being a pretty amazing feat of accomplishment!

I waved to the crowd, answered the trivia question, claimed my silver coin, grabbed the microphone from Winston and loudly requested a clean-up for a wet spill on aisle 5.


As I later tempered the sting of sunburn and embarrassment with a double rum punch, I contemplated whether I would ever skinny dip and risk sunburned buns again .....

Hmmmmm..... depends

Until next time we meet, Winston...

One Love

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