After a twelve hour trip, hell it felt more like 24 hours, we finally arrived in Jamaica for our long awaited honeymoon. I was totally ready for this, Darnell on the other hand was acting like somebody stuck a carrot up his butt, as he sat in the terminal pouting about something-or-other, waiting for our luggage. I think maybe it was the fact that I had about 40 bags for a two week trip, and he had the privilege of helping to unload everyone of them. He’s already starting to work on my last nerve. But I’m not going to let him get to me. Hell, I’ll kick his tail, before I let him ruin my first trip to this beautiful Island. We got checked into our bungalows, Lord I think Darnell went all out this time, we even got a Jacuzzi, and checking out the view. It feels like I can step right into the ocean from our balcony.
I hurried and changed into my royal blue, two piece swim suit, I was looking good too, while Darnell on the other hand, took his sweet time about changing into his trunks. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be there, but I sure as hell didn’t care, I was there to have a good time.
On our way downstairs, Darnell kept giving me this lecture on how to be the proper tourist, like he really knows what the hell a proper tourist is. He getting on my last nerve, I’ m going to pop him right now. The only reason I keep him around is because he looks too good on my arm.
Sitting by the pool, with my brown sugar legs nicely oiled, not that I need it or anything, but this husband of mine insists that we use the sun block, anyway, my big tan hat on top of my head and my brown shades covering my deep brown eyes… A man sure can ruin a good thought… as Darnell reaches over every freakin’ five minutes to cover my legs. I swear I’m going to kick his happy tail if he doesn’t leave me the hell alone. I popped his hand and told him to leave me alone, “I’m fine,” I said, “I don’t want you to catch cold Dorothy,” he insisted. “Who in the hell threw a cold my way, it’s 104 degrees in the shade and you’re worried about me catching a cold.” I looked at him and rolled my eyes, than turned away to hid the big cheesy smile on my face, thinking to myself, I gotta love this man.
Darnell’s a good man, in fact I believe he’s been saving for this trip since the day we got married. Oh it’s been about 22 years now, but we couldn’t afford a honeymoon, in fact we couldn’t even afford a wedding ,we went down to city hall, me all dressed in my Sunday’s best and Darnell all duded up in the only black suit he owned at the time. He always said the only way he’d buy another suit is if he was going to his own funeral; that man hates to dress for any occasion. So when we got married, I was shocked to see him in a suit, and he looked so cute too. Well anyway, we went to city hall and did the I do’s and that was that. I never worried about a honeymoon, cause I knew we didn’t have the money, but my dear sweet husband made me a promise that one day he’d take me to Jamaica. I smiled and said “that’ll be great,” I never dreamed this day would really happen, and now it’s here.
Darnell says I still look the same as when he first fell in love with me. Okay the truth of the matter is I’ve put on a few pounds, nothing to be a shamed of, mind you, but I could use a treadmill, if you know what I mean. But my man…he’s a fine thing. With the salt and pepper sprinkles on top his head, and his smooth carmel apple skin, tight little behind, and legs, oh how God blessed this man’s body. I think God made a mistake when he gave him to me, but I ain’t complaining not one little bit. We have two children, they’re all grown up, with families of their own.
So when we decided to take this trip, I was excited, but I wasn’t to thrilled about riding on a plane. Darnell assured me that things would be fine, and the closer the date came, the braver I got; in fact Darnell said I was so brave I bought up the dang store just for this trip, he aint’ lying, I did. I say you only live once, Darnell says “yea and you only die once too and life ain’t no spending spree.”
It was around midnight, I’d put on my nightgown, the new long sleeve cotton with the pretty pink, blue and green flowers to go to bed, when Mr. Man wants to get down right freaky. He comes out of the bathroom just as I’d gotten into bed, in some devil hot red boxers with a black trim, looked like Muhammad Ali. He opened up a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, turned on a little mood music. Now I’m sitting up in bed, in a long sleeve hot cotton gown just looking at this delicious man coming towards me. I got coco-butter all over my face, you could slide a penny down my right cheek, I’m so greasy, and he comes over to me all sexy like. He sits on the bed and hands me a glass of wine, I smile, he smiles, and then he starts to kiss me on my neck, but the coco-butter is making it hard for him to enjoy. Finally he says, “Dorothy why don’t you skip your coco-butter treatment for tonight.” Now I have never missed a night of putting coco-butter on my face in 15 years, but I tell you what, the way this man was coming on, I hopped out of bed so fast, you would’ve thought I was Jackie Joyner sister, and ran my happy tail into the bathroom to get all dolled up. I’m tossing clothes around like ain’t no tomorrow, washing my face, and brushing my teeth, putting on perfume and changing every outfit I put on. Finally I find it…the perfect Nigh-tee. It’s short, it’s easy to slip out of, and it as black as midnight. I put on a little lipstick just for flavor, nothing more, and I go strutting my tail into the other room, and just what do I find. He’s sleep, his tail went to sleep. I was so mad. Here he made me take off my coco-butter treatment and he’s sound to sleep, and he had the nerve to be snoring. I know I wasn’t in that bathroom that dang long, for him to be snoring the way he was. I was so mad I could have taken a pan of hot pee and poured it over his head.
The next morning, he’s wondering why I’m not speaking to him, like he’s got amnesia or something…amnesia my foot. “What’s wrong with you?” he kept asking me, like he don’t know what he did…rather didn’t do last night, I could pop him. Well ain’t no need in staying mad for the remainder of this beautiful day. I lovingly smile in his direction and my little fellow knows it okay to come to me. He hands me a cup of coffee and kisses me on the lips, like he always does when he guilty about something. I guess after 22 years of marriage I know him pretty well…he still don’t have a clue.
We’re suppose to try snorkeling today, I’ve never been, but Darnell say’s it could be a lot of fun. I laugh sarcastically, cause his amnesia’s kicked in again, he ain’t never been snorkeling either. Instead Darnell decides he wants to see the sights, so we rented a car, I suggested we get a tour guide, he insisted that he knows where he going. There are two things I know about this man after 22 years of marriage; one is, he has never been able to find anything. “Baby where is it?” is the name I’ve put on my birth certificate since we’ve been married; and two, he ain’t never been to Jamaica before, so I can pretty much guarantee how this is going to turn out, but I think he’s getting the hang of why we’re on this trip, so I go along with his plan.
It must be love, cause from the get-go, we started out being lost. One simple route, that’s all he had to follow, to get to the jubilee; as a matter of fact, it was a straight-out-shot, but my wonderful husband, decided, with his peon brain, that he should make a right turn, and I’ll be darned if we didn’t get lost in some god-forsaken swamp or wherever the hell we were. I don’t know what’s worst, his since of direction, or listening to his “Dorothy, we’re not lost” speech. It took almost five hours before we found that dang road again. All I could do to keep from screaming, was remind him of that proper tourist bull crap he kept telling me back in the lobby. “Tour guide!” I yelled as we made our way back onto the main road. I was so pissed at him for ruining my whole day, you just don’t know how much I wanted to pop this man. You know that last nerve I had reserved, well it was working it way up to the top. I just wanted to get back to our bungalow and take a hot bath.
After a nice long hot bath, I came out of the bathroom and that sweet man of mine had a nice candle lit lobster dinner waiting. I’d never had lobster before, and I don’t think he had either; we looked ridiculous trying to eat these strange creatures. It was funny because, who we were trying to impress, I’ll never know, but we sat down like the elegant people we were not and tackled our plates. I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to get into the shell to get to the meat. Finally after about a half hour of trying, I looked at him and asked for a hamburger. He called room service.
We’ve been here a week now and I was starting to feel like somebody had taken that carrot and stuck it up my butt. It seemed like everything we wanted to do or tried to do was shot down by something or someone. Darnell decided it was time he took matters into his own hands to help me have a good time, like he hadn’t already, I mean, taken things into his own hands that is, hell he was the main reason I was having such a horrible time, but he meant well, and I knew it. He called the front desk to arrange a real tour for us. I agreed after he assured me that he wouldn’t be the driver. Things started out great, until we stopped at some remote little place for a bite to eat. I didn’t have any idea what it was I was eating, but the guide said this was were most of the Americans, whenever they came to the Island, stopped here to eat. The food tasted good in a strange sort-of-kindda way, but it left a nasty after-tasted in my mouth, so after about four spoonfuls, I didn’t want anymore. I never did find out what it was I ate, but that night my stomach cussed me out. I was so sick, it felt like I would puke my brains out any minute, and talk about diarrhea, I had it, or it had me, one. I have never seen that much mess come out of one person’s body in all my life. And Darnell just went on and on about how tasty the food was. If he says one more word about how good that food was, I’ll kick him to the curb. Well he did, and I didn’t, kick him to the curb, that is.
The next morning I was feeling really good, whatever made me sick the night before, seems to have passed. I wanted to get in some snorkeling before the day was over. I put on my one piece black swimsuit with a white line going around my waist and threw on my little linen jacket that matched. As we were headed out the door to meet person who was going to teach us all about snorkeling, Darnell had to take a dump. “I won’t be but a minute” he tells me. Minute…yea right. That man stayed on the toilet for almost two hours. He was in there so long, I had to knock on the door to see if he was still breathing. “Give me another minute, than we can go!” Does he just not have since of time, I wondered, cause apparently he didn’t realize he’d been in the bathroom for over two hours, and once again we missed the action. Surprisingly I wasn’t too upset, and beside that night we finally got our grove on, and boy, I’ll tell you that man still knows how to make me scream bloody JOY.
Our trip finally came to an end, and my dear sweet husband was having a fit. He just didn’t want to go home. Telling me, how we could stay just one more week, and how the kids didn’t care if we was gone another week, and how it would be okay with his boss, after all he still had a week’s worth of vacation left. I did not want to hear any of it, I just wanted to go home. I packed my stuff and had it put into the cab and hurried him along. He just kept fussing about staying, but I wasn’t hearing none of it. When we got to the airport he put my own bags on the cart. I just wanted to go home. This had been my worst nightmare for a trip..but that man of mine…he’s still the true love of my life….can’t wait to see what he has in store for the next 20 years.