Gemma's Sunglasses go on Spring Break

The LSH and I took a much deserved vacation to Key West last week.  It was our first vacation since our honeymoon five years ago.  Five years, you say with surprise?  Yes, five loooooong years.  We usually end up having those horrid things called staycations because we live at the beach but they don't end up being much of a vacation at all.  Anyways, we went to Key West and I took Gemma's sunglasses with me.  Here's what happened: 

We arrived about an hour before check-in and our room wasn't ready because the hotel was upgrading us to a oceanfront room.  Score!  So the LSH and I meandered over to the bar to drink some pina coladas while the hotel elves readied our room.  After 2 hours and plenty of rum, the LSH turned to me and said "Go get 'em Gemma," and off I went.  Now, I don't know if the front desk people could smell the rum on my breath sense the fierceness of the sunglasses but they happily produced two room keys when I said, "Hey, darlin' we've been waiting on our room for too long.  We'd like our room now."  


And after that things went so swimmingly that I was mellow as all get out.  Like I couldn't snark to save my life.  With or without the sunglasses.  Didn't matter.  I was oddly nice and pleasant to be around.  I blame it all on the view from my beach hammock:

      
On our second night in town, we ventured out for a swanky dinner. It was lucky that we had just been to the Sunset Celebration at Mallory Square and I had Gemma's sunglasses on the top of my head because things got dicey.  There was a very, very drunk Brit sitting on the lower deck who was shouting "There is no God."  Which is all well and good -- to each their own --whatevs.  But then every time a patron would leave he'd shout, "Go on, get out of here. We didn't like you anyways."  Oh, then he bagged on Americans.  And women.  And just about everything else under the sun.  And of course every other word was fuck.  


Dear reader, you know me.  You know that fuck is my favorite word.  But when you are in the $40+ per entree place for dinner, it just doesn't fit.  So when Loudy Drunky came back from the bathroom, I politely said, "Keep your voice down, darlin." I'd loooove to say that it worked but it didn't --in fact he kind of threatened me.  Then he went yammering on blah blah blah. Our ever-helpful waiter had him thrown out before we could even raise the issue.   Bliss!  


And last but not least, Gemma's sunglasses, the LSH and I rented a motorbikes to tour the island in style.  Isn't she pretty?  All red and shiny.

    

After a quick lesson from a hot tattooed guy, we were off!  I never went faster than 35 mph but I loooooved it.  The wind whipping though my hair, the freedom, and a completely different perspective on the road.  I did have some minor problems with controlling the throttle and break while turning -- or worse, turning a corner from a full stop.  That was difficult.  Like jumping/halting/nearly wrecking difficult.  But in spite of all of that, Gemma's sunglasses and I had great fun tooling around on our motorbike in Key West.  So much fun that I asked the LSH to get me one for my birthday.  Which I have been informed is totally not going to happen.  Like ever.  Oh well....  here's to a great vacation.    

Back to regular blogging this week and I've got Juice in the works for the Questionnaire series.