We’ve had a great time so far. In the car, to kill time across Alligator Alley, Ray suggested a word game that he and his mom used to play to make the trip from NY to FL go faster. You had to say a word and then the other person says a word that starts with the last letter of the previous word. It took me a second to catch on that all the words Ray was giving me ended in Y. Relentlessly (hey there’s a Y word!) At the end of it all, I was desperately making sh_t up like the word yellowishly, just so I could shoot the Ys back at him.
We fooled around in the room once we got back from eating…let’s call it, lupper. Dinch? No, that sounds dirty. Lupper or Sunch.
After Ray got up and went to the bathroom, I realized, as I was lazing looking out the window, that there was a pair of young female, blue-shorted legs on the balcony above and to the right of us, looking, I assume, directly into our bedroom. By young I mean the legs of a non knee-wrinkled, spider-viened twenty-something. (Certainly not the young, like a teddy bear should be dangling from my arm, kind of young.) I was amused at how less than horrified I was. I’ve always considered myself as more of a voyeur than an exhibitionist. But I think several factors went into this state of mind. Using Lorie’s favorite list mode (the bullet), these are:
- She wasn’t a man.
- I couldn't see her face (to see if she was laughing).
- She didn't bring anyone else out on the balcony.
- I wasn’t in a place where I knew anybody.
- I wasn’t 100% sure she saw anything of consequence.
- If she did see anything, I'm pretty sure she had a good show.
Today we are going for a couples massage at noon. I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I hope my next entry is:
“It was heaven.”
Not a four paragraph long tirade on crappy masseuses.