WINTER VAYCAY: Hug A Gringo

 

Cocaine Princess here.

Waking up on Christmas Morning in the tropics is always a plus. After opening our gifts
Valentina and I headed poolside for breakie. The servers although they were in uniform, all wore the red Santa caps including the employees at the front desk. Breakfast was served buffet style. I’m not a fan of buffets but given the tropical and merry ambiance, the countless times I heard “Feliz Navidad” being exchanged back and forth and watching all the little wee ones in their swim wear splashing in the pool and zooming down the water~slide, I didn’t mind waiting in line. Valentina on the other hand had a big problem.

VALENTINA: I hate buffets. I hate having to wait in line for food.

I explained I didn’t want to eat Christmas day breakie in our air conditioned suite BUT under the hot, sultry sun. And of course she had a speedy reply.

VALENTINA: We have a butler and I know for a fact he can cook. He can whip us up a fantastic meal where it will be served to us by the pool.
 
We each had a plate in our hands that were given to us by servers at the start of the buffet line. Holding her plate above her head she said in a whiny like voice:

VALENTINA: I feel like we’re begging for food. It’s gonna take us a lifetime.

Contrary to what she said the line was moving along at a good pace and was organized quite well.

VALENTINA: There really ought to be a separate line for us.

ME: We’re almost there.

VALENTINA: Are you excited about seeing daddy tonight?

ME: Beyond words.

Valentina’s daddy spent Christmas Eve on Sandbox Island where The Host threw her annual holiday bash. I received an invitation as I do every year but politely declined. I’m not going to lie, her parties are a complete snooze~fest. I last attended one in 2010 and dysfunctional doesn’t even begin to cover it. If you missed reading about that party click here for those tremendously written entries. Reminiscing about that party made waiting in line a little more bearable for Valentina and before we knew it our turn had arrived.

One of the highlights of going to the beach on December 25th is the arrival of Santa Claus. The jolly guy arrives and passes out chocolates and candy canes regardless if you’ve been naughty or nice. So was I naughty or nice? Hmm, let’s just say I fall somewhere in between. For the past couple of years I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing a tropical Santa, only the traditional looking one who insists on dressing from head to toe in flannel. A sweaty Santa on the beach.....Ick! I prefer my Kris Kringle in tropical form: dressed in a Tommy Bahama shirt, shorts and flip~flops! 

Dinner took place at sunset. Valentina’s daddy reserved a lovely table for the 3 of us out on the restaurant patio with the entourage nearby. As lovely as the night was going Valentina had her list of complaints starting with how it was possible for such a lavish place to permit some of the guests who were dressed like they rolled out of bed?

VALENTINA: Aren’t they aware of the dress code?

A sign was posted on the doors of the dining establishment:“Proper Attire Is Required. No Beach Wear.” I looked around to see what some of the guests were wearing. Many were dressed very nicely, others not so much. The Nicely Dressed versus the Not So Nicely Dressed did however have one thing in common– they enjoyed chomping down on the chef’s special, lobster. I could tell by the look on my best friend’s face she was a tad repulsed. As the main course was being served to us Valentina had yet another question:

VALENTINA: Why isn’t management forcing everyone to abide by the dress code?

The answer-- hey it’s all about the money, right? The majority of the guests appeared to be North American and they all carried US dollars. She kept on critiquing that the toast Valentina’s daddy was trying to make was delayed for several minutes until she was done with her new role as Fashion Police correspondent, and when she was finally done I silently said, thank you. I understood her point of view. You’re dining in a graceful restaurant, how hard is it to retire the beach look and change into something dressy?

Midway through dinner I received a text from sister. She mentioned she had sent 4 messages but I didn’t receive any of them. Hmm, how weird but it didn’t take long to find out why.

VALENTINA: Her messages came while you were passed out. I heard your phone go off, checked to see who it was and then deleted the texts.

ME: Oh my God! She’s probably worried sick why I haven’t texted her back. Why would you do that?!

I immediately sent sister a message letting her know I was still alive.

VALENTINA: Mi amor, relax. I sent her a text from my phone and let her know you were having the time of your life and.......

There was a momentary pause.


ME: And–

VALENTINA: And I told her not to bother you. Can you please pass the salt, daddy?

ME: Why?

VALENTINA: Because my steak needs seasoning.

ME: Oh good grief not that. I mean why would you text my sister something like that?

Valentina’s daddy then spoke. He turned to Valentina.

V's DADDY: Before you answer her-

And then he looked at me.


V’s DADDY: What’s this about you passing out?

Again, I DID NOT pass out. I explained what happened and satisfied with my answer we turned our attention to Valentina.

VALENTINA: Oh, is it my turn now?

Oh boy, there is was-- the Cheshire grin! It appeared after her question. I was wondering how long it would take to re-emerge again.

VALENTINA: Why is she bothering you today?

ME: She wished me a Merry Christmas and asked if I was alright. I would hardly call that bothersome.

VALENTINA: She knows you’re alright. Besides you think the Gringo would let anything happen to you? Before you start lecturing me about the “G word” turn around and look at the guy sitting at 3 o’clock. 

I did exactly what she said. At 3 o’clock was a table of 5 individuals from the US. {I detected they were from the states because of their East Coast dialect} I turned back around in my seat.

VALENTINA: From now on you better not give me anymore grief when I say the word “Gringo.”

So who exactly was sitting at 3 o’clock. As I wrote, “a table of 5 individuals.” I guess I should mention one of whom was wearing a tee that had the following words written across it:

“HUG A GRINGO.”

I couldn't help but giggle.

****

My loyal and dear readers, it’s finally Friday.

Whatever your plans are have a fabulous weekend.~x

XOXOXOXO,
Cocaine Princess