Mostly Day 2

Jimmy and I slept in, slightly affected by mild hangovers from our wild night of wine and gambling the night before. I slipped out to the lobby early to make reservations for dinner for the following evening (most of the restaurants require reservations, some of which fill up early in the morning), and to buy a US$21 bottle of sunblock. Yes, my friends, I, the perennially poor lives-like-a-broke-college-student Ryan, spent $21 on a bottle of sunblock. I only had about a tablespoon left in the old bottle I kept from last summer - especially after Vince and my trip to the Grand Canyon - and I thought Jimmy and I would need reinforcements. So $21 of the last $100 in my bank account went towards sunblock.

Keeping that in mind, we headed out straight for the beach, hitting the sand around 11AM. Jimmy used a drop of sunblock on his face and neck and proceeded to burn himself to a crisp by 3PM. Yes, we sat outside in the Caribbean sun during the least sun-friendly hours of the day and JIMMY DIDN'T WEAR SUNBLOCK. So by the end of the afternoon, Jimmy was read from his toenails to his neck. Due to the slight bit of sunblock he DID use on his face and neck, he ended up with a ring of red around his neck and shoulders, remaining pale from there up.

Mother Nature's little joke on him occurred when for the rest of our vacation, the sun didn't come back out again and he was forced to go home with an uneven burn, despite all his attempts to be shirtless and absorb the sunlight reflected off of the clouds. The sun seemed to be saying, "It just wasn't meant to be, little Jimmy."

Much to the chagrin of one of our Outback Safari members, I even managed to have a little adventure all my own on the beach that Tuesday. For the first time in my life, I sunbathed topless. I figured, "What the heck! All the Europeans don't seem to give a crap, and why on earth would I try to please that one ignorant blockhead from Texas anyway?!!!" So, in an attempt to avoid tan lines, I went with the birthday suit plus bikini bottom look. Mother Nature's HA-HA on me was that I only developed one itsy-bitsy shade darker of a tan. I probably wouldn't have gotten tan lines if I tried, what with my 30SPF sunblock on.

The most amusing part of our hours in the sun was the half hour or so that Jimmy actually convinced me to go into the beachside pool. Of course, we jumped in and headed directly for the in-pool bar, where we were greatly amused by the bartender who only growled and catcalled at me:

Me: "Can I have a bloody mary please...por favor, un bloody mary?"
Bartender: "Grrrrr....." (in that rolling your tongue, happy to see you kind of way)
Jimmy: "I'll have the same. UN BLOODY MARY, POR FAVOR." (his Spanish spoken so slowly and obviously that even a drunk Texan could understand him, the bartender still growling) "You are so funny; you remind me of Ricky from The Lucille Ball Show. Grrrrrrrrrr....."
Bartender: "Grrrrrrr...."
Me: "Gracias. Um...Jimmy...shouldn't we go drink this somewhere else in the pool, it's not warm here in the shade..."
Jimmy: "He's funny."

Eventually, I got Jimmy away from our own little Ricky, with very little affrontery to my virgin sensibilities.

The other amusement was the group of several obviously drunk Spaniards at the poolside bar, who moved between singing the Macarena at the top of their lungs, to shouting, "Me llamo Fernando, Fernando Cortes!!!" Or something really close to that. It certainly made for some interesting background noise for my book reading.

Later that evening, we found our way to the spa and made appointments for Thursday for massages. We also found our way back down to the beach to have a quick massage poolside. The massage techniques are so completely different in the Dominican Republic - I am not really sure that these people go to school for massage therapy at all. I haven't had many professional massages in my life, but the American massages I've received seem to be a lot more educated. And the massages we got that afternoon were much too soft - I like to feel like I've really paid for something. However, all that being said, I still enjoyed having someone rub massage oils into my back while listening to the waves crash on the sand and feel the ocean breeze.

Now that it is a week and a half from our vacation, I can't remember when we met our friends, the Canadians, but it was either before or after the beach massage. Steve and Adrien, I believe, were their names. They joined us in the hot tub in the spa and we chatted for a while. They were part of a group of 42 Canadians who came down for a couple's wedding. They had all these ice-breaker activities planned for the week, group sports, yadda, yadda, yadda. It all sounded like a lot of fun - even if I can't ever imagine making all my friends and family travel abroad for my wedding! Anyway, they were a lot of fun and Jimmy and I had a wonderful time later trying to determine if they were gay or straight.

Our basic conclusion was that there certainly weren't enough gay boys at the Resort to compliment and harass Jimmy, to boost his ego. Granted, there were plenty of women lavishing him with attention, but he tends to not notice that kind of stuff from the fairer sex. Instead, it was a week all about me being overly catered to by the male staff... not that I'm complaining, mind you, but I would have rather have been overly catered to by Anthony for a week.

Our day on the beach was, of course, cut short by Jimmy's sunburn and our dinner reservations. Traveling with a gay man means that there must always be time for another shower and primping before dinner. So we're back to the apartment, admiring the columns and catching up on our Bush inauguration.

Speaking of which, let me just point out that the priest at the ceremony concluded with something to the effect of, "...and with due respect to people of all other faiths, I offer this prayer to Our Lord, Jesus Christ." Was I the only one listening??? First of all, having a priest or monk or rabbi or whatever at the inauguration certainly must violate the separation of church and state - not that this administration has taken ANY pains to uphold that! Secondly, isn't that only slightly ironic? I assume that he was serious when he made that statement, but am I the only one who can't see his logic?!! How is it at all respectful of all other faiths to offer up a prayer to Jesus? How is it respectful to all other faiths to necessarily pray at all in this kind of setting? I know it's just a small detail, when so many other things are wrong with this administration, but all the little things do add up and I only need one example of the ignorance of this administration to make my point, no matter how small. Really, what the hell!!!

So anyway, Jimmy got himself all worked up watching CNN while I was sponging the massage oil off my body, and it took me several drinks to calm him down and completely change the subject.

Actually, I just realized that this CNN debacle occurred on Wednesday night, NOT Tuesday, but the message is still the same: BUSH SUCKS. Those of us who have a certain fondness for personal freedom, and the "right to pursue happiness" without infringing upon the rights of others of course, are having a huge problem with another four years of a man who wishes to impose his will on us and take away basic freedoms. What woman could vote for a man who wishes to make us second-class citizens again? What military personnel and their families could vote for a man who sent us to war for no good reason and no longer feels the need to give us one? What self-respecting citizen could vote for a man who works toward undermining the rights of gays, women, and non-Christians? What true Christian could, with the basic tenets of love, forgiveness, and tolerance, vote for a man who preaches disrespect and non-tolerance for life-views outside of that which he is comfortable? I completely understand why Jimmy was so upset, but I must admit that I refused to let that man ruin my vacation. After all, we were in another country, far away from his evil grasp....

So, what we really watched on Tuesday night was this really terrible 80's movie with Marky Mark and Reese Witherspoon, Fear. What is funny is that Jimmy and I have the same weakness - we will watch anything, no matter how cheesy, if it is in movie format. Although it is kind of amusing to watch Marky Mark play a psychotic teenager...

Unfortunately, we had to cut the movie short and keep up with our dinner appointment at El Pescador. This restaurant is in a building right on the beach, where they have a lunch-time buffet in the afternoons. During the day, the building just has one buffet, but at night, they separate out the rooms into three different upscale dining areas - or three restaurants. During the day, the chairs are plastic and the tables run-down; at night, the chairs have cushions and the tables are covered in gleaming white linens, with real cloth napkins.

So we had wonderful conversation with a side of lobster and shrimp, and an even bigger helping of wine. As we were still pretty worn out from traveling there, staying up so late the night before, and spending all day in the healing rays of the sun with a drink at our sides, we skipped the Miss Bavaro Princess competition and went straight to bed.