Ever since we came home from our little vacation, people have been asking me for a tale…you know something funny that happened on the island. “We were basic beach bums…” I explain, “We didn’t even take any excursions, we stayed at the resort…nothing funny there, right?” Yet they’ve persisted, “Something must have to have struck you funny…”
Easter Sunday morning we woke up fifteen minutes before sunrise and made our way down to the beach. One of the things my husband and I enjoy doing on vacation is taking long walks at sunrise before the hot sun makes the walks too unbearably hot. Plus as a perk, we get to witness a glorious sunrise.
As we walked among the sea of chaisse lounges, we came across a beautifully luxurious site: beds lined up perpendicular to the ocean in front of us. “My cousin Monie told me there is nothing better than lying on these at the beach.” My husband said as we came up along side them. We longingly looked at the mass of pillows gathered on the beds and their sheets as they billowed in the breeze. “Let’s make sure we reserve one of these..” I said to my husband.
Reaching up to take his ball cap off his head to place on the bed in reservation, he stopped mid stream and instead reached down, grabbed and then held up an opened outer condom wrapper. We both nervously laughed and said “Oh great” before I took another step and found the spent condom lying atop the sand, like it was nothing more than seaweed. “And there’s the condom!” I said immediately grossed out. Looking at my hubby, then to the bed then back to the condom we both decided the luxury beds were not for us.
“Ewww seriously?” I said grossed out. “Why can’t people pick up after themselves…?” My husband asked the universe. “Can you imagine the pick up line at the club? Let’s make love under the stars without sand in our clothing? Blech!” I said. “Well so much for that fantasy…” My husband said and we laughed.
We never went near those beds the rest of our stay–though we watched plenty of others do so. “I wonder if they flip those foam pads over every now and again?” I wondered aloud. “I don’t think even that would help…” My hubby replied and I agreed.
Luxury is highly overrated.