Laughs

We're back: returned, revived and recovered from a 4-day vacation in Captiva, Florida. I teased Craig while we lay by the pool nearing the end of our stay, I may need to turn this into a 3-part post (regarding our vacation) because of the amount of content I'd love to chronicle. It's too bad I couldn't post on location! The adventure began last Saturday morning at the refreshing 3 o'clock hour. Our flight would not leave until 8 a.m., but blend into the equation an hour and a half drive to Washington D.C., from where we had booked our tickets, and there you have it: the early bird special. Other than half sleeping in the shower and then stealing a quick nap while Craig drove us, it really wasn't too terrible. We made it to Reagan International in record time, only to find that the Airtran portion of the terminal is extremely depressing. Nevertheless, our flight landed us in Ft. Myers around 10, and several of the others (using first names and nicknames in this post not to expose the debauchery of Craig's friends but more or less because it's easier to recall that way) including Djay, Diana, Chris, Corey, 40 (nickname, clearly), Brooke (Corey's girlfriend), Johnny, Liz, Renee and Kevin (a friend of Diana's and the respective boyfriend) had all landed approximately the same time as we. There was some rental car chaos, some waiting, and about half an hour or so later we were all piled into 3 vehicles to drive the hour or so from Ft. Myers to Captiva. Once nearer Captiva, we stopped at the package liquor store to stock up on dangerous amounts of alcohol, ranging from beer to tequila to vodka, someone even splurged on Cointreau, Sprite, Jack Daniels, rum - am I leaving anything out? As much as I missed out on college spring breaks consisting of heavy drinking, too much sun, lethal sleep deprivation and inexplicable amounts of money spent, this vacation lent me an idea of what I missed. We arrived at the house, Di's parents' place, near the noon hour, and of course, for Craig and me, our first impression was one of amazement. The house was beautiful, impeccably decorated, tastefully arranged, and huge. Craig and I had wound up subject to last room selection: King-sized bed, television, huge closet and bathroom with a shower the size of our entire bathroom at home, but no gulf view. Craig kept saying to me, We got the worst room and it's like the nicest room we've ever stayed in! None of this was actually established, however, until after lunch, because the cleaning staff had not finished tidying up the house, so we unloaded our bags into the garage and wandered up the beach to the Mucky Duck (room selection happened after the fact). The Mucky Duck, while somewhat overpriced, turned out to be our weekend hang out. It is a bar but moreso an eaterie on the beach, a family establishment. The bottom of the menu reads, Children, if left unattended and running around, will be served Espresso and a free puppy! After lunch the real fun began. We went back to the house, all of us already either on our third beer or nearing (some ahead of others) and everyone suited up and hit the pool deck. The weather was gorgeous, beers went down smoothly, and everyone was having such a good time. Mid to late afternoon, Craig's old college roommate Dustin (Djay's brother) arrived with Brian, the two last of the group to arrive that day. More pool time, more beer, pool, sun, beer, and a whole afternoon of laughter. That group, when they all get together, are just one long string of witticisms. Maybe I'm overappreciative of a good sense of humor, or I'm just not exposed to the amount of it that pours from such a large group, but I found myself doubling over with laughter on several occasions through the course of our vacation. Evening brought on wild overstuffed golf cart rides to a place to eat (not the Mucky Duck this time, but another similar type beach spot) and a lot of food, including breaded alligator bites and seafood quesadillas. Saturday night led right into Sunday for more of the same, this time with two hours spent on the beach in the morning (Craig and I began the trend and others joined in pairs or as individuals); Chris dug a 3-foot hole in the sand with a plastic claw, the others sculpted a hideous naked beach babe in the sand and Brooke and I went on to create her a sea shell bikini; plus later, there was the addition of a margarita bar by the pool, which proved to be dangerous for all involved. Sunday evening we grilled burgers and brats with sides of chips and potato salad. I took a break from the action Sunday night to watch our regular shows on the big screen television in the living room. By Monday morning, it felt as though we wouldn't survive another extended day of more of the same. So Monday morning found several members of the group hunched around the screen porch nursing hangovers with Bloody Mary's, Screwdrivers, and fancy Jamaican Sunset cocktails. Something termed "the shampoo effect" washed over us, which basically suggests the rinse and repeat formula of shampooing: the second round requires less alcohol for the same effect. Most of us were back to tipsy and bubbly before 11 in the morning. But I imagine if you're not going to let go a little and indulge on a vacation where there's very little else than beach, poolside, good friends and intoxication, you're never going to let go. By noon we had all eaten leftover cold cuts from the previous afternoon, leftover hot dogs, potato salad and we were gathered again around the pool for another afternoon of Coronas and plain lazy. At this point a gentleman by the nickname of Killer and his fiance Victoria arrived for their segment of vacation. Since I haven't said so yet, the background of the week is that Di's parents own this home and rent it out for 10 grand plus per week. Djay and Di (married last June) decided to invite everyone down for as long or short as any of us could stay. So, all thanks to Djay and Di for the relaxing experience. Anyway, following a whole afternoon of sun et al., we cleaned up and returned for dinner at the Mucky Duck. The place was packed; we wound up waiting an hour and a half outside in the Florida breeze against the gulf for tables. But it was worth the wait: Craig and I each ordered the Chef's Pasta, which tasted incredible after far too many drinks through the day. Monday night turned into my favorite of them all. Chris, Corey, Craig, Dustin, Djay, Brooke, 40 and Killer gathered around one table on the screened porch to play poker. The others of us remaining upright: Johnny, Kevin, Victoria, Di, Brian and I decided to continue the tradition from the previous night (which I had only experienced briefly in between television shows) and play 3-man, which everyone seemed to know but me (my drinking experiences in college did not include as many drinking games as others, I'm beginning to learn!) This game, in a nutshell, consisted of rolling dice to dictate various rules and drinks to be taken. I wound up rolling single 1's several times, which licensed me to make up new rules. 1. If you get up from the table, drink. 2. If you use your hands for anything but drinking or smoking, drink. 3. If you address someone, you must always use that person's first name, or else, drink. Things were happening in fun force but evidently Brian decided we weren't reaping enough benefit from the game, therefore he decided to institute the No Teeth Rule when he rolled two 1's. This rule is as it suggests: No teeth baring, and if you do, drink. Picture, yes, 5 grown adults, nearing 30 or just beyond, lips taut over teeth during smiling, conversation and beer sipping. It was all too much. I know I laughed during the hour of this rule harder than I have in succession in a long time. There were so many other stray parts to this evening, including but not limited to finally immersing ourselves, me, Di, Johnny, Brian and Kevin, in the hot tub on the upstairs balcony, only to find that the temperature was at its peak, 104 degrees (combined with our sunblazed skin created a round of discomfort), and later, raiding the refrigerator for any remains of the past 2 days (I found the green olives, which are basically not permitted in my home, as Craig detests olives, and I'd say I ate my fair share, while someone else ate cold leftover dogs, someone else tried out potato salad, and so on and so forth). We ended the evening only upon finding everyone else had gone to sleep already and it had reached 3:42 the next morning. I woke up in one sore piece, exhausted and feeling relieved that our travel home day had arrived. What a perfect way to unwind before the next few weeks hit us hard. What a perfect reunion with Craig's friends: they are wonderful people and I know he misses them often.*Tuesday's travel, while I dragged around a pretty upset stomach, was easy. We even made it home last night to catch the majority of American Idol (please, KB, stop admitting to watching that. And dear network, Please let American Idol be over soon so I can get back to my normal routine and stop clinging to the television for such smut!) Thanks again to Djay and Di, thanks to Florida, and thanks to New York City, who will soon provide me with my own personal most unique experience to date. And to Craig, thanks more to you than anyone else for toting me around.