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Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Chapter 22, or 21/31/35 and no, those are not my measurements...part 1 of 5

            In May [2009], we (my sister, mom, dad, Uncle, Aunt and me) went to Turtle Bay in Oahu for Mother’s Day.  The Ex’s birthday often fell on Mother’s Day so it was not easy to forget after ten years of combined celebrations.  I like to use birthdays and anniversaries of any kind as a reason to cocktail.  So, my sister and I got dressed up and went to The Bay Club.  It’s a really cute place with shuffleboard tables and a dance floor and most importantly, cocktails.  There wasn’t much happening, but good music was playing so we ordered some cocktails and did a little dancing, even though we were the only people on the dance floor.
            After a few songs we went back to the bar to order another round and a big group of young guys walked in.  Naturally, they crowded around us.  They were marines who were leaving in two days for boot camp.  I was really hoping one of them would say, “I ship out tomorrow so we better make tonight count,” but I think they might have been too young to know that cliché.  Some of them weren’t even old enough to drink.  One of them starting flirting with me and I asked him if he was even old enough to be in a bar. 
            “You look about 19,” I told him.  He said he was 21.  I said, “I don’t believe you, show me your ID.”  He showed it to me and he was, in fact, 21.  “Aw, you’re just a baby!” I said. 
            “I’m old enough to fight for my country,” he said.  Touché.
            The bar was closing so the guys invited us back to their villa.  I said to my 21 year old, “I don’t even know you, why would I go back to your villa?  I’m not stupid!”
Cut to:

            When we got back to their villa my 21 year old told me I had to see the view from the balcony and took me outside.  The view was quite nice, actually.  It was also quite nice when he stood behind me and started kissing my neck.  It’s like he knew I’m a sucker for kissing or something.  He kept telling me I was beautiful and asking if I knew how beautiful I was.  How could I not reward those comments with more kissing?  Then I would remember how young he was and stop and say, “No more kissing, you’re just a child!”  He even tried to take off his shirt and I said, “No topless kissing, you’re too young!”  I kept calling him a child and he kept calling me beautiful and we kept kissing. 
           Then, after yet another instance where I called him a child, my boob started vibrating.  (In lieu of carrying a purse, I had put my money, ID, Chap Stick and cell phone in my Big Booby Bra.  I don’t have Big Boobies so there’s room for other stuff in there.)  My phone was buzzing because I was receiving text messages.  From my mom.  I’m sitting there calling this 21 year old guy a child, yet I’m the 31 year old whose mommy is texting wondering where she is and when she’s coming home.
           I officially had to stop kissing now.  I felt like I was in High School and staying out past curfew.  We had to get out of there.  One of the guys walked us downstairs and I asked him what my 21 year old’s name was. 
            He said, “We call him Edwards.” 
            I said, “That sounds like a last name.” 
            He said, “We don’t know his first name.” 
            Okay then.  Good luck to Edwards and his friends, I wish you didn’t have to fight but I’m glad you're keeping us safe.

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