Lots of stories to catch up with, so here's one from our first day in Puerto Plata.
After our flight from Newark, Kathy and took the shuttle from the Puerto Plata airport to our resort. Our room wasn't quite ready for us, so we sat at the bar and the bartender (a vivacious and funny woman named Miriam) served us drinks of increasing strength. Mine was a rum/vodka/orange juice concoction called a Happy Happy, which certainly had that effect. The fact that we were finally on vacation helped, too.
Eventually, the porter took our bags to our room and we started to get set up there. And a little while after that, we discovered we hadn't locked the door, because the maid walked right into the room. Now, to spare my honey any undue embarrassment, instead of saying what we were doing, I'll just list the various things we weren't doing.
- We were not playing Scrabble.
- We were not watching TV.
- We were not filling out Sudoku boxes with random numbers.
- We were not not having sex.
That about covers it, I think.
Anyway, the maid just stands there, speaking very quickly in Spanish, most likely explaining how very embarrassed she is. But she just stands there. And talks and talks. And then, finally, runs out of the room. She's mortified, I'm sure. And Kathy and I burst out laughing.
"That's it," I say. "By the time the week is over, we're banging a maid." Kathy automatically fist-bumped my outstretched hand, and then said, "I can't believe I just fist-bumped that."
But she did.* And for the rest of the week, our maid was all smiles whenever she saw us. Even when we were dressed.
*Although we didn't, of course.