Big Dave blooms where he is planted and the resort is no exception. He comes alive, alive I tell you in the midst of unidentified strangers, all of them drawing strength and vitality from each new handshake and how do you do. I on the other hand feel that same energy draining down my legs and out the tips of my toes with any social encounter and then I have an intense need to go back to my room and revive my rockets.
Dave stays on stage all day and has volunteered for reggae dancing class, straw hat weaving, glass-bottom boat viewing, and a game requiring participants to throw water balloons at fully clothed people. The guy is dizzy with excitement over the very socialness of this place and today he is going to be a guest at some person's wedding. He is willing to trade beach time for free cake and I don't share that opinion.
Did I mention the man flirts? But then all men flirt, and not with just women. Bosses, bowling league buddies, the guys in front of them at Starbuck's and the list goes on. Men need to get the edge no matter what the social alignment.
This guy has three older sisters who swear the sun rises and sets on their golden boy and he has a low gravely voice that oozes Barry White. If we're sitting in a crowded movie theatre and I ask him to pass the popcorn every female head in the place will swivel. Really.
But now I am pounding on the door of a restroom and no one bothered to leave a sign saying this a faulty door, it jams and cannot be opened from the inside. I can hear my significant other chatting up the cute little Asian chef a few yards over, or is it cheffette? And she is a coquettish thing, all doey eyes and plump pouty mouth. He can't seem to hear my shrill screams over her soft lilting voice but at least I remembered to bring my drink.
Did I mention the man flirts? But then all men flirt, and not with just women. Bosses, bowling league buddies, the guys in front of them at Starbuck's and the list goes on. Men need to get the edge no matter what the social alignment.
This guy has three older sisters who swear the sun rises and sets on their golden boy and he has a low gravely voice that oozes Barry White. If we're sitting in a crowded movie theatre and I ask him to pass the popcorn every female head in the place will swivel. Really.
But now I am pounding on the door of a restroom and no one bothered to leave a sign saying this a faulty door, it jams and cannot be opened from the inside. I can hear my significant other chatting up the cute little Asian chef a few yards over, or is it cheffette? And she is a coquettish thing, all doey eyes and plump pouty mouth. He can't seem to hear my shrill screams over her soft lilting voice but at least I remembered to bring my drink.
3 comments:
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Are you out yet??
Dave is a rock star. But then again all Daves are.
Dave, you don't ooze Barry White, more like Donald Duck and Ariza, I share your pain and then some. God love us all!
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