2nd Honeymoon in Mexico. Part 1.
“What? What is going on?” I said as I sat up in bed in shock. All I could hear was Fat Joe and Nelly ‘Get it Poppin’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX7_xeoB_fE blaring through the windows of the guest house Poptart and I lived in.
“What the hell?!” Poptart said as he jumped out of bed and looked out our bedroom windows that overlooked the 163 freeway. “Stacy, there is some guy down on the freeway with a turntable and giant speakers!” he exclaimed while pointing down the hill.
“What?” I said as I jumped out of bed to join him in the quest to find the source of the music, which was now putting me into a full-blown panic attack. “Oh crap Poptart, It’s the Rock and Roll Marathon.”
Now I had lived in San Diego off and on for years but had completely forgotten about the Rock and Roll Marathon. Probably because it had never really affected me until now. Mostly the marathon had only been a driving inconvenience for me. But now that we lived in the heart of University Heights we were living smack dab over the course and had the honor of hearing the sound check at 5:45 a.m. Yeeeeeeeaaaah. Not only that but the DJ was pretty much stroking his ego as well. Saying things like, “That’s right, that’s right,” and “Come on now.”
I already know what those of you from San Diego are going to say, “But it’s for a good cause Stacy, it benefits Leukemia.” And I agree it is for a good cause. But what about all the elderly people with heart problems that probably died that morning to the blaring sound of Fat Joe and Nelly. I can just see them now sleeping soundly and then grabbing their hearts as the last image that passes through their minds is Nelly’s abs and fine-ass face. Oh wait…no that would be me. No, what the old people would be thinking was, “What is this crap I’m listing to, and why do I have to die to it?” But I was too busy having a full-blown panic attack to be worried about old people.
Luckily the hubby and I had already planned on getting out of the house early that day. We were flying to Puerto Nuevo to celebrate our second Honeymoon. Because the one the year before was so much fun we wanted to do it again and again. But we didn’t have to leave for another couple of hours, and I had to get away from the music. Don’t get me wrong: normally I love the music that the DJ was playing. Just not that loud. And certainly not that early. So I kept my fingers on my neck to monitor my pulse and headed for the bathroom on the other side of the house.
I called this particular bathroom the “Panic Room” because that is where I spent a good majority of my panic attacks when they were at their worst. As I sat on the floor and tried to catch my breath, Poptart walked in and noticed that the shower and the sink were going full blast.
“Stacy, why are you running all the water?” he asked in a sympathetic voice.
“I was hoping it would block out the music so I could calm down,” I told him.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. I just nodded. Did I have a choice?
After a Xanax and a shower I was feeling a little better but the music just kept coming and coming along with the “That’s right, that’s right. And the “Come on now’s.” And I was about to blow a gasket.
“I can’t take it anymore. I’m not kidding. We have to go to the airport early,” I told Poptart.
“But our plane doesn’t leave for another three hours,” he said looking at me like I had just requested him to get a vasectomy.
“I don’t care. I would rather sit in a quiet airport for three hours than listen to this for one more minute. Please, Poptart I have to get out of here,” I pleaded. Being the loving husband he is, he complied with my demands and called us a cab so we could break out of marathon central.
Once we got into the cab and started driving away from the course I started calming down. It also turned out to our benefit that we left so early because that part of San Diego was pretty much closed down because of the marathon. So it took us twice as long to get to the airport. So see, sometimes panic attacks can be a good thing.
Poptart and I went through security without a hitch and all we had to do now was sit and wait. Poptart read while I just let the Xanax take over my body and tried to get a little sleep in. When our plane did arrive we were ready to go. All we had to do now was sit back, relax and wait for the booze kitty to come by with some cocktails. Because we were officially on vacation!
After we landed we grabbed our bags and stood outside the airport waiting for the shuttle to Puerto Nuevo when I said something I probably should have kept to myself.
“Well at least I got the pot in without getting caught.”
“What?!” What did you just say? You smuggled pot into Mexico? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had pot on you!” Poptart ranted on and on with huge eyes and what I was now sure was his version of a panic attack.
“You know why I didn’t tell you? Look at you. You’re a Buster. You’re totally freaking out. You look like you’re about to vomit, and that’s after the hard part is over. What would you have done before we got on the plane? You are not meant to be a criminal my friend. If I had told you about the pot you probably would have thrown me under the bus once we got to security.”
“Stacy I can’t believe you did that!” he said. “Where did you hide it?” At this question I just raised my eyebrows and started to tell him when he cut me off with a “You know, never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“You’re not even a little curious?” I asked him smiling my devilish grin.
“No,” he said curtly and then walked towards the shuttle with the large sign that said Puerto Nuevo in it.
“You really don’t want to know? Not even a little bit?”
“Just tell me you won’t try and take it back out of Mexico.”
“Poptart, I’m not an idiot!” Smuggling drugs INTO Mexico is one thing, but smuggling them out is a whole different ballgame. At this Poptart just shook his head and tried to pretend he didn’t know me for the rest of the ride to the hotel.
Once we got to the hotel and up to our room we opened up our curtains to soak up the amazing view. It wasn’t anywhere as close to as breath taking as the one we had in Jamaica, but it was still pretty spectacular. Our room overlooked the pool and we also had a clear view of the ocean. The pool itself was pretty remarkable. It was huge and had a large island in the middle of it that you could go and lay out on while the hotel staff brought you drinks. After we checked out our view we made it down to the bar that bordered the beach and had a few tequila shots and some beers and then went out and checked out the beach view. Also very impressive.
But it was already pretty late in the day and we had been up since 5:45 that morning so Poptart and I decided to take it easy that night and just have some dinner and drinks. We ate at the casual restaurant in the hotel and had some traditional Mexican food. Which was really yummy. We had opted for all-inclusive again because it had worked out so well for us the last time. This hotel was no Royal Plantation but it would do.
After dinner we wanted to show all the other guests just how mature we were so we proceeded to get really drunk and then have hand stand contests in the swimming pool. I’m not sure who won but we had a damn good time. We were in love, we were in Mexico, we were the only ones in the swimming pool, and we were about to play a rousing game of Marco Polo. So far the vacation was perfect.
To be continued….
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