No need for words. Very random moments. I’ll save the talking and long-winded(ness) for my next few posts chronicling my time in Tokyo and Okinawa.
No need for words. Very random moments. I’ll save the talking and long-winded(ness) for my next few posts chronicling my time in Tokyo and Okinawa.
A few weeks ago, I created a survey regarding people who have engaged in sexual activity while on vacation. I was curious to find out the circumstances behind these encounters, and I received a small amount of responses. I have not conducted extensive research analysis since my Thesis and since I neither want or need a reminder of those days, I will just post the responses and provide general thoughts.
As you can see, most of the respondents were over the age of over 25 when they had their encounter. I found this interesting as I assumed that sex on vacation is something that you do during your wild spring break college years. I suppose with age comes a willingness to let your sexual “guard down” so to speak.
The responses were almost evenly split between the encounter taking place in another country (6) to another state (5). I’m willing to bet at least one person got it in in Miami.
The majority heated up their hotel room (while making prudes like myself lose sleep or giggle outside their door). For the four people who apparently got it on in public, I wonder how many were on a beach. I’ll be honest, I always wanted to do that and I will one day…
For the one person who obviously regrets their encounter, my apologies boo.
This wasn’t surprising. Had I gone through with my thoughts (see part II) my response to this question would have definitely been between “the mood was right” or “he was fine!”
Boy oh boy…you guys are brave. Like I said in part I and II…everybody has Herpes to me. I will ever get over this hangup? Honestly speaking I don’t know.
It better have been.
I’m surprised the majority said that once was enough. I would have thought once that cherry was popped (cue drums) it wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
All nine people who answered this question believe that some people have no problems with sex on vacation because they are “sexually liberated.” Sex without guilt, second thoughts, or shame. However, I do wonder. Is there a line in the sand? Is someone who had an encounter just once looked at in a a better light than someone who partakes in such encounters fairly frequently?
Twice as many respondents stated that people should try it at least once. I found that interesting because I was expecting most to state that they felt it should be up to the individual.
We all have different mindsets when it comes to sex. While it is a big deal to some, it merely a common occurrence- a fact of life if you will, to others. Sex is a part of life. An important part of life. Despite my own hesitations, I totally get it. You could be in a magical city or a warm, tropical place. Ocean breeze hitting, waves crashing, and two consenting adults decide they are going to express their desires (if only temporary) in the physical sense. While it may not be for me at this point in my life (or perhaps ever), who am I to judge?
I will say this. It is my hope that if one decides to have hot sex on a passport….
Make sure that passport is covered.
Let me preface this entry by stating that it will be rather short and serve as a background to Part II, which will delve deeper into the dynamics of sexual activity with people you are unfamiliar with while away on vacation…. by way of survey and Q&A (since I can assure you I know nothing about it personally).
Miami Beach, 2014.
Like every other time I’m in South Beach, I rented a bike to go for a ride. On 17th and Collins, I took a brief break (after nearly falling on my ass) when two women approach me. As I pivot to get back to my ride, one of them turn ever so slightly to say…
“Can you ride me?”
Nonetheless, I smile, laugh, and continue on my bike ride. Unbeknownst to me, I happen to be in the area during Pride weekend (not that it matters, but still).
And no, I did not take her up on her offer. Can’t blame homegirl for trying though…I was looking cute.
I experienced another example of sexual innuendo and folly in Nairobi at a club. I was with two friends I made (see “No Sleep in Nairobi Part I“) just listening to music and talking when a rather, “strong” looking woman approached us. I don’t recall her name, but she was plump and intimidating. She looked as though she could be a Bertha, so I’m gonna call her Bertha. Yep. Her name was Bertha.
Standing nearly between my male friend’s legs, she asks whether we are enjoying ourselves. We respond that we were, then in turn ask her the same. She turns to me, rubs my back a little, and says
“Waiting for the kids to leave.”
Looking around nervously, we reply “well what happens then?”
“The adults will play.”
I was afraid to ask what she meant by such a statement, and I’m afraid to even think of what it means now. In case you have your doubts as to the validity of this story, I present exhibit A…or should I say, S.E.X. I am in constant contact with my friends while on vacation and I informed them of this little conversation.
There was no need to pray for forgiveness as we hightailed it outta there before “playtime” commenced.
So why bring up these encounters? The answer is simple.
People like getting it in. Apparently, a good portion of those people like to either get in while on vacation, or get it in with people they know are on vacation.
I want to discuss it.
As a former flight attendant, I have been propositioned by men, women, straight women with a little alcohol in their system, co-workers, you name it. I’ve been invited to watch um, activities, and I’ve even been mistaken for a prostitute in Thailand.
Don’t ask. Some other time.
I’ve been asked more than once whether or not I have ever taken anyone up on their offer. To answer it frankly, HELL NO. I mean, I have encountered plenty of people that I found very attractive (and while I’m not a lesbian, I can appreciate a nice booty and/or pretty face). However, I just never had it in me to be so intimate with someone I didn’t know in any capacity, or just met days ago. Perhaps I’m missing out, I’m not sure. I’ll tell you what though. I’d like to pick the brains of some people who have “participated.” Please stay tuned for Part II
Sorry if you thought this post would be about me and my “sexcapades” btw. No such thing for me, being that I assume that everyone has Herpes…and not the kind of almost everyone does have either.
I read a story about a passenger that pooped so badly on a flight that it had to be turned around. While I definitely hollered at the story, I can’t imagine the horror the culprit must have felt knowing that their boo boo was the reason an entire plane made a U-turn. Do you know how serious a situation has to be to make the plane TURN around? Flights have been known to keep deceased people on a flight while it makes its way to the final destination.
Must have been one hell of a dump.
I will say that it has me thinking. Could I ever end up guilty of such a crime against toilets and the noses of my fellow passengers? Truth is, it may not be as far fetched as I’ve hoped.
You see, I have a true confession. When I’m overseas, it is really tough for me to poop.
I’m not sure what it is, but having a good, satisfying poop when I’m on vacation is like finding a unicorn who can moonwalk. On the flip side, sometimes you find yourself with a belly ache at the most inopportune times. Accordingly, there are a few essential things that I try to do or bring when I go away.
1. Make sure I clear myself out
Two years ago, I had a huge problem with going to the bathroom in Sierra Leone. Don’t get me wrong, I ate. I actually ate a lot. People cooked for my sister and I every single day for nearly two weeks. I just couldn’t do well, number two. In hindsight, this was partially my fault. Before leaving, I didn’t make much of an effort to clean my system out. Eight days passed without a single bowel movement. Not surprisingly, by the 9th day I was feeling AWFUL, sluggish, and not to mention I looked like I was about to enter my 2nd trimester. Mom gave me Citroma (which I’ve hated since childhood)…nothing.
Then she gave me these two white pills. I have no idea what they were called. Hell it could have been Viagra for all I know. The first few hours I felt absolutely nothing. The morning after?
OH. MY. LORD.
I’ll spare you the grim details, but let us just say I’ve never felt so relieved in my life.
After that vacation, I make it a point to drink something that will make me “go” before I head out. Therefore, I won’t have to deal with being nearly as “backed up.”
2. Bring something that makes you go
Put some prune juice (or any other drink that makes you go) in a TSA approved bottle just in case you need it.
3. Bring something that makes you DON’T (or at least eases your stomach)
As a traveler (besides your life of the lives of anyone you care about being in danger), there a few worse things than an aching, bubbling, and twisting belly on a flight. Pepto Bismol isn’t the best tasting product (in fact, I hate the taste) but it is a good thing to have with you to uh, “postpone things.” I recall one particularly terrible time that I was working a flight when my stomach began wrestling with itself. It took absolutely everything in my mind, body, and soul to not run to the nearest lavatory and show it no mercy.
We land, and most of the crew decides to walk around the airport grounds for some fresh air.
This was my chance.
The problem was, I knew it would be ARMAGEDDON for that lavatory once I was finished. I found myself frantically searching for something, ANYTHING that would aid me in this quest for comfort. Thankfully, found some stuff I could work with.
I’ll spare you the grim details, but let us just say I was REALLY creative to try and mask the smell.
Still didn’t stop one of the cleaners from screaming “GODDAMN! RASSSSSSSSS!!!! Who blew up the bathroom?”
California is a place that I don’t believe I will ever get tired of visiting. The vibe, the people, the weather…it seems as though every single time I touch down this weird Zen-like feeling comes over me.
This trip ended up being no different.
However, I wasn’t in the mood to hit the clubs, or party until a time where many New Yorkers are still finding parking to go to the parties. I wanted to chill out. I really just wanted to get away, if only for a little while. Unfortunately, getting to LA this time around was sooooooooo not Zen.
Sometimes flights (especially those with a connection) don’t end up so smoothly. My trip to Los Angeles was one of those times.
At first, things seemed like a standard trip. Getting to the airport was no big deal.
*Tucker’s travel tip* If you don’t have someone to drop you off/pick you up from the airport, you could find yourself paying a pretty penny for airport parking. You can avoid this by simply parking just outside of the airport (94th street for LGA and Rockaway Blvd for JFK). These areas usually have a fair amount of taxis around and should cost you no more than $10 each way (Uber is also an option). Keep in mind, I’m talking about NYC here….you might want to check out google maps in your city. I take no responsibility if you find yourself asking “Dude, where’s my car?”
Since I have Global Entry (which automatically includes TSA Pre-Check), getting through security was a breeze. Before I continue, let me get a true confession out of the way. I get a bit of a snobby kick out of passing all the poor souls on the long lines with the laptops out and bare feet on the ground. There I was, with my laptop in my bag, my belt on my waist, and my shoes still on my feet. Straight swaggin’ on folks. The joke was on me though, because my excitement began to wane when I saw the following:
5:50pm NOW 6:20pm.
Reeeallllll funny joke. Keep this is mind. At the airport, red font is bad. VERY BAD.
Now if I had a direct flight, I suppose it wouldn’t have been too big of a deal. However, I had a connection and a tight one at that. A connection that I was now sure to miss. It is safe to say that I was annoyed at this point, but I turn my head to see one of my favorite old co-workers from my airline days.
We hug and catch up. Turns out, we were both trying to head to Dallas in order to get to our final destination. Ever the observant comedian, Melissa tells me about all the intoxicated people she has laughed at since about 3pm. I definitely understood, as LaGuardia Airport can drive people to drink.
Luckily for Melissa, the gate agents she dealt with were helpful. Mine? Not so much (especially the one who looked like an aged Mr. Clean). She leaves on the flight before mine. I end up leaving over an hour late, not good news when the last flight from Dallas to Los Angeles is scheduled to leave a mere 20 mins after we land. After landing in Dallas, a gate agent informs us that the 9:55pm flight is ten gates away. Fortunately, I had the foresight to check the gate information to see that the 10:10 flight to LA leaves from the very next gate. So I had two choices, run at least five minutes straight to try and get on a flight that was leaving in 12 mins, or run to the next gate.
Wanna guess which route I took?
Four seats left, and I get the joy of the middle seat. No biggie, just as long as I don’t have to spend the night in Dallas. Even though flight attendants (and former flight attendants) tend to have your back (as I had a place to stay for the night), I just really wanted to get to LA without further disruption.
*Tucker’s Travel Tip* Try to get a seat near the front of the plane if you have a tight connection. Sometimes disembarking a plane can take longer than it should, and if you only have a few minutes to spare, sitting in 7E as supposed to 30A can be the difference between just making your flight and making your head damn near explode from frustration.
We touched down in Los Angeles at about 11:30pm Pacific Time. Since I had to gate check my carryon, I had another fifteen minutes tacked on to my journey. After getting back my luggage, I made my way to Avis rental car (I booked them through Priceline which saved me about $70). There, I had the good fortune to find myself on a line that was at least a 30 min wait.
*Tucker’s Travel Tip* If you can, avoid using a debit card to book a rental car. Any company that accepts it is sure to put a hefty hold on your account until at least 48 hrs after you return the car. In the past, rental companies even ran a credit check before renting to you, which dings your credit score. Some lower tier companies do not accept debit at all. Using a credit card is by far more beneficial, specifically due to the fact that most Mastercard and Visa credit cards include rental car insurance (so you don’t have to bother with the company’s expensive insurance). If you have full coverage for your own vehicle, it often extends to your rental car, but watch out as you would still have the same deductible that you have on your own vehicle.
With my AARP benefits (yes, I am a member of AARP), I received a nice upgrade. I picked up my rental (a Ford Escape). I’m not usually the biggest fan of SUVs, but in hindsight, I would definitely rent the Ford Escape again. It was smooth with nice amenities. With that said, I was very tempted to give in to my inner desire to stunt like most people in LA by paying $30 extra to rent a Mustang Convertible. Here is another tip, when you go to a warm weather city in the winter, you can get a convertible for far less than usual. It is low season for those cars, and the rental companies will offer a RIDICULOUS discount to get them off the lot.
Nonetheless, I didn’t take the offer, as something in my spirit told me it was a bad idea. I’m terrified of driving a rental the first few hours of getting off the lot, so I can’t imagine how I would have felt driving a convertible.
I get in the car, and take off. I’m finally in a bed at 2am (which is really 5am by my body’s standards).
All in all, my adventures in traveling were a bit bumpy this past weekend, but following a few tried and true tips likely saved me from further headache. It was either that or walk around Dallas with a NY Giants hoodie on.
Just random things and moments in the City of Angels. Formatting be damned.
What a random trip…I couldn’t be happier.