Oh, the Crap You See on Vacation

Posted: July 27, 2011 by VT in Daily Ramblings

Hey, Party Peeps! Hope you’re enjoying your summer!

Like a lot of folks, I like to take vacations over the summer. And I’ve been fortunate to go on a couple trips over the past month. I wanted to share a few interesting tidbits from my travels. I think I’ll categorize my experiences as The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

So let’s gooooooooooooooo!

The (Very) Good

I was in the Bahamas for a couple nights. We were staying on the island of Bimini at the Big Game Club Resort. This resort is owned by Guy Harvey (of marine-life T-shirt fame). It was a cool place to just kick back and relax.

Of course, when one is on vacay, one requires adult beverages. My bar of choice was the pool bar. It was centrally located and seemed to always be open for business. But the main reason I frequented this particular spot was because of the bartender.

The pool bar was small and only required one drink slinger. And the bartender who was always on duty was this totally Cool Bahamian Dude (CBD). He would crank up the reggae music, pour himself a cocktail, light a cigarette and dance like his life depended on it. In fact, he was so focused on these tasks that bartending really wasn’t on his agenda. Here’s how my first visit to the pool bar went down …

Me: Hi. Can I get a rum and coke with lime?

CBD (still dancing, barely looking at me): You want anejo?

Me: Sounds good. Thanks.

CBD then grabbed a cup, a can of coke and the bottle of anejo and sat them down in front of me. Now I was a little confused.

Me: Ummm … do you want me to make it?

CBD: Whatchu think, girl? I’m gonna do it for you? Can’t you see I’m busy?

He lit another cigarette, took a big swig from his cup and continued dancing.

So, I did what any professional would do. I filled that cup to the brim with anejo, grabbed the can of Coke with my other hand and tipped out the ass. Needless to say, this was my bar of choice for the remainder of the trip.

Bottom line: It IS better in the Bahamas.

The (Scary) Bad

During the same trip, there was a vicious rainstorm and everyone ended up in the restaurant. Kids, teenagers and adults were all waiting out the storm. It was about 8 p.m.

There was a woman at the bar who had obviously been there for a while. She was a bit on the heavier side (bless her heart) and LOUD.

For some reason, she thought it was the appropriate time and place to squeeze her boobs together and yell across the bar, “Who wants to see my lady lumps?”

Yes, she said “lady lumps.” WTF.

A table of teenage boys — ages 14 or 15 is my best guess — started laughing. Big Loud Drunk Woman (BLDW) must have mistaken their giggles for interest, because she zeroed in on them like a hawk on a field mouse.

BLDW stumbled to their table and started doing a “sexy” dance by their table, rubbing her previously mentioned “lady lumps.”

It was so inappropriate, it was ridiculous. I’m not sure if the alcohol had impaired her judgment, her vision or both. But these boys weren’t even in high school. The look on their faces was one of shock, horror, disbelief and nausea.

This went on for a minute or two until a concerned adult came over and asked her to leave the area. BLDW looked at her, incredulous (like she didn’t understand what the hell the problem was). But eventually, BLDW went back to the bar to order another drink.

As soon as the storm passed, those boys bolted. If they weren’t gay before, I’m pretty sure they’re deacons at the Church of the Homotastic now.

The (Horribly) Ugly

Okay — separate weekend trip to Orlando. We were staying at the Disney Dolphin Resort. It’s a Starwood property affiliated with Disney, but not a Mickey Mouse hotel.

As I’ve been known to do, I hit the lobby bar on the first night. I started chatting with the bartender — something else I’ve been known to do — and I noticed that he was wearing a nametag. No big surprise, there.

But under his name was the line, “My Passion Is” and the next line appeared “Halloween.”

I took a look around the lobby at the front desk clerks and such, and I realized all the employees were wearing the same stupid flair. I mean, really? You’re making these minimum wage workers list their “passion” on their nametags? Give me a fuckin break.

So I asked the bartender about his passion for Halloween. He grimaced … I could tell customers often comment on it. I quickly assured him that I wasn’t interested in his favorite costume. I wanted to know how he felt about wearing his passion on his sleeve, so to speak.

“I hate it,” he replied. “People are always asking me ridiculous questions about what I like about Halloween. It’s painful.”

“I didn’t even want to put Halloween,” he continued. “I wanted to put Horror Movies but they wouldn’t let me. Thought it wasn’t family-friendly.”

OMG. Are you kidding me? These poor souls are forced to flash their passion at every Tom, Dick and Harry, and they’re not even allowed to list their true interest??!!! I’m sorry, but that’s horrific. And I can’t even imagine what the divebardiva would do if a poor sap suggested she don such nonsense.

Gotta love Corporate America. Way to go, Starwood.

One last note — the bartender gave me a Fuzzy Leprechaun shot on the house for commiserating with him over the fucking flair. It was a delicious concoction of Vodka, Curacao and Peach Schnapps. Highly recommend.

And it lived up to its name because the rest of evening was, indeed, a little fuzzy.

Grow old disgracefully,
Vodka Toxic

  1. divebardiva says:

    I credit you for my love of the lobby bar and I cannot wait to hit Bimini on my next visit as that bar is right up my alley! And of course I mean the one where you can make your own and not the one where large marge turns perv and scars some poor kids for life.

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