Jamaica Farewell

Lets call this adventures in dining. Saturday night we joined the entire wedding party for a final dinner together at the resort's Asian restaurant. Some people were leaving Sunday to return home. The bride and groom were leaving in the morning; off to Ocho Rios for their honeymoon.

At the asian buffet they were serving octopus and vegetable stir fry. Okay, it looked pretty disgusting laying there in the serving tray but not as disgusting as watching the groom's father slice up an 8 inch octopus and eat it tentacle by tentacle. He then proceeded to describe how the suction cups stuck to the tongue and roof of the mouth while you chewed. I was nearly gagging just sitting there.

A, not wanting to feel left out and fueled by alcohol, came back from the buffet with a small octopus of her own. It was nearly 2 inches long and one disgusting looking little guy.

I thought she was just going to put it in her mouth to try to freak me a bit, but no, she swallowed the damn thing. She said it did stick to your tongue but she didn't dare chew it; just swallowed it whole.

Our last night at the resort, A and I were out strolling around before dinner and ran into our friends F and JK in the lobby. JK had heard there was a casino downtown and he wanted to check it out and do a little gambling and F wanted to return to one of the shops to barter for one of those fake Coach bags. We aquired a taxi and the driver took us down to The Hip Strip again. Our driver was great and dropped us right at the door and we arranged a time to be picked up.

First stop, shopping for purses. JK is excellent at bartering and we picked up 2 for $75. That's one great deal when I would have paid that much for one fake here in MN. (I checked out the real one's at Macy's and these are pretty good fakes.) Then we spent a couple hours paying the slots. I didn't play since I really don't like to gamble. I want to have something to show for my money-like fake Coach bags and cute shoes. My job was look-out and bodyguard. I spent a long period of time having a stare-down with some Jamaican woman. She wasn't gambling; just sitting across the room watching us. It was very uncomfortable. JK and F were playing a few slots down and the waitress let them know she was available for hire for a threesome if they were interested. And just think, I claimed I didn't get to experience the culture.

At the designated time we walked out of the casino and our taxi pulled right up to take us back to the resort. We went to get a late dinner and hatch a naughty plan.

As you may remember, A gave the bride an 18inch, double-headed dildo for her bachloette back in December. The ladies named it Dirty Harry and it went bar hopping and dancing with us that night. The bride took it home and it rolled off the table and the dog chewed it up. The day we arrived in Jamaica, A and I went to our room to lay down for a nap before dinner. A couple hours later the groom showed up at our room to deliver a package. They had made beach bags for all their guests with t-shirts, flip-flops and snacks. In the bottom of our bag was Dirty Harry. It was still dirty and had a few bite marks from the dog, but there it was in all its pink silicone glory. So all week we were trying to figure out what we were going to do with it. We both swore we were not carrying that thing home in our suitcase. Last time we left Jamaica,  they opened and searched your checked bag right in front of you before they sent it to be loaded on the plane.

 At dinner we decided the best thing to do was leave Dirty Harry in Jamaica. A "borrowed" a spoon from the dinner table and we returned to our room. We took a Sharpie and decorated Dirty Harry.

"My name is Dirty Harry, Love Me Please!"

Please note the smiley on one head and the devil on the other.

We put Dirty Harry in my purse with the spoon and went for a moon-lit stroll on the beach. We spent some time walking in the surf and hanging around watching the tide come in.

We finally decided on a good spot and A pulled out the spoon and dug a little trench between two loungers while I documented our fuckery. We chose a spot right next to the area where they do aerobics every morning and in the high traffic area near the jerk chicken stand.  

We buried Dirty Harry in the sand but left about 5 inches of him sticking out. I insisted the devil face should be showing.

We were laughing hysterically at this point. It looks like a giant nightcrawler sticking out of the sand. The best part is that A and I would never even be a suspect. I know some kids will get the blame. ;)

The next morning we went down to the beach early to soak in a couple hours of sun and stake out a good spot to watch Dirty Harry. I can't believe it went unnoticed. When we got in the taxi at noon to head back to the airport it was still buried there on the beach undiscovered. Bon Voyage Dirty Harry. We hope you can find someone to give you all the love you deserve.

The End