The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

you having?” asked Marci, once our food arrived. “It looks like fried alien.”

“Fried octopus, actually.”

“Gross.” The waiter delivered her shrimp and chorizo kebabs without fanfare, and Marci dug into them like a ravenous lioness.

Greg, who had earlier demonstrated his fluency with Spanish, engaged the waiter in a broad discussion over his pozole. Susan beamed at him, marveling over his multilingual talents.

“I studied it for three years in high school,” said Marci, noting Greg’s conversation with the waiter. “I can’t say squat.”

“That would be agacharse, Marci,” said Greg, whose hearing proved to be excellent. “But that’s referring to actual squatting rather than a null property.”

“Huh?” replied Marci. The waiter seemed similarly confused, and Greg, while pointing at Marci, explained he was giving her a vocabulary lesson. The waiter nodded and left.

“So, Greg,” said Marci. “How much did that condo set you back?”

“Marci!” exclaimed Susan protectively.

“She’s thinking of buying a place here too,” I said.

“Half a million U.S.,” said Greg. “It’s an investment. I’ll use it during low-season, which is now, and rent it out the rest of the year. It’s basically a wash financially, plus it’s free lodging when I’m here.”

“You’re pretty smart with that stuff,” said Marci. “I need to manage my money better.”

“What do you do? It’s funny I don’t know that yet.”

“I own a string of meth labs.”

“A cash business, then. I’m sure it’s booming.”

“She’s an orthodontist, Greg,” said Susan. “She makes tons.”

“Ryan likes me to wear my lab coat when we ball, don’t you honey?” Marci gave me a naughty grin. I actually thought it was a good idea.

“That’s nice,” said Susan.

After a further discussion of real estate, with a brief detour into role-playing during sex, and Marci’s account of having put her hair into pigtails during our drive from Cancun, and her reason for doing so, our dinner was complete. This was quite a new world we were living in. There was no need for innuendo.

Susan suggested a short walk to a beach-side bar to top things off. It was a lively place. I felt there were more Americans than was really necessary, and the atmosphere was rowdy. It was nearing eleven, which is often a dangerous hour to engage a watering hole, especially when full of vacationers brimming with alcohol-induced free will. We scored a table near the stand-up bar and ordered a round of drinks.

“To vacations!” toasted Susan. We all drank. Both Susan and Marci represented the high-end of the women present, most of whom looked like they’d fallen through a wormhole connected to the Jersey Shore. One guy, who later proved to be a bloke because he was from Britain, proved to be obnoxious. Greg caught on to this too.

After a few more rounds I went to the restroom which involved a trek through black-leopard territory behind the bar, and when I returned, I couldn’t help but notice Greg kneeling over the obnoxious bloke, now on the floor. Greg’s knee was situated on his neck, suggesting I’d missed a brawl.

“Fuck, Ryan,” said Marci. “You missed it.”

“What?” It was clear enough I’d missed something.

“This guy came over and grabbed my tits. Greg nailed him. It was amazing!”

Several other bar patrons stepped in to assist Greg, who was now standing. The bloke, also now erect, was escorted forcefully out of the bar.

“Are you okay?” asked Greg, once he’d come over.

“Fuck yeah,” said Marci. “Jesus, you had that guy on the ground in no time. You’re my hero.”

“You wouldn’t have believed it, Ryan,” said Susan, now alongside. “Greg was like Superman. That guy was big.”

“It’s nothing,” said Greg, blushing boyishly. “He was too drunk to do anything.”

“What was that move, anyway?” asked Marci. “You, like, flipped him through mid-air.”

“Modified jiu-jitsu, I guess,” said Greg. “I was improvising.”

We regained our table and the waiter, full of apologies, cleaned up the mess caused by the scuffle and replenished our drinks “on the house”.

“You know jiu-jitsu?” I asked. “That takes a lot of training.”

“I’ve had my black belt for about five years now. I never thought I’d have to use it.”

“Jesus,” said Susan fawningly. “I’ve never seen anything like it outside of a movie.”

“I know,” said Marci. “I’m fucking impressed!”

I was sorry to have missed it. The multilingual, quite well off and handsome Greg, who possessed a large penis, was also a jiu-jitsu black belt and superhero. I felt diminished by these facts but elected not to get moody as well.

“I’m beat,” said Marci, after we finished our complimentary beverages. “It’s so tiring being the heroine in a bawdy bar brawl.”

We escape without further molestation to anyone in our party. After dropping Susan and Greg off at his fancy-pants, Vista Marítima condominium, we drove back to the hotel.

As was customary for any vacationing couple, one more top-off before bed sounded like a good idea, so we headed to the Mojito Bar for a nightcap. Chloe was seated on the customer side of the bar. In front of her was a frosty cocktail which hinted at being strongly flavored with rum. I thought it might be fun to tempt her with a fresh dose of Marci, so I steered us to the two empty stools beside her.

At first, Chloe didn’t recognize her good fortune, which suggested she was drunk. I’d never before encountered a drunk lesbian and thought it could be interesting. After some further non-recognition, I extended a greeting.

“Oh, there you are,” said Chloe. Her English was now heavily accented.

“Hi,” said Marci, thus compounding my greeting.

“You came back,” said Chloe, stating the obvious. “Oh, I mean—you looked so good in that suit! And here you are!”

“Thanks!” said Marci. She gave me a glance, assuring me she was up to speed on Chloe’s condition. “My husband loves it too. He said it makes him crazy.” This was true.

Chloe attempted to sort through whatever image my presence presented to her. “Oh, him.” She pointed with her index finger. “He looks okay.”

“Thank you so much for saying so!” said Marci, using a mock Southern Belle accent.

“He’s okay, I guess,” affirmed Chloe. She