I really needed a vacation, to start with. The fall and holiday season had been crazy at work and I had to have a break. The miserable cold, wet winter practically screamed, "Get out of here, go somewhere warm, if only for a week!" I was between girlfriends right then, in fact had been in a dry spell for months, so the thought of just packing up and heading to the Gulf Coast of Mexico did not seem impetuous. I was twenty-three and fancy-free, after all. And a visit with my friendly travel agent (they were still "a thing", back then) revealed that a week at a Mexican resort could be surprisingly affordable, especially if I stayed away from the flashier destinations like Cancún or Cozumel. I settled on Playa del Carmen, where the sand was just as white, the ocean just as blue, and I could still day-trip to all the interesting sights of the Yucatán.
I could cut expenses even more by sharing a room, plus it would be pleasant to have a traveling companion. So I recruited my friend Bill from work, who I knew was feeling like I was about this whole work/winter/womanless situation we were sharing. We had known each other from college, and I had recommended him for a job that had opened up in the company. Bill wasted approximately fifteen milliseconds before yelling, "Hell yeah, man! I'm in!" So a couple of quick vacation requests later, I booked the package and we were set.
By the time we touched down at the Cancún airport, we had the rules of engagement worked out. We were of course interested in hooking up (though the term wasn't in wide use yet) with single women out for a good time. We would do the buddy routine in situations where there were likely to be eligibles, but otherwise would give each other ample space. If one of us happened to hook up and needed to use the room for a while, we would just use the "Do Not Disturb" card.
"We have to remember, though, that this isn't like the dorms at school," I said. "We can't just crash with Eddie down the hall if the other wants to have an all-nighter. A couple hours at most, OK?"
"Sure, Dan," Bill replied. "The ideal situation would be for the girl to have a room to herself, though."
"Sure. If that happens and you'll be gone overnight, just call the room, let it ring once, and hang up. That way I'll know not to wait up for you, if you follow."
"Got it."
We caught the hotel shuttle and relaxed for the one-hour-plus ride to Playa del Carmen. The sunshine was amazing after the dreary gray skies of home. We passed the occasional small town, and I took in the rustic look of humble homes and businesses.
When the shuttle pulled up at the hotel, it was as if we had arrived at another world. We walked through the open-air main entrance into the marble-floored lobby and got in line to check in.
"How'd we manage to get into a place like this?" asked Bill. "It looks way more expensive than what we're paying."
"It is," I said. "The package deal saves a lot off what we'd pay just calling in and booking a room."
About that time I noticed an attractive woman who looked to be about my age. She was sitting at a table near the bar, chatting with a friend. She had blonde hair, sun-streaked and long. She had taken off her sunglasses revealing green eyes. Her smooth, bare arms were evenly tanned. She was wearing a tank top that she filled out wonderfully, and white shorts that set off her toned legs, also browned by the sun. I guessed she had been here for a few days and had put in a good amount of beach time already.
I kept checking out this striking woman while we waited, memorizing her features. I wondered if I could possibly meet her. The easy laughter that punctuated her conversation was so appealing.
We got checked in and moved into our room, which was large and comfortable. The bathroom was particularly nice, featuring a roomy combination tub and shower. Our balcony looked out on the ocean. We immediately changed into swim trunks and hit the beach, which was just steps from the open walkway that circled the hotel. It really was another world now. It was nearly noon, and the sun seemed impossibly high in the sky, the air and sand impossibly warm.
"I think this is where we outta be right now," I said to Bill.
"I think you're right."
We just relaxed and soaked up the sunshine, went for an occasional plunge in the cool, refreshing surf, and enjoyed the female scenery. Once in a while a woman would stroll by topless. From the guidebooks I had read, this was not uncommon here. It was all right with us. It was beginning to feel like a week of this would not be enough. What if we just became beach bums here?
Soon enough the sun was setting, and we found that an afternoon on the beach had done wonders for our appetites. We decided to see what the night life was like off the property. We changed back into jeans and casual shirts, and walked northward along the first street parallel to the beach, past the ferry to Cozumel, in search of some good local food.
This was a time just on the cusp of the huge economic expansion that has since brought in a flood of Americanized restaurants and boutiques. The first couple of city blocks off the beach were pedestrian only, and full of open-air bars and tiny restaurants, many just under tents or tin roofs. The aroma of roasting meat and grilled vegetables was everywhere. Where to begin?
We finally settled on a place under a larger tent, where the aromas were particularly delicious. Bill had a plate of tacos al pastor, while I went for a big bowl of pozole. We both agreed that each was the best thing we'd ever eaten. We killed time afterward, sipping bottles of Bohemia beer and enjoying the cooler evening breeze. No one was going to hurry us out; things were different here. The little TV set above the bar was showing an American station via satellite. The weather report was on, telling of record lows over the midsection of the United States. Negative numbers decorated the map out to a radius of hundreds of miles around home.
"A good time to be out of the country, eh?" said Bill.
"No shit. We should just stay here all winter."
"We'd get fired."
"So what?"
"Our visas will run out."
"I know. We were born in the wrong place."
I was just glancing around the place when there she was. The blonde from the lobby, sitting not twenty feet from us. If anything, she was hotter looking than she had been that morning. She had brushed her hair out and fixed up her face a bit, it seemed. Not that she needed much. She was sitting with the same friend from the morning. Who was female, did I mention? Evidently she was not here with a man. All signs were good.
"Hey, bud! Whatcha looking at?" Bill had caught me.
"The chick over there, the blonde," I said, motioning with my head but keeping my voice low. "She was in the lobby this morning. Nice."
"I gotcha." He quickly spotted her. "Oh yeah, nice is right. Hey, her friend's not bad looking either. Why don't we go over?"
"That can't work. What's the opening? These things have to be done with finesse. Didn't you learn anything at State?"
"I learned that getting drunk at a mixer and letting it all hang out could get you places sometimes. I suppose things are different now."
Just then she turned her head and caught me looking at her. My instincts served me well; I quickly gave her a big smile and a thumbs-up. She smiled back, a bit shyly, then turned back to her friend.
"There," I told Bill. "The seed is planted. Now when I see her again, we'll practically have been introduced. Learn from the master, my friend."
