You Have to Go Home Now

Peter and I went on our trip to Cancun, Mexico and we stayed at a great resort. I was really nervous about booking this trip because I didn't want to make the wrong move, so I stayed up night after night reading about 805 reviews of the hotel. I knew I had done a little too much research when Peter ran out of singles and I told him, "Oh, they exchange twenties for singles at the front desk!"

It was the first time we had gone to a resort-type of facility and it was AWEsoooome! We had so much fun that I want to bring my parents next time. But then I thought back to every vacation we've ever had and it always involved Doing Something, Visiting Someone, Going Somewhere.

Every morning Peter and I would wake up and say, "What have we planned for the day? Uhm... Nothing? Sounds great!"

We just sat out there with constantly replenished drinks in our hand.

When we were shown our room, the bellhop pointed all the amenities to us and made a big deal out of telling us that there were two porn channels (since this is an all-adult, mostly honeymooning resort). And during the whole week, we would be blithely channel-surfing when, all of a sudden, GAPING ORIFICES would appear on screen causing us to scream at the television.

I guess that's what most men want to see, alternating HUGE CLOSE-UPS of gaping orifices and those orifices being stuffed by unnaturally huge and alien-like penises. It's more scary than sexy. Actually, scary would be an understatement. Gross would be another understatement. You know it's bad when you're sitting there thinking, "Wait, that doesn't belong there...unless...ew, GROSSGROSSGROSS!"

Of course, I can't watch porn because I always look at the poor girls (who look obviously high on whatever it is that gets them through the ordeal) and think what a sad life they must lead and I hope that they haven't been kidnapped and sold into sex slavery. This kind of thinking is what Peter calls "taking all the fun out of" thinking.

Seven days of pure relaxation made us realize that we wanted to live every day like that. Except for the being drunk seven hours of the day every day part.

At the end of our trip at checkout, the girl asked us if we had a nice time and we said, "Oh YES! We had the BEST TIME!"

She answered with, "But now you have to go home."

And Peter muttered, "Bitch," under his breath.