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Re: meeting prince
We head to Margaritaville where there’s a party going on. He pays for us to get in. It’s Jamaica night and the place is full and the dance hall music is blasting. We get our drinks, find a place to stand and check out the scene.
His name is Prince. He was born in Kingston but lives in the states now. He’s home visiting family and friends for a few days and to take care of some business for his mother and for his sister who has an abusive husband.
We look around and women are pulling up their skirts, pulling up their tops and generally “dance halling”. He says I can’t stand this, let’s get out of here. He approaches the manager complains about the scene, gets his money back and we walk back to the hotel while enjoying a very comfortable conversation. Now my body feels like electricity is being fed into it. Every piece of my skin feels like a sensor and they are all going off at once. I am surprised I am able to walk and talk at the same time, let alone make sense.
The disco at our hotel is playing music so we stop in there the place is empty so we sit in the lobby and talk until everything around us is silent and there is nothing else to say but good night. I return to the “barracks”. My girls are snoring away. I make it through the luggage maze to my bunk and settle down to sleep with a smile on my face ready to start the next day.
Today the crew is headed to Negril. We have a driver with a bus. The plan is spend the day at the beach, catch the sunset and come back to Montego Bay. Some of us make it onto the bus, others are straggling picking up last minute things for the journey. A few folks are missing and someone goes to look for them and then the finder is lost too. The clock ticks on and somehow its an impossibility to get everyone on the bus at the same time. Some come, some get off, some come, some go.
And then he walks out sees me, says good morning and my desire to go to Negril is gone. All I want is to be swallowed up in that smile. The driver announces last call and somehow all of us are on the bus the door is closed and we are on our way.
Negril is fun as usual. Parasailing, jet ski and glass bottom boat rides topped off with a sunset at Rick’s make the day zoom away. Coming back we laugh that somehow there has been a miscommunication and no one in our party is getting married. So we decide to have a wedding anyway since we all bought go to wedding clothes. We picked the bride and groom and they are getting to know each other in the back of the bus. All is right with the world.
We head to Margaritaville where there’s a party going on. He pays for us to get in. It’s Jamaica night and the place is full and the dance hall music is blasting. We get our drinks, find a place to stand and check out the scene.
His name is Prince. He was born in Kingston but lives in the states now. He’s home visiting family and friends for a few days and to take care of some business for his mother and for his sister who has an abusive husband.
We look around and women are pulling up their skirts, pulling up their tops and generally “dance halling”. He says I can’t stand this, let’s get out of here. He approaches the manager complains about the scene, gets his money back and we walk back to the hotel while enjoying a very comfortable conversation. Now my body feels like electricity is being fed into it. Every piece of my skin feels like a sensor and they are all going off at once. I am surprised I am able to walk and talk at the same time, let alone make sense.
The disco at our hotel is playing music so we stop in there the place is empty so we sit in the lobby and talk until everything around us is silent and there is nothing else to say but good night. I return to the “barracks”. My girls are snoring away. I make it through the luggage maze to my bunk and settle down to sleep with a smile on my face ready to start the next day.
Today the crew is headed to Negril. We have a driver with a bus. The plan is spend the day at the beach, catch the sunset and come back to Montego Bay. Some of us make it onto the bus, others are straggling picking up last minute things for the journey. A few folks are missing and someone goes to look for them and then the finder is lost too. The clock ticks on and somehow its an impossibility to get everyone on the bus at the same time. Some come, some get off, some come, some go.
And then he walks out sees me, says good morning and my desire to go to Negril is gone. All I want is to be swallowed up in that smile. The driver announces last call and somehow all of us are on the bus the door is closed and we are on our way.
Negril is fun as usual. Parasailing, jet ski and glass bottom boat rides topped off with a sunset at Rick’s make the day zoom away. Coming back we laugh that somehow there has been a miscommunication and no one in our party is getting married. So we decide to have a wedding anyway since we all bought go to wedding clothes. We picked the bride and groom and they are getting to know each other in the back of the bus. All is right with the world.
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