Saturday, February 27, 2010
Jamaica, part two
Montego Bay, at least where I stayed, didn’t have much in the way of beaches. There were strips of sand next to the ocean, but no wide areas full of sunbathers like I had experienced during family vacations to Miami Beach.
I was on my summer vacation and that meant I was going to the beach no matter what size it was. I put on my bathing suit, took a towel from the hotel bathroom, and went off in search of a beach. My hotel was on a hill. As I headed down toward the ocean, children begged for money, but I didn’t have any on me, so I felt no guilt in refusing them. Before I reached the bottom of the hill, a young woman rushed up to me and welcomed me to Jamaica.
She said her name was Mia. Mia had a beautiful smile. She wore T-shirt and jeans. She asked if she could hang out with me. Mia didn’t look like how I pictured a prostitute to look. She wasn’t dressed in flashy clothes that showed a lot of skin. She didn’t wear red lipstick or any makeup for that matter. She looked like the kind of girl that you’d meet at the grocery store.
I don’t remember exactly where Mia took me. It wasn’t the ocean, but there was enough water to wade in. Maybe it was a pond. It was somewhat secluded.
“Let’s go swimming here,” Mia announced with way too much enthusiasm.
“But you’re not wearing a bathing suit,” I said.
“No problem,” Mia said. She took off her T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. She slipped into water in her bra and panties.
I joined her. The water was warm. Mia attached herself to me like an octopus. I was shocked, but got an erection anyway. She tried to mount me in the water.
“Whoa,” I cried. “Are you sure about this? Somebody could come by at any second.”
“You’re right,” Mia said. “Let’s go to your room.”
We hurried out of the water. Mia put her clothes back on and we headed for the hotel. Events had happened so quickly, that I still hadn’t realized at this point that Mia was going to want to be paid for having sex with me. My mind was blurred by lust and I just figured that I’d gotten unusually lucky.
At the hotel, we weren’t in my room for more than a minute before the phone rang. Management called to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to have non-hotel guests in my room. I was pissed. Where did they get off telling me who I had in my room, especially when I was so close to getting laid? Plus, I was shocked that management knew so quickly. Were they watching me?
I sent Mia on her way. I lost interest in swimming in the ocean that day. I was miffed at how quickly the hustlers moved in on me. The baggage handler, Slick, Mia, even the hotel manager all hit on me before I had time to think clearly.
I changed out of my swimsuit for some walking clothes and headed out to explore the city. I avoided the panhandlers and visited historical sites.
I was wondering through an open-aired market trying my best to ignore all the people shouting at me to buy from them when a young man pulled me aside.
“You need a guide,” he said. “Someone to show you around, but also someone to make everybody else leave you alone. The only way they’ll give you any peace is if you have a guide.”
“And I guess that’s what you are,” I said. “What do you charge to be a guide?”
“Whatever money you are willing to give me and maybe some clothes,” he said. “It’s hard to get good clothes here, especially T-shirts.”
His name was Ronald and for the rest of my trip, he was my guide.
Ronald convinced me to rent a car.
“We can drive to Negril so you can see the sunset from Rick’s Café,” Ronald said. I found out later that this was one of most popular tourist attractions in Jamaica.
I had trouble getting used to driving on the left hand side of the road, so I made Ronald do most of the driving. On the way out of Montego Bay, we passed by a large cinder block building.
“Why are all those people lined up outside that building?” I asked.
“It’s the movie theater,” Ronald explained. “We only get one movie a month and everybody goes to see it.”
“But you can rent movies and watch them on TV, right?” I asked.
“Too expensive,” Ronald said. “Everybody can afford the movie theater.”
“What’s playing now?”
“’Purple Rain.’ That is the best movie ever made. I’ve already seen it five times.”
I was amazed that “Purple Rain” had only just arrived. It came out in the U.S. three years earlier.
“Everybody is really excited because next month, the sequel to ‘Purple Rain’ is coming,” Ronald said.
“’Under a Cherry Moon’ is coming here?” I asked.
“The film Prince did after ‘Purple Rain.’”
Ronald looked confused. “No, that’s not the movie.”
“Which movie are you talking about?”
“’The Color Purple.’ That’s Prince’s sequel to ‘Purple Rain.’”
I could see how Ronald would have come to that conclusion. I didn’t have the heart to explain that Prince wasn’t in “The Color Purple.” Best he find out on his own.