Sunburned Titties and Skinny Dipping

It's cold out. It's snowing and the flakes falling are as big as my head. It makes me want to go on vacation somewhere warm and fast. But let's be honest. I'm not going on vacation anytime soon, so better to reminisce about a spring break of my past...

I've done some traveling. I've been very lucky about that. I guess you could even call me an around-the-way girl, ala LL Cool J. But sometimes, its the most ridiculous, as opposed to the most scenic vacations that stick in your memory.

Senior year of college I went on spring break with two of my friends. We went to the bahamas hoping for some sun, cheap fun, and bahama mamas. We got all that and a bag of conch fritters.

On the cruise from Florida to the Bahamas, I fell asleep on the deck of the ship at 9 in the morning. Maybe that was because we got on the ship at like 6:30 AM. Maybe it was because I had already started drinking by 7:30 AM. Or maybe it was because I didn't get to sleep in because there was a waterbug the size of a small trailer home running around our bathroom and my friends thought that I was the perfect candidate to kill it.

Anyway, I digress as usual.

It was overcast on the deck and I was out cold for over an hour. I woke up later to find that I was red as a lobster. So much for a base coat. Over the course of the trip, you could actually tell what day of the vacation it was by the color of my skin as I got more brown.

As soon as I got to the island, I hightailed it to a store to get something with which to cover myself up. A gentleman working at the store noticed me and my cherry-like color. With no attempt at decorum he yelled out:

"Whooeee girl. You got some sunburned titties!"

Thus my nickname for the rest of the trip was born.

When we got to the hotel, we knew we were in a classy place. There was a doorway that was framed by glass. The glass had "glass" written all over it. When I inquired at the front desk as to why, we were told "because people tend to walk into it if they aren't warned."

This was going to be a good trip.

What followed was a great deal of debauchery. But hey, I was young and stupid, right? [Seriously, people, you think I'm going to share stories from the Paris Hilton period of my life? Maybe when you're older. Or a few more blogs in.]

I did, however, have one of my favorite conversations that first night. He was a captain on one of the booze cruises and we began chatting. It was early in the night and I was only on my first bahama mama.

"So, you run a booze cruise? That must be fun." I said, while petting his very adorable dog.

"Yup, it's a good time. I live on my booze cruise boat, too, so I spend a lot of time on the water."

Classy I thought.

"So, what's your name again? And do you want to go skinny dipping?" He asked. All this was said with a huge smile on his face.

That's what I like. A man that takes it slow. I wasn't in much of a dipping mood though; perhaps I was a bit protective of my sun-kissed breasts.

"No, I think, I'll pass," I replied.

"Oh, you must be a virgin," he grumbled, and walked off.

Poor guy didn't know what he was missing. But apparently the equation goes:
Non-harlot behavior + ability to converse = Virgin

And that's some valuable math to know, people.