Beer Goggles Anthology

by Anthology

  “Actually, I’m a contractor. But I do some carpentry on the side. And you?”

  “I work for an advertising firm. I’m a graphic artist.”

  “Nice. So you do all those fancy ads, with the pictures? The Photoshop stuff?”

  “Yeah, I work with a team, and we design the ads.”

  He smiled appreciatively. “I’m impressed. It sounds intriguing.”

  I sipped my frosty drink. “It’s not that exciting. Trust me. Trying to please clients can be frustrating at times.”

  He nodded. “I get that. Construction is the same way. They’ll tell you they want one thing, and at the eleventh hour, they want to change the floor plans and can’t understand why it’s impossible.”

  We shared a few horror stories, and then he asked if I was going to the flamenco dancing show that night.

  “Is it a lesson? Because I did the tango thing last night and almost maimed my poor partner.”

  Laughing, he said, “No, it’s actually a show where the experts come in. A bunch of us are going. You ladies should come. We heard it’s excellent.”

  “I can check with my friends.”

  Brigid was doing another shot, and I caught her eye, motioning her over. “You game to watch the flamenco show tonight?”

  “They’re going to have a bird show here? Do they do some kind of tricks or something?”

  Bonzo bent backward and barked out a laugh.

  Brigid eyed him for a second, then pushed him backward with a palm on his chest. She was completely clueless. Or drunk. “What’s so funny?”

  “Flamenco, not flamingoes, you dork. They’re dancers.”

  “Oh, shit. Boy, am I a dumbass. Yeah, let’s do it!” She fist-bumped us.

  Amie and Callie came over and wanted to know why Bonzo was laughing. When I told them, they chortled. Then they whispered something to each other. No doubt, it had something to do with pink flamingoes. Brigid would probably end up with pink flamingoes in her front yard one day.

  That night, we all ended up at The Galley to celebrate our Izzy Dizzy loss. The flamenco dancers were awesome, and after the show, we took over the dance floor as the music changed up. I didn’t dare try to do the tango, like Brigid and Amie did, but they ended up laughing at how stupid they looked together. They each kept trying to lead each other until they gave it up.

  Bonzo and I danced the night away, doing whatever struck our fancy. Many drinks were involved. Too many. And I started to think that maybe, just maybe Bonzo could be the one. The crowd thinned, and one by one, the place emptied out, until there was only a handful of us. Bonzo took my hand and led me through the door, into the warm tropical night. His fingers were rough against the softness of my own.

  We walked along the sandy beach. The evening was lovely as the moon was high in the sky, lighting a silvery trail on the gray expanse of the ocean. The sparkling stars reminded me of gemstones.

  Suddenly, he stopped, brought me around to face him, and said, “I’m leaving tomorrow, and wanted you to know I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”

  I was entertaining the thought of inviting myself to his room, but then I said, “Oh, Bonzo,” and every romantic thought I had went whooshing out to sea. It wasn’t possible for me to imagine being tangled up, naked, with him, moaning out, “Bonzo, harder, Bonzo.” And then the worst thing happened. An awful giggle gushed right out of me, even though I slapped my hand over my mouth.

  He tilted his head and stared.

  “Sorry. I had this funny thought. Anyway, it was so much fun hanging out with you too, Bonzo.” And there it came again. It was a fucking church giggle—uncontrollable, and unstoppable.

  He got a goofy grin and asked, “Care to share what’s so funny?”

  My hand flapped in front of my face, and I said, “It’s nothing really.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Have a great trip home.” Then I took off running. Unfortunately, it was dark, and I ran straight into a chaise, tripping, ass over end. My dress went over my head, and I floundered there for a few. Bonzo came to the rescue, helping me up. My nose felt wet and bruised, but it was so dark, I didn’t know why.

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” The truth was, I’d had too much alcohol to feel pain. With a little wave, I took off again. This time I made it home. But when I got to the bathroom, I screamed. Blood poured down my face. I guess I’d hit myself harder than I thought. There was also a cut on my cheekbone.

  Amie walked in and said, “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “I tripped over a chair.”

  “Where’s Bonzo?”

  And then I died laughing.

  Chapter Six

  It was official. My nose was broken. After returning from the hospital in the morning with a gigantic bandage on it, there would be no hope of finding a man. This was not going to be a sex-cation, looking the way I did. Running away from Bonzo last night must’ve really been important. Too bad the details were fuzzy from all the drinks I’d consumed.

  Amie, who’d insisted I go to the hospital, said, “Maybe it’ll get you a sympathy fuck.”

  “Thanks,” I said sourly.

  The staff at the resort couldn’t have been nicer. They supplied me with lots of ice packs to help reduce the swelling.

  “Alcohol. That’s what I recommend,” Brigid said.

  “I’m taking pain medication. I’m laying off until after I stop it. Then I’m in.” The rest of the day, I sat on the beach, under a palapa, with a towel over my face. The girls brought me food and beverages, spoiling me, and when I became sleepy, I went inside to take a nap. I ended up sleeping the entire day and the next.

  In the evening, all three of them sat with me on the deck as we ate in, courtesy of room service. They even volunteered to stay in with me that night. But all I wanted to do was sleep.

  “I want to stay in. Let me have one more night to myself. Your vacation doesn’t have to be ruined too.”

  I finally talked them into going out, and then I crawled in between the cool sheets and promptly feel sound asleep.

  My throbbing nose woke me up the next morning. I was afraid to look at myself in the mirror. After using the restroom, I inhaled a big dose of courage and faced the truth. It was not pretty. The reality was I looked like I had gone ten rounds with Barney the Bruiser. The black-and-blue half-moons under each eye had spread. On one side, it dipped below my bandage, but on the other it went up over my eyebrow. I was beginning to resemble a lopsided eggplant.

  After swallowing another pain pill, I hunted down my cell phone. It was time to call Mom and Dad. They needed to know what happened before they picked me up at the airport. I didn’t want them to have a heart attack when they saw me.

  Mom answered. “Hey, sweetie, having fun?”

  “It’s great here. You should see our villa. It’s even better than the pictures.”

  “Really! I can’t wait to see all your pictures. Be sure to take lots and lots. Are the girls having fun? Are you meeting lots of cute boys?”

  I filled her in and then said, “Hey, can you make me an appointment for Monday with an ear, nose, and throat specialist?”

  “Sure, honey, but why do you need that? Are your sinuses bothering you again? You sound all stuffy.”

  I mumbled my response. “No, I sort of broke my nose.”

  “What!” she screamed into the phone, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “What happened?”

  After I explained the whole Bonzo story, except I left the guts out about the image I had in my head, she said, “Oh, honey, you need to be careful walking around in the dark like that. You could’ve broken your ankle too.”

  We hung up with her promising to make that appointment and me promising to text her a picture of my broken nose. What a deal.

  My pain pill kicked in, and the throbbing eased up. I decided I needed some fresh air and coffee. I put in a call to room service, and when the coffee came, I sipped it on t
he deck. Not much later, the others joined me, and we planned our day.

  “You sure you’re up to hanging with us?” Callie asked. “We can always stay by our pool here.”

  “No freaking way. We came here to have fun, and we’re going to have fun. I’ll slap my big straw hat on, wear my sunglasses, and I’ll be just dandy.”

  “You sure you can wear sunglasses with that thing on your nose?” Brigid asked.

  “Well, let me find out.” I got out of my chair, swayed a bit from the pain pill I had taken, and Amie said, “Hold up there, Prancer. You don’t want to crash and burn again.”

  “Right. I’ll be careful.” I found my sunglasses and tried them on. “Ugh. They won’t go all the way down.”

  “They’re cock-eyed,” Callie said. Then we all cracked up.

  “I’ll use a towel again. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  After we stuffed ourselves, we settled on the beach again to soak in the rays. I snoozed due to the drowsiness caused by the pain pills. When I woke up, I was alone with a bunch of bottled water next to me. I decided to go inside and make an appointment to get my hair washed later that afternoon since taking a shower was out of the question.

  They had an opening at four, so I went back to the beach to find the girls. It was almost two, and I needed something to eat. I found them at the bar, chugging some frozen beverages. My nose felt pretty good, and it had been way past six hours since I’d had my last pain pill, so I decided to join them in one.

  “I’m starving. After this, do you wanna grab some lunch?”

  “We ate over there,” Amie said, pointing to the beachside grill.

  Leo, the bartender, said, “I can have them bring you something here if you’d like.”

  “That would be great.”

  He handed me what was being served, and I placed my order. It didn’t take long for my grilled chicken to arrive. I practically inhaled the beast, along with my banana daiquiri.

  “Dang, girl, do you want another?” Callie asked.

  “No, but I was super hungry.” I wiped my mouth, feeling very satisfied.

  “Tonight, Leo was saying, they’re having a traditional Dominican Republic buffet on the beach and then a party afterward. You want to go?” Brigid asked.

  “I’m game, as long as there are lights. I don’t want to trip over any chairs.”

  Leo assured us there would be torches lit and lights strung everywhere. And then he said, “It will be very romantic, si.”

  Pointing to the romantic hunk of gauze and tape on my face, I say, “I hope it’s more romantic than this.”

  He patted my arm and told me the rest of my vacation was going to bring me better luck. But after I thought about it, he was right. It couldn’t get any worse than this. We had three nights left here, so I’d better make the best of it.

  The beach party turned out to be a lot of fun; although, I was hesitant about where I placed each step. Every turn I made, I checked my surroundings, and I knew I was being more of a Nervous Nelly than necessary. But if I fell on this nose, I couldn’t imagine what the damn thing would look like then.

  In the morning, I woke up to an empty villa. The girls had escorted me home and gone back to the party. I was taking it very easy on the alcohol, which they weren’t. They must’ve found their usual hookups while I found my pillow. Too bad I hadn’t been forward-thinking and hadn’t brought my vibrator. After a quick finger job, which wasn’t too exciting, I ordered room service. No telling when the girls would roll in.

  As I was eating, they stumbled in, one by one, hung over as hell. I smiled at them. And then something hit me—I actually felt well. Even though my nose slightly throbbed, it wasn’t excruciating. Today was going to be a great one. This was our second to the last night we were here, and I was going to make the best of it.

  “So, ladies, tonight we’re going to eat in the best restaurant and then we are going to party. We only have two nights left, and I have some lost time to make up for.”

  Callie groaned, Brigid held up a very weak-looking fist, and Amie covered her mouth and took off for the bathroom. Too fucking bad. They had all day to recover, and I didn’t care if I had to drag them out by the hair—I was going to do it.

  Chapter Seven

  We ate at the seafood restaurant. I ordered the lobster and a monstrous shrimp cocktail as an appetizer. It was stupendous. For dessert, I had a chocolate soufflé. Amie was still a bit piqued, Callie was very quiet, but Brigid was back to normal. She ate and drank with gusto.

  “Can you even taste?” she asked.

  “Not as good as usual, but yeah, I can. I don’t know what they crammed in my nose, but I can’t wait to go back to the doctor.”

  “Ew, honestly, did you have to mention that at the dinner table?” Amie asked.

  “Sorry. Brig asked, so I didn’t even think.”

  Brigid scowled. “Quit being such a pussy, Amie. You’re still hung over and being a baby. If you can’t run with the big dogs, baby, you’d better stay on the porch.”

  “Oh, and that’s an original saying,” Amie countered.

  “No, but it was appropriate.”

  “Okies, ladies. So what kind of trouble are we going to get into tonight?” I asked.

  Callie whined, “I’m not sure I can get into any.”

  “You too, stop being a whiny ass. Get a damn shot of tequila and toughen up. My God, what happened to you two?” Brigid said. “You act like this is the first time you ever had a hangover.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep,” Callie complained.

  “And whose fault is that?” Brigid shot back. “Tell your Latin lover you need to rest and not fuck all night.”

  Callie hung her head.

  “Ladies, let’s not argue. So, Callie, go take a nap and join us later.”

  “Oh, hell no. She had all day to sleep. She’s going out with you tonight.” Brigid glared at Callie.

  “Yeah, Brig is right. I’m going.” Callie wore a determined expression.

  “Great. We’re all in.” Holding up my wine glass, I said, “Cheers.” And we clinked each other’s.

  We finished dinner and decided to stop in one of the bars, The Galley, to see what was happening. The group the girls had been hanging out with had apparently left today, so we were on the hunt for a new gang to pal around with. The place was moderately full, so we pulled up to the bar to place our order. I decided to go with something like vodka and not a sweet frozen drink, to avoid looking like Callie or Amie tomorrow. I didn’t want to completely ruin the rest of my less than stellar vacation.

  More and more people trickled in, and the music blared a little louder. The girls all went out to dance with each other, and I declined. I wanted to wait a little before I totally went at it.

  Someone brushed my arm, as the bar area was fairly crowded by now, and I checked to see who it was. A tall dark-haired man stood next to me. The lighting wasn’t great in here, so I couldn’t exactly get a good read on him. Nodding, I turned back to my drink.

  “You should be careful with that broken nose of yours,” he said in a slight accent.

  Turning back to him, I replied, “I am. That’s why I’m not dancing.”

  “I spotted you on the beach today. You shouldn’t be allowed to sit alone in that tiny scrap of a bathing suit. Someone could take advantage of you while you’re sleeping.”

  Seriously? Who was he? His voice was sexy but…“Oh, and who would do that? And in broad daylight?”

  “Me.” He flashed me a grin, and I did a double take. The dude was hot with a capital H-O-T. How did I miss that?

  “Oh? And how would you accomplish that?”

  He leaned in and the scent of the beach wafted up. Had he just come in from there? I ran a quick scan and noticed he wore short, flip flops, and a T-shirt that hugged his body.

  “It wouldn’t be difficult. I would lean over and run my tongue along the side of your neck, maybe lower, only to attract your attention.”

  He
was doing a great job of that already.

  “And?”

  “I would touch you in, oh, you might have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”

  That wasn’t fair. “You’re a tease,” I accused him.

  Looking as innocent as a lamb, he said, “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  Then he chuckled. A dark, deep one that ruffled my feathers a little.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  “Of course I did. I saw you standing alone, and I wanted to talk to you.”

  I tilted my head and gave him the stink eye. Only I doubted he could even see it in here because the light was so dim. “And that was your best pick up line.”

  “It wasn’t that bad. So. Who punched you in the keeser?”

  It was the way he said kisser that was a dead giveaway to his accent.

  “It wasn’t my kisser. It was my nose. And I didn’t get punched. I tripped over a chair and crashed.”

  “Ouch. Did you do that here?”

  Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I did it the other night. Great thing to do on vacation, huh?”

  He chuckled again and, but this time, I actually broke out in goosebumps.

  “So, where are you from?” he asked.

  “Savannah, Georgia. You?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Really? With your accent, I thought…” I lifted a shoulder.

  “Ah. I am Venezuelan, but I became an American citizen a few years ago.”

  We sort of stared at each other, and then he asked me if I wanted another drink. After we had a few, I learned quite a bit about him. He was here by himself to get away for a few days. He had a stressful job working as an attorney for a huge law firm in Atlanta. They handled international clients, and he traveled a lot. He was thirty, had never been married or even close. His name was Alejandro, and he was mighty sexy.

  And then Alejandro asked me to dance. He knew how to dance much better than me. I kept stepping on his toes, and since he was wearing flip flops, I wasn’t doing him any favors.

  “Lena, please, only look at my eyes. It will stop you from breaking any more of my toes.”