10:35 p.m. - 2005-11-20
Yeah, anyone on the starboard side of the ship this afternoon can skip ordering the porn tonight, because they already got their fill.
But, I digress.
I picked Max up at 11, we sort of ran at eachother and jumped into a huge bear hug -n- kiss that had some of the other folks in the crowd whistling and giggling. It was so tacky romantic, but it just sort of happened, ya know?
We walked, bouncing along happily to the car hands linked, and just sort of staring at eachother like idiots. It was pathetic. We drove out of the dock and went to the famous harbor area that sports a H00ters restaurant that serves the hot wings my boy has been craving for months. I have to admit, it was adorable how the waitresses made over him, gaga over the gorgeous Caribbean babe. Yeah, he's a babe. Our girl actually blushed a couple of times when she took our order. It was funny.
Max is a cool guy, but I have ot admit, he's also a little weird. He puts salt in his beer. Salt! Says it makes it more bitter. Whatever floats your boat boy...
We finished up lunch, his treat, and wandered around the harbor, taking in the views and lovely walking weather. He's a big tease, and loves word play. You have to be sharp with this one or you'll be left behind.
I learned a lot more about him, because he talks non-stop. Its cute. He's a story-teller. I love that. I now know that he's known as a nuicence at home because he really enjoys stirring up trouble, then splitting before it all unfolds. His mother is a very good woman who is on her second marriage with the man Max considers his father. They constantly tell him that his cruise life is no good and he needs to move back home with them. In St. Vincent families build their homes on eachother's land so that they have these commune like arrangements. His house is on the top of the hill, his moms in the middle, uncles and aunts further out, cousins, neices, nephews, you name it. I take it that baby making is the number one hobby on the island.
Which brings me to the trip back to the boat...
Max and I arrived at the boat and parked in the drop off lot starboard of the boat in front of customs.
We just sort of laid the seats back and curled toward eachother, neither wanting him to go back, but knowing he only had an hour till he was due on post.
We talked for a bit, about future plans to get together, then he got very serious. He asked me if I knew how to protect myself against a man who was attacking me. I sort of said, well, yeah, blah, blah, blah. He said, now, if I were attacking you what would you do, tell me. (Now don't get creeped out. He wasn't being menacing at all, and there were 20 cops and customs agents within screaming distance.)
Anyway, I said I'd kick, bite, scream profanitites, scratch out eyeballs, you know, the usual. Then I said I probably wouldn't bite, because I was afraid of bio-hazards. He agreed. Then he taught me how to make a fist and punch without hurting myself and making a big impact without a lot of stregnth. Next he taught me how to cut off a windpipe with only two fingers or knuckles. And he made me practice, gently of course.
I think more than anything, that touched me the most. He cares enough to want to protect me, even if it means he has to teach me to protect myself.
Then we just sort of launched at eachother, and things got a little out of hand, and articles of clothing came off or got pushed away. Every now and then we'd come up for air so we could check the parking lot for spectators and check the gangway to make sure it was still open. (Very important. I like ht eguy a lot, but I don't need a live in Caribbean right now.)
I have a very small car...
Anyway, a couple of times, busses full of crew drove by, and so did a couple of cars, but what neither of us realized until way too late was that anyone with a balcony or along the panoramic windows on that side of the ship was getting quite a show.
We just sort of forgot where we were. It was all hazy. Or maybe that was the fog on the windows. Max looked over again and saw a couple of security men looking at their watches at the gangway and realized that it was definately time to go. An hour late. So he left me his sweatshirt (that smells deliciously like him - no snarks YOU) and said to keep warm until I see him next.
I drove off with my hair looking like twigs, my face flushed, my head still a lot fuzzy from the, um, pleasurable, satisfactory activities (and yes we were VERY careful. Nothing went anywhere potentially serious, because we are both emphatically opposed to bio-hazards and baby making at this juncture).
I made it as far as Sixweasels' because my head was swimming, and being a girl, I had to dish a bit.
He called during our dinner to say that he missed me already, that I'm beautiful (yeah, I'm officially beautiful now. And all it took was a littel booty-lite.), a wonderful person and he likes me VERY much. He also told me that the crew/officers liked me and Six so much that he did not get in trouble for being late, because they were so delighted that Max hooked up with the "nice girl with the black and white hair who was with the redhead."
I have to admit. Max is by far the best lover I have ever had. He is perfect. Amazing. Like I had no idea that they came like that. Like straight out of my imagination. And he gives me simple gifts to honor our friendship and freakiness, and he called to make sure I was OK after.
We did decide that though we are insane about eachother, it is too early and complicated to make any committments. So I will enjoy the residual Maxness for a bit longer, then get back on the dating horse and see what's out there. He's setting an awefully high bar for any future applicants for the job. I've been treated like a princess and I like it. I feel honored, treasured and enjoyed.
I'll miss him. I'll miss his hugs and his tenderness, his humor and his passion.
But, I'll be seeing him soon, and until then, there will be letters, packages and phone calls from exotic ports.
This I can get used to.