The long-awaited honeymoon. Oh, how I planned and schemed and plotted to make it unforgettable for my soon-to-be-wife. I so rarely did anything special for her; I had some serious making-up to do. My plan was to honeymoon in a tropical locale so we could dive together -- my wife loves scuba diving, but I wasn't certified. Hmmm... I couldn't scuba dive. The plan took on a new level of complexity: I proceeded to surreptitiously take an open water diving course and get certified. This really wasn't as difficult as it sounds, since for our entire 2-year engagement, we lived in separate states and only saw each other once a month (which sucked, but that's another story).
Scuba certification out of the way, now I needed to figure out where to actually go. Since this was before the big Internet boom and the advent of sites like Expedia.com and Travelocity.com, I hit up a local travel agent for ideas. After much discussion and reading of tropical resort propaganda, I made a decision. By the way, ever notice the models in those brochures look nothing like the people you actually see at the resort? Think of a speedo with 400lbs of oiled, hairy man-flesh oozing out of it. Bit of a mood-killer on your honeymoon, but I guess that's what all the 'free' alcohol was for. I digress...
We were going to Jamaica! Mexican border towns notwithstanding, it was going to be my first taste of international travel. We were booked for a week at the Sandals resort in Montego Bay. I kept our destination from my bride-to-be -- one last wedding surprise. That, and the fact that I booked the second best room the resort had (the Presidential Suite). It scares me bit (in hindsight) that I didn't even flinch at getting the loan to cover the cost. Air Force 2nd Lieutenants don't make much. Look it up. And, yes, I know the enlisted troops make even less while doing more work, but that's not the subject of this story.
Then on the night of our wedding, a nice little sack of crap gets dropped in my lap at our reception. I was talking to my cousin Chris who was telling me about his honeymoon in Jamaica. Allow me to hit the highlights: he and his wife were almost kidnapped, they had to hand over all their cash for 'safe passage', they were almost mugged on several occasions, they got food poisoning, and their luggage was stolen. Thanks, Chris. You really made my fucking night.
Shit. What the hell did I get us into? Well, in too deep now. No sense in telling my bride any of this. Besides, I seemed to conveniently forget all that in the bliss of the evening.
The next day we packed up, and the day after that we were on our way to Jamaica.
Comments:
CrystallineTulip (May 12, 2007. 07:07am)
Oh, no. Hopefully none of that happened to you. My husband and I didn't get to have a honeymoon - we barely had enough money to have a decent wedding (thank God for moms who know how to make something out of nothing). Your gesture sound so sweet for your wife, though.