People Who Need People

In case you don’t recognize it, Dear Readers, that’s the Colony Hotel Cabana Club.  It’s located in Delray Beach, Florida and TH (The Husband- formerly known as “TBF”) and I just got back from one glorious sun-filled week there.

Florida?  In the summer? Yep. THE best kept travel secret around. The conditions were perfect.

The weather was hot.  The ocean and pool water were both warm and inviting.  We had fled the the thunderstorms, tornados and wildfire smoke-filled skies of Geneva, Illinois and we have sought warm tropic breezes and cold drinks.

We kept to a very strict routine.

7:00 a.m. Up and dress in bathing suits and cover ups.  Do Wordle and drink coffee (TH) Watch (me)

8:00 a.m.  Head to Walgreen’s or Publix for New York Times and one bottle of Diet Coke.  (Me)

9:00 a.m.  Breakfast at either Bagels With Deli or The Green Owl    Yum.

10:00 a.m. Head to the Cabana Club to spend the rest of the day at the beach (TH) and the pool (Me)

3:30 p.m. Leave the club

End of rigorous daytime schedule.

The nights were just as grueling.

5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. Happy Hour and dinner

(Think Margarita for him.  Diet Coke for me.)

7:00 p.m. until 10:00 p.m. Drinks and people-watching from the front porch of the Colony.

10:01 p.m. Go to bed.

We did this for seven glorious days.  We had highly-cooperative weather, wonderful food and a lovely respite from reality.

But the thing that struck me the most about this trip was the people we met.

They were fun.  And I want you to meet them, too.

(Ahem. The following names have been changed to protect the innocent- and the not-so-innocent.)

My very first dip in the pool I met Carrie and her husband- let’s call him Art.  They were originally from Boston.   Art was in Real Estate. Carrie?  She looked like a grandmotherly housewife.  If she had a job, she never discussed it.

The moment I waded in, Carrie was Johnny-On-The-Spot. She noodled into my personal space and began talking.

Pool Sidebar: EVERYONE at the beach club was heavily into these things.  Why?

Anyhow…in about six minutes Carrie had learned everything she wanted to know (and what I was willing to share) about TH and me. Art told me alot about the real estate market in Delray – hot and prices going up all the time- the beach club and why they belong to it, Delray and why they moved there, their kids, grandkids and political views. Then TH came swimming up to us and the conversation got serious.

“Where’s the best place to get fish for dinner around here?” queried TH.

They knew.

They knew a lot about EVERYTHING and for the rest of the week they happily shared their opinions on all subjects whenever they saw me.

I didn’t mind. They were kind and well-meaning and actually feigned interest when I told them that my Boston grandson Sam had just gone to sleepaway camp in Maine.

Now those are good people.

My next close encounter came in the shallow end -again- with The Three Ladies From Naples.

I never did catch their names but they were on a girl’s trip from the other side of Florida and we struck up a lively conversation on how tough Life is when you need a vacation from your permanent vacation.

At least two of of the The Three Ladies spoke to me, that is.  The other one just glowered, sulked, pouted and shot me dirty look whenever I opened my mouth.

Lest you think I was imagining this ill will, TH laughed and teased me about it.

“She sure hates you,” he snickered.  “Whenever  you say anything to the other two, she gets mad.”

“I know, right?” I concurred.  “I have no idea why but she absolutely HATES me.”

Hater Lady proceeded to undermine every restaurant review I gave to her group, nix any activity that I suggested they might try and took great pains to let me know that virtually any idea that came from me was not even worth considering.

I just laughed.  It provided days of amusement to watch her put the kibosh on all my good dinner suggestions.

My next noodle encounter was pasta of a very different sort.

Meet Carmella and her spouse, Tony.  They were at the Beach Club for a few days baby-sitting their only grandchild- Caesare.

And although Carmella informed me at once that they hailed from Long Island, (pronounced “Lon-Guyislan”) I suspected her of being born somewhere near Newark, New Jersey.

My Carmela had the same accent, fingernails and basic contempt for her husband as the Soprano version.  But she was hilarious.  And when she dismissed Tone (when he wasn’t in earshot) as “a waste of space,”  I went into silent hysterics.

She was buxom, bawdy, tattooed and completely sure of her opinions. And with three cop sons, she went pretty hard on the current Biden administration.  I enjoyed every close encounter with her.

MSNBC BULLETIN: Let’s get the politics out of the way right now. Yes.  I did feel guilty venturing into De Santis Land.  No. I do not endorse in any way his hateful ideas or actions as governor. Yes.  I had decided in advance to make no mention of how I felt whilst I was in a bathing suit.  No.  I didn’t exactly keep to my decision.  Yes and No.  I did not change one person’s mind on politics while I was in Florida.  Most of the people I met shared my opinion and I didn’t bother with the other faction.

I met terrific people from Pennsylvania, New York City, New York City and New York City.  At no time did I encounter another person from Chicago.

And then there was Stephanie.

I had to save the best for last.

TH and I did not meet Stephanie in the pool.  We met her over dinner at the bar at Cut 432.

She and two other gal pals were having a boozy Happy Hour next to TH and I.

I happened to glance over in her general direction as she ordered some drink fantasia with alcohol, coffee whipped cream and only God (and Aaron the bartender) knows what else in it.

Somehow, before I could say, “Women’s Christian Temperance Union,” I had been coerced into tasting her Espresso Martini cocktail and forced to sample her appetizer.  (I no longer know what the heck she made me eat.  It must have been the martini.)

But that’s not all.

Before you could say “Ann Landers,” I heard her doling out marital advice – unasked for I’m sure- to TH!

And TH was actually listening!

OMG.

Steph was so invasive but well-meaning that by the end of dinner, we had not only invited her out for the next night but I had secured a place at her Thanksgiving table this November.

Her advice was so great that I just might go. Oh and I have just now remembered what the heck she made me try.  Oysters Rockefeller!

So thank you, new found friends. You helped me connect and see the world through tiger striped sunglasses.

You were cozy, welcoming and informative.

You laughed at my jokes and turned me on to some very good peel ‘n eat shrimp and I will never forget you.

See you in the shallow end.

Next time, I’ll bring my noodle.