In yesterday’s post, I said that I hadn’t a chance in hell of hooking up while on my trip to Mexico. The situation seemed more and more desperate when I looked around and saw only two types of people: couples, and couples with children. I searched ever bar, pool, pool bars then every bar again. Nothing. Of course, my chances were decreased even more by the huge rash I developed on my back the first day from god-knows-what.

The night of the Bachelorette party, we walked around with penis straws and whistles…still, no attention. For a brief period that night, I had the Bachelorette’s penis flashy headband on. Nothing. I spent the majority of my time third wheeling with Charlene and Joe (btw- thanks guys).

The night of the wedding, I (naturally) go myself quite wrecked. The rest of the folks who were also quite wrecked went out to the club on the resort.

So we get to the club. It was not busy. The resort in general was at about 40% capacity, and from that about 90% were, as I mentioned yesterday, there with their spouse. So there were slim pickings. I did my best though. Because I dance so awesomely (for those who have never seen me dance, I just flat out lied there), some kid came up almost immediately after arriving and started grinding with me. I didn’t push him off for a song or two, I mean, it’s not like I had a ton of options, but I needed a drink, so I left him and walked to the bar.

If you’ve never seen me drunk, let me tell you that I am usually a happy drunk (unless you are asking me if I am ok, then, as another of the wedding guests will tell you, I am not a happy drunk). So, standing at the bar, I immediately made friends. Unfortunately, the only person around to be friendly with was a skinny biker guy, probably old enough to be my uncle. I made excuses about why I couldn’t dance with him, but then he just grabbed me out to the dance floor.

I was making barfy faces at the others in my group, and I found out the next that they saw, thought about rescuing me, and decided it was ok to let me finish the song in agony. The young guy from before was not quite as cruel. He stepped up to the biker dude and pushed him out of the way, blocking any chance the guy had touching my body by completely covering it with his. I didn’t mind. The biker guy did. He kept trying to pull me back to him…but I mean come on….on a resort, that I’m at for only a week, you think I’m going to waste it on the skinny biker dude? No, I am going to accept my position under the young guy who looks pretty great without a shirt.

There was some back and forth that went on, but, unfortunately, no real physical altercation took place.

The next day, I was lounging on the beach with some of the other wedding goers, when the young guy walked up. Here is how our conversation went:

Him: Hey. Don’t I know you from somewhere?

Me: Yeah, we met at the club last night.

Him: Huh. Oh. Sorry, I was probably inappropriate, I was really drunk.

Me: I didn’t mind. I was drunk too.

Him: Ok, well see you around. (Then he sees me reading a book- Slash’s autobiography). I like to read. Do you like to read.

Me: Yeah. That’s why I’m doing it.

I probably should have asked him to go for a drink or something. It’s not like I had anything else going on.