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She was going to have a lot of time on her hands, and she already had so much she didn't know what to do with it. She wasn't much of a cleaner when bored or an organizer. She should be of course, but alas.
Perhaps she would write a mystery finally: Macon Murder
"It practically writes itself. There could be a bumbling British detective, and I could be the victim - a blisteringly intelligent with no signs to show of it madwoman who used to be kind of hot."
"well, you already murder yourself, so may as well make some dough off of it."
"exactly. Thank you for your support."
Her feet were still blistered from walking in shoes she thought were cool to see an Indian festival where she didn't really even pay attention to the OGs. She was distracted. It felt like she had been distracted for months, and wasn't that what love might be? Who knew.
Today, she was kind of tired of it and was going to stuff her face with some Mexican food she probably shouldn't splurge on, but alas. She was in buck-up/survival mode. It was easy except for the droning monotony.
Florida had been her most recent happiest memory - even though there was no amusement parks or fireworks.
"We should go jet-skiing"
"Oh, if you drive. I'm terrible at risky things with motors - that's why I have a manual lawn mower."
He looked disappointed, but that was no longer her cross to bear. She had wanted to go to Busch gardens, and the most adventurous couple on jet skis she had have seen - one was dead at 38 and the other was in jail for dealing fentanayl. Life was a freakshow.
The car ride down was fine. She tried not to talk too much and also was aware that the silences were too heavy. He didn't give her much to work with, but he was fine stopping at Arby's. He ordered the wrong thing, but her's was delish. She of course tried not to talk about nor mention the cows, but she failed.
"I don't do this very often. I try to imagine myself having to kill everything I eat. Cows have this superpower of being able to transmit emotion. It's good for the herd's survival I guess. Now, they're just in individual pens and it breaks my heart, but this is so good with Arby sauce."
He smirked, "I was that guy in college that made fun of vegetarians and asked them to think of the feelings of the farm workers."
"I don't understand."
"It was stupid."
He was not, and he had such an unreadable face, but it always seemed to express vague disappointment. It made her dance like someone was shooting at her soles.
They hopped back in the car and headed south on the superhighway. They had stopped half way. Upon entering the city they were destined for, he started to get slightly more animated.
"ah, that was the Marriott I was going to pick. I'm glad I didn't." It was located in a strangled assortment of multiple tattoos parlors and liquor stores. "I thought a lot about which one to pick. I hope this one is good. I thought about doing the J.W., but didn't want to pull that trigger."
She was content. She didn't care, and she realized this was all free for him anyway. He was going to net gain, and she was going to be pleasant, distracting companion.
She asked him again, "if you want to jet ski, I'd try, but I'm definitely not going to be some fun hot shot. I once snowmobiled with my fam in Yellowstone. I loved the serene beauty and wasn't into racing. I don't even like speeding on the road unless I'm channeling my rage."
"It doesn't matter. Look, this is it."
He pointed to an aqua lined former vacation rental apartments. She would eventually treasure every morsel of this vision.
Once there, he wanted to nap and do his crosswords. She actually did kind of think it was hot that he was a triple titanium member or whatever. After they had drinks and fish sandwiches at the bard - name Kokomo's of course, she said, "I'm going to go swimming in the pool."
"OK, I'm still going to stay in the room."
"That's fine."
She changed into her black - not the yellow one - swimsuit. He looked at her she guesses because he said "wow, that bathing suit leaves nothing to the imagination." She kind of blushed and pulled the ruffled chest tighter.
"I was more worried about this sex bruise on my hip, but I have another bathing suit."
"no, it's fine. whatever."
Whatever indeed. She self-consciously made her way down to the pool with a fake volcano and fountain in the bend. It was huge and cute and overlooked the inlet. It was salt water which she loved, and she got the luxury of floating and thinking.
When she returned to the hotel room to the kind of stranger, she was soft as a petal, but he hadn't yet fallen asleep. She took her green leather journal and went on the balcony to give him space. She got bored after a while and came in.
"we should go somewhere for dinner. There's this cuban place." He texted her.
"it looks great."
They walked to it. He was in front of her as they could only go single file, and she mentioned she thought it was like Saudi Arabia.
He might not have heard. They ordered mojitos and exotic yummy dishes in the historic place overlooking the water.
Afterwards, he wanted to go out on the town. They never held hands. They never kissed. She was now the one who wanted what someone else wouldn't give.
"I've got to get more of my zyn's. Let's drive to the store."
"OK." He looked at a place near the store they bought their beer and nicotine at, "that looks like a good spot - we should go there tomorrow. It looks like where the locals go." If, by that, he meant that it was kind of tucked away and boring.
She, of course answered, "sure."
They headed back and went to bed early. He probably fucked her. Up until recently, he had been a night and morning guy. She was startled by the variance in their lovemaking, sometimes passionate, sometimes like what she imagined a whore would do.
The next morning, he was headed to do the transaction regarding his mother who was in scientology and now dead. He didn't like to talk about it, but he vented.
She said she'd see him later. After he left, she saw his sunglasses and texted, "want me to bring your sunglasses to the lobby." He texted back "no thanks".
She wouldn't have gone anywhere in Florida without hers, and she assumed she was focused.
Of course she chose the other bathing suit - the yellow one that had been purchased twice to get right. This trip had been a lot of preparation for her. She had bought new flip flops too. She was ready.
Downstairs, she asked the doormen how to walk to the beach. They pointed it out. She was confused when she got there as it seemed like she was in a hotel parking lot, but she made her way onto the beach. The old familiar communion of water and waves and her happened. She rested and went into the water four times. He had been interested in the park nearby. When she got bored, she walked towards it, but turned around when it looked like it was for cars only.
Eventually, they got drunk.
"you know. It will sound strange, but I like you better than I liked my ex-husband. The thing I learned was to not fake love."
"oh."
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