Brad and Chris each suffered from a massive case of prune hands waiting for the lava flow to cool. Big Island. Big doozy. The Front Desk would hear about this after they got a local recommendation for Hawaiian BBQ. Now where were their flip flops?
Brad wondered what life was like in his parallel universe. Was it exactly the same? Like EXACTLY? Or was it like Australia where everyone was left handed and the alphabet started with the letter ‘z’?
One thing for sure, unwinding the design concept for these men’s winter 2022 Caribbean Resort Floral Swim Briefs would be a lot easier if came from the Spring or Summer Collection.
Who grows roses in the tropics anyway?!? UGH.
Brad pounded his hand on the mirror in frustration. Mirror Brad did the exact same thing. Growing roses in the tropics didn’t make sense to him either. For once, Brad felt validated without needing to exit a car park. That felt nice.
That’s when Chris yelled from the bedroom, “Maybe they meant Rose from The Golden Girls? She grew old in Miami.”
Later when Chris was in the shower, Brad would ask Mirror Brad if they might take up sign language. Obviously, privacy was becoming an issue.
Chris was pretty sure no one saw him wipe out on those damn algae covered rocks. They were slippery and that worm with the trashy friend on Sesame Street….Whats his head.
Chris closed his eyes and hoped to god he remembered to put on the swimsuit. He didn’t need to go through all that again. When you rush people unnecessarily, things happen ok?!?
“I don’t know what we’re looking for Brad. It could be anything. Just like you, I’m only ‘looking’ because they gave us these matching swimmers with $100 inside. Do we even know these people?”
Brad didn’t know. There was just a lot going on. Yes, this was the second time he wore briefs to the beach instead of a speedo, but at least this time he wore black.
Chris affirmed Brad’s less see through garment as a technical step up on a public beach but not necessarily for a gay man. He also repeated his intention to inform not judge as he gave Brad another look over. Indeed, Brad looked great regardless. It wasn’t the end of the world, but briefs would take longer to dry.
To keep the positive vibe in spin, Brad then pointed out they successfully brought beach towels with them and not sheets like they did by accident the other week. Those were still wet. Ick!
Something seemed off. Curiously, Chris knew nothing was wrong.
Nothing at all.
In fact, the same instinct would strike Chris through five more poses garnering a random round of applause from the immediate circle of beach camps.
During the impromptu Vogue session, Chris’ attention tho drifted elsewhere. Not to the Saint but to the taco truck just yonder. Chris could see he caused a slight stir in the flow of the line and couldn’t recall eating breakfast.
Did he tell Brad to pick up some lunch? Where was his boyfriend anyway? They were rarely apart. Chris couldn’t concentrate an answer over the clapping. That welcomed but weird.
Now why did he stand up? Something was off….
Just then, Brad tapped Chris on the shoulder from behind causing him to burst into an uncontrollable scream lasting a full 45 excruciating seconds. The tap just wasn’t expected and Chris tripped into overload.
Luckily, the Vogue session bought enough brownie points for a gloss over by the immediate crowd but things still felt tense.
Brad and Chris each took turns switching into thongs under the guise of a cheap and very thin towel for insurance. Smack dab in the middle of the gay beach, it did the trick.
With somewhat surprise, what took longer to sink in for the immediate crowd was the location of the taco truck. What was it doing in the boys section? While it was clearly more important to note all were welcome, Brad and Chris couldn’t ignore the sporadic underground chatter that ensued.
It finally fizzled after Brad pointed out it boiled down to new zoning ordinances. Chris said it helped Brad used his head. Everyone paid attention and nothing debatable there.
Chris also highlighted that was the third save in an hour between them. What would happen to them when they get old?
With that Brad grabbed the suntan lotion and offered to slather it all over Chris. They’d gotten this far didn’t they? They’d figure it out along with everyone else.
Brad loved the great outdoors and his sexy new pose but not the bird brain photographer who apparently was thrown by the cactus.
If the angle was just a bit lower and the whole thing down a hair, with any photo app it could be fashioned into a lovely holiday hat someone like Princess Beatrice might wear in Palm Springs as a homage to the locals.
Brad made an adjustment in hopes Tumblr wouldn’t ban him once again. This was getting old and so was the Interwebs.
Just how long was the Webnets going to take to mature? Brad was born AFTER the internet and HE knows how to handle sex.
Well, please allow us to say this. As a species we’re still new to this level of consciousness and apparently it doesn’t hit everyone at the same time. Why don’t we just let that in and let it do whatever it does. Ok? Ok.
Brad and Chris’ neighbor Becky came over to help the boys figure out who was who after an impromptu ‘who wore it best’ competition went to round two. Well, probably three… Or was that the number of margaritas they had? If so, it might be four but likely five. Do shots count? That’s when either Brad or Chris said he thought they both looked like a 10.
The drunken bantor ended abruptly when Becky announced she’d be back in the morning if they still didn’t know who was who. Right now it really didn’t matter.
Becky then boldly poured herself two brimming margaritas, each with a heavy lining of salt at the rim and lushly garnished with fresh cut limes. She bid the two gentleman ‘good evening’ then walked herself out the door stating to the world she was “not apologizing for it!”
Woah. Becky was on it.
Well then, Brad and Chris might actually like her. That was going to be confusing.
As far as Brad knew ‘coral’ was only a color in the touristy areas of Central and South Florida.
Chris wasn’t so sure that was the case. According to the fashion rags coral sightings have been verified throughout Georgia and the Carolinas reaching as far north as Eastern Maryland around that Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel drive toll thingy. That jumbled road whatever it decided to be was an equal nightmare regardless.
Chris went on hypothesizing global warming could bring the coral sightings to the Southern Jersey Shore as soon as next summer, the Hamptons by 2025 and possibly all the way up to P-Town by 2030. The good news, coral would likely remain seasonal or if they were really lucky die from being pegged to a trendy Miami sound with an obvious expiration date.
Brad supported Chris’ predictions adding if they were going to be real about the whole thing they needed to acknowledge it could show show up in NYC on Amanda Lepore as pasties or fringe at any given moment. How many times can one do Tiffany blue?
With that Chris came up with a plan. If Amanda didn’t field this, the two of them could step in and head off coral in Miami or even Palm Springs if it goes rogue. There was no way to plan around anything else. Life was just too random and for whatever reason no one understands the nature of our own behavior of generating trends.
That’s when Chris realized Brad left to follow the very attractive man in the coral speedo into the restroom. Chris quickly followed suit. This yoga and meditation retreat was about to pay out.
Gustavio was miffed. When exactly during their hook up did Luke swallow his nipple ring? Whatever. Gustavio was ordering delivery from the food store. So far he had Crisco, cherry vodka and prunes. Was 22 too old for Ramen Noodles? That was ageist. Working on that obviously but the damage done. Anything else?
