A statue in Old San Juan (and the closest I got to swimming with dolphins).

I had a feeling. I did. That's why in the last post I included this sentence: "Provided the universe doesn't fuck something up, of course." That was my attempt to prevent the inevitable, to appease the universe by acknowledging its omnipotence all the while hoping it might possibly grant me the joy of a dolphin swim.

But, not so much. The dolphin swim was cancelled due to "lack of participation." I had figured it would get cancelled due to weather or some freak dolphin flu or something. But lack of participation? I was incredulous. "Who wouldn't want to swim with dolphins?!" I asked Rob. "Look! It says right here on the excursion descriptions: Dolphin Swim, HIGHLIGHT. It's a freaking highlight!!!! As it should be! Because who wouldn't want to swim with DOLPHINS?!"

I did some hardcore pouting for five minutes and then moved on with my life. (Well, I may have repeated the "WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO SWIM WITH DOLPHINS?!" question multiple times throughout the evening, but just because I never got a sufficient answer. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't want to swim with dolphins? Did I mention it's a freaking HIGHLIGHT?!!)

We switched to an excursion that would take us across the island of St. Maarten to one of the very best beaches. I was more than happy to go to a really nice beach, but I knew it wouldn't compare to swimming with dolphins. However, the promise of unlimited rum persuaded me that this excursion would be an acceptable alternative. I had every intention of drinking a dolphin's weight in rum.

As I settled under an umbrella on my cushioned beach chair with my first rum punch in hand, I started to wonder if perhaps the universe had done me a favor after all. This place was fucking incredible. I'd describe it to you but I would just sound like a vacation pamphlet with the sandy white beach that stretches on forever and the warm aquamarine sea and the rocky cliffs that surround and protect the location. (I'll eventually get some photos posted.) Suffice it to say, it was an enchanted place. If I were a mermaid I would totally live there.

But soon enough I discovered that the universe had, indeed, brought me there for a reason. The beach was located on the French side of the island and, being a French beach, it was also a topless one. That's not, in and of itself, a complaint. I have no problem with folks going topless. Hell, I was half a rum punch away from going topless myself. The thing is, toplessness is just like bikini wearing. There are those who should and those who shouldn't. And let me just say that of those who did, not nearly enough were ones who should have. I actually found myself wishing that these women were wearing bikinis, which is a pretty big accomplishment of the universe.

But the lesson wasn't over yet. I had melted into my chair, eyes closed, well on my way to a state of nirvana when, without explanation, my eyelids fluttered open. And what did I behold but THE most unattractive couple I've ever seen, utterly naked. Did I mention the nudist resort that was also on this beach? For the most part those folks stayed on their section of sand, but this couple felt the need to strut their stuff down the length of the shore. And by strut their stuff, I mean shock and appall anyone unfortunate enough to glance their way. It was at this point that I surrendered, with a shudder, to the universe. I withdrew my previous skinny bitch bikini snootiness and conceded that, indeed, anyone in the world can wear as skimpy a swimsuit as they so please and, actually, SHOULD wear such a suit given the alternative and, moreover, just because I may happen to own my bikini does not, in fact, make me better than other people and please just please don't make me look at any more Merv-like naked people dear god PLEASE.

It was at this point, as I recall, that I began drinking rum on the rocks. Really, when the rum is flowing and free, why be bothered with mixing it into punch? Soon I had decided that everyone on that beach was beautiful in their own way. I'd like to think this was due to the universe's lesson, but I suspect it was more likely a result of the rum.

The rum also successfully eased the pain of not getting to spend the day with dolphins. In fact, I may have even, while swimming in the sea, declared, "FUCK THE DOLPHINS!" I meant them no personal affront, I assure you. But, the truth is, I was quite content right where I was. And I figure that actually the universe did me a favor after all since the endless pursuit of a dolphin swim provides just cause for taking many more tropical vacations.