A Tropically Ridiculous Trip

I love to travel. I endure many things if it means going somewhere tropical or going to a new place. This past week is a prime example. My family is insane. No one in my family is exempt from that statement, including myself. This particular vacation was with my stepmomster and stepsister to Jamaica. Starting any day at 3:30 a.m. is rough for me, but for my stepsister it’s a little taste of what hell must feel like. She was in a bad mood from the start that an upgrade on the plane couldn’t even fix.

After a long nap and a few bloody marys (perhaps a few too many for my stepmother), we arrived in Jamaica. We went through immigration with only a few glitches, one being that my stepmother could not get her words out when the officer asked “what is the purpose of your trip.” We got to the bus and I couldn’t wait to get to the resort to lie on the beach, until my stepsister’s face suddenly turned white and she looked as though someone had died.

“WHERE IS MY PURSE?” she screamed to us, as if we knew where she left it.

Anyone who knows my stepmother can only imagine her reaction. To put it lightly, she was livid. Why? You might ask. It wasn’t her bag, none of her valuables were in that bag, it’s not really her concern at all if a logical person were to look at this situation. My family is not logical, we act on impulse and we don’t know how to control our temper. As my stepsister sprinted back into the airport, my stepmother chased after her screaming like a wild animal that needed to be caged and shipped to the nearest zoo.

Twenty minutes later the bus was ready to leave and I saw my stepmother running back toward the bus, where I had been waiting with our luggage that was not lost. She climbed onto the bus in the least graceful manner and screamed “WHERE IS SHE?” Just so we are clear; I am not psychic. I had innocently been sitting on the bus waiting for the two morons to come back, hopeful that it wouldn’t take all day as I was losing precious time with the sun.

Still acting like a crazed lunatic, my stepmother gave me all of her stuff to take to the hotel and told me to go check in. At first I was terrified to be left alone with a bunch of strangers and a crazy Jamaican bus driver who, despite my headphones being in, continued to try and talk to me.

When I got to the hotel, I was given a glass of champagne which was almost immediately downed to relieve any and all stress I may have had from this avoidable situation. I went up to the room to change my clothes and head to the pool and just as I was ready to do that, in stormed the two escaped members of the insane asylum.

My stepsister had so intelligently left her purse in customs and immigration and after 45 minutes of screaming and nearly getting arrested, they escorted my step mother out and returned the purse to my stepsister. When I was told this story, I started to laugh until I was shot the death stare which always shuts me up pretty quickly.

That night we went to the resort’s “Japanese” restaurant. Unsure of how this day could get any funnier (for me at least), I then met Jason. Jason was our chef that night. He was as Jamaican as they come, but when he arrived at the cooking station he introduced himself as “Ching Ching” our “blackonese” waiter. He proceeded to put chicken with blackonese pepper and vegetables with “vacation butter” on my plate. I think Jason/Ching Ching was a little too focused on my entertainment and not focused enough on my food which was overcooked, but I didn’t even care.

Jamaican men are some of the most forward people I have ever met. If you are reading a book in your chair, they come up and sit with you and begin talking. If you are in the pool they come over and scream at you until you swim over to them. If you are asleep, you can bet that they will wake you up. Mr. Kool, Rice Krispies, Corn Flake, and whatever other Kellogg’s cereal came up to me were no exception in addition to the females that come bother you to do some sort of activity. I’m sorry Mad Cow and Sassy, but I am on vacation, physical activity is not going to happen.

My stepmom cannot resist these people that come up to her. She won’t ever do any sort of physical activity, but she will obnoxiously mock everyone to the point where they think she is funny. Most people who encounter her don’t even realize she is insulting them. It’s actually quite genius, unless of course you’re on the receiving end of it (which I often am).

We spent our vacation eating, drinking, and laying in the sun. Despite my crazy family, I will admit it was a pretty pleasant vacation. Five days later, we left Jamaica with a few hangovers, sunburns, a couple incidents of heat stroke, and all of our purses.