The Jamaican Husband Story - Part 1 : First Encounters

On our second morning in Negril, as I’m standing with mom waiting on her omelet to finish cooking at the omelet bar a particularly enthusiastic fella comes bebopping his way over to us…

(Borrowed from facespace)

 “Hi mommy!” he spouts out to my mom, and then turns to me with a “you look grumpy”. No shit Sherlock, I just rolled outta bed 10 minutes ago and your happy ass is a bit much for this hour of the morning! “Just a little sleepy still” I sweetly replied back, and flashed my best half smile. “What’s your name?” he asks, and no sooner had my name left my lips did I get the quintessential “ooh like the football team!?”. Yes, yep that’s it. My parents named me Chelsea after a bunch of sweaty ball-kickin men. Precisely.

“I’m Shadrick” he replied, extending a hand. “Chadwick?” I asked? “Shhhadddrrrickkk” he corrected. OOH. GOTCHA I thought to myself. As I watched him throw out a few fancy-footed dance moves in the middle of the restaurant. Bouncy boy.... Stand still please.

“I’m leading beach aerobics in a bit are you going to join??” As if my blank stare didn’t answer his question, he waited eagerly for a response. I held back laughter as a YEA RIGHT came out. He smirked and started to turn away. Not before one more quick look back, and a “haven’t forgotten my name yet have you?” “SHADDDRRIICKKK” I answer.

Shortly thereafter I was finally getting all settled into my beach chair, sunscreen applied, ipod on the perfect playlist when I feel a hand tapping my arm. It’s our second day. I haven’t made any friends yet. Who is bothering me now!?

Damn Italianos. “I’m Roberto… come with me!” I can barely even ask him where before I’m being pulled up outta my lounge chair and into the shallow ocean water. Beach Aerobics. Of course. With SHADDRRICKKKK

Me in the white. Roberto in the blue next to me. Shadrick nice and dry on the sand.

And next thing I know we’re jogging on the beach. Do I look like Bo Derek to you?! Believe me…. they both got their fair share of glares that morning!

After a rough thirty minutes of flailing around in the waves, we all huddle up for a group chant. Because if publicly displaying your out-of-shapeness in front of an entire resort isn’t embarrassing enough, a huddled mass of sweaty folks shouting at the top of their lungs will surely garner some onlookers!

Apparently my bubbly personality, athleticism and grace all impressed SHADDRRICCKKKK though, as that wouldn’t be my last encounter with him that trip. Hook, line and sinker.

TO BE CONTINUED!

(Updated: Part 2)