Deperate Housewives Coyote Ugly
I just recovered from the cruise. It took a couple of days for my head to stop swimming. The cruise was great, lots of book friends but it was soooo tiring. Pictures are posted on my website www.ninafoxx.com/schedule, under pictures 2005.
The authors on board were great speakers and the book club members were exceptionally warm. I met several ladies from Circle of Friends (again) and Tabahani from LA. I had the honor of swimming with them in the blue, blue waters of Los Cabos and sharing jelly fish stings. It was all good though, and, no, I didn't let anyone pee on me to help the pain. We survived. We took a water taxi back to the ship. Some locals helped us onto the small boats from the beach, felt us up, then wanted a tip for patting our butts. I don't think so.
This was a working trip for me, but the best part was meeting new friends. I had the honor of meeting Bernice McFadden (again, but this was the first time we talked) aka Geneva Holliday. She had her lovely daughter with her who seems to be growing up to be quite a lady. And then there was Reshonda Tate Billingsley, My soror. She is a news anchor out of Houston as well as an author. I must say I was under the impression that she wrote Christian Fiction, but was informed that she didn't. What she writes is called "Inspirational with some edge." Apparently that is very different. Call me wrong, but when someone tells me they write Christian fiction, I feel like I am in the presence of a nun and I have to mind my P's and Q's and all the other little bad letters in between, but Reshonda was down right all right. Note that from this point on, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
A few of us went into Puerto Vallarta, all excited because this was one of the ports where the Love Boat used to stop. We spent a leisurely morning at the beach where we tried to find out whom we all knew in common. Oh, let me just say, Do I know you? I don't think we have ever met so please stop telling folks that. If you see me out, introduce yourself so at least I will know who it is I am supposed to have talked to on the phone for an hour. You know who you are. Anyway, back to the story. We got bored with the beach after awhile and found our way to downtown. In every Mexican tourist town there is a Senor Frogs or a Carlos & Charlies and we mad a bee line for it. Some cabbie took us there and promised to come back in time for us to get back on the ship before it sailed. Riiight. Maybe tomorrow?
We were quiet at first. We ordered an appetizer and a drink or two (mine was virgin), and we chatted with some fellow ship mates that were dressed alike. A couple. They did this every day. Then the trouble started. I swear Mexican drinks must be stronger or something. They started playing the tequila song and everyone (except me) had blue tequila poured down their throats. I was challenged to a table dance by a skinny white girl who swore up and down that she was a "funky white girl". Why she picked me I don't know. They made balloon hats and forced them onto our heads, and before long, a fellow passenger started acting like the publicist for the celebrities in her midst. One of those in our group became Whitney Houston and another became Vivica Fox. I swear they must not have TV down there because they announced this on the mike and folks were coming over to talk to Whitney and Vivica. The music got louder and since I had complained about the lack of alcohol in our drinks, they served us another, but this time, they put the hooch on the side.
You know, I sat there and watched my friends just loose their minds. One man took off his shirt and lap danced on some woman while up on the stage. He said he didn't remember that later, when he bought a book back on the ship. Then they planned a sort of musical chairs game, only folks had to run around the restaurant and gather items from other patrons. It started out simple, pens, lighters, and then progressed to pants and underwear. Folks gave up their underwear! One woman (not in our party) gave up her bra and her panties. Her husband left her to find her own way back to the ship and we pointed her down the hall like the nice people we are.
It was over too soon. There is no telling what happens when you are 1000 miles from home. I have no pictures that incriminate my friends, old or new, 'cause I'm not that kind of person. And pictures can be faked. I don't have video either because I have been told it didn't happen if you don't have video footage. I gotta say I will always remember the Desperate Housewives who went Coyota Ugly. Just keep in mind I get paid to lie for a living.
The authors on board were great speakers and the book club members were exceptionally warm. I met several ladies from Circle of Friends (again) and Tabahani from LA. I had the honor of swimming with them in the blue, blue waters of Los Cabos and sharing jelly fish stings. It was all good though, and, no, I didn't let anyone pee on me to help the pain. We survived. We took a water taxi back to the ship. Some locals helped us onto the small boats from the beach, felt us up, then wanted a tip for patting our butts. I don't think so.
This was a working trip for me, but the best part was meeting new friends. I had the honor of meeting Bernice McFadden (again, but this was the first time we talked) aka Geneva Holliday. She had her lovely daughter with her who seems to be growing up to be quite a lady. And then there was Reshonda Tate Billingsley, My soror. She is a news anchor out of Houston as well as an author. I must say I was under the impression that she wrote Christian Fiction, but was informed that she didn't. What she writes is called "Inspirational with some edge." Apparently that is very different. Call me wrong, but when someone tells me they write Christian fiction, I feel like I am in the presence of a nun and I have to mind my P's and Q's and all the other little bad letters in between, but Reshonda was down right all right. Note that from this point on, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
A few of us went into Puerto Vallarta, all excited because this was one of the ports where the Love Boat used to stop. We spent a leisurely morning at the beach where we tried to find out whom we all knew in common. Oh, let me just say, Do I know you? I don't think we have ever met so please stop telling folks that. If you see me out, introduce yourself so at least I will know who it is I am supposed to have talked to on the phone for an hour. You know who you are. Anyway, back to the story. We got bored with the beach after awhile and found our way to downtown. In every Mexican tourist town there is a Senor Frogs or a Carlos & Charlies and we mad a bee line for it. Some cabbie took us there and promised to come back in time for us to get back on the ship before it sailed. Riiight. Maybe tomorrow?
We were quiet at first. We ordered an appetizer and a drink or two (mine was virgin), and we chatted with some fellow ship mates that were dressed alike. A couple. They did this every day. Then the trouble started. I swear Mexican drinks must be stronger or something. They started playing the tequila song and everyone (except me) had blue tequila poured down their throats. I was challenged to a table dance by a skinny white girl who swore up and down that she was a "funky white girl". Why she picked me I don't know. They made balloon hats and forced them onto our heads, and before long, a fellow passenger started acting like the publicist for the celebrities in her midst. One of those in our group became Whitney Houston and another became Vivica Fox. I swear they must not have TV down there because they announced this on the mike and folks were coming over to talk to Whitney and Vivica. The music got louder and since I had complained about the lack of alcohol in our drinks, they served us another, but this time, they put the hooch on the side.
You know, I sat there and watched my friends just loose their minds. One man took off his shirt and lap danced on some woman while up on the stage. He said he didn't remember that later, when he bought a book back on the ship. Then they planned a sort of musical chairs game, only folks had to run around the restaurant and gather items from other patrons. It started out simple, pens, lighters, and then progressed to pants and underwear. Folks gave up their underwear! One woman (not in our party) gave up her bra and her panties. Her husband left her to find her own way back to the ship and we pointed her down the hall like the nice people we are.
It was over too soon. There is no telling what happens when you are 1000 miles from home. I have no pictures that incriminate my friends, old or new, 'cause I'm not that kind of person. And pictures can be faked. I don't have video either because I have been told it didn't happen if you don't have video footage. I gotta say I will always remember the Desperate Housewives who went Coyota Ugly. Just keep in mind I get paid to lie for a living.
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