It's not surprising that I'd have difficulty fitting in.
Well, actually, that wasn't the case at this wedding.
The groom's family was very welcoming and kind... just a little snooty.
While the family was doing their best to make my sister and me feel included and comfortable, I can't describe the sense of relief that overcame me once family members of the bride's began to notice us, and embrace us.
HUGE sigh of relief.
The most... comfortable people to hang out with were this funky family of five. The mom is my mom's second cousin, and apparently she really likes my mom, so she came at us like a mother hen. That was nice.
The dad was a complete silver fox.
They had three kids: two teenaged daughters and an older son.
The mom and the three kids were extremely thin... frail-looking. The dad was bulky.
Of course, these were first impressions, made on Christmas eve... a frigid... tiresome Christmas eve. Everyone was in hoodies, jackets, scarves... there were a few pairs of gloves out there... so, absolutely correct assessments could not be made.
Then came Christmas, the day of the Mayan Baths... the day when we all bared skin and swam around.
Surprises rocked the day.
There was the Young'un... whom I finally took notice of (the prior night he had been following me around... always on the lookout for anything I might have needed-- giving me three empanadas when he was told not to give me any because I didn't sing for the posadas. I remember wondering why in the world that cat in the smooth tench-coat kept appearing everywhere I walked in that hacienda) after he stood under the waterfall... that's an image I'll whip out on depressed days, 'cause that shit was GLORIOUS.
Then there was the funky family.
We were all changing in the designated co-ed dressing room.
First were the daughters and their mom-- totally skinny, as predicted. Since we were closer to them than anyone else, we decided to enter the baths with them.
As we waded in the cave, I noticed a ridiculously muscular man in the pool with us... completely tatted up.
The man? The dad! He had the best body of ANYONE present, young and old. It had all of us, guys and girls, in awe.
A little later, I saw the son emerge from the water-- BANGING body. Very thin, very, very thin... but all muscle-- that too was pretty ridiculous.
So, I'm pretty good at people-watching, right? I did that for god knows how many hours, as I sat in the very comfortable cave, straight chillin'.
What I caught most were the astonished glances the women would give each other when they're see the mom and dad of the funky family.
He was very attentive of his wife, and never swam anywhere away from her. The dude held her hand whenever they'd leave one of the pools.
Women were GAWKING... and I'm sure they were all thinking the same thing: how the fuck did Olive Oyl over here land such a beefcake?! And why the fuck is MY dude such a douche bag?
But I mean, HELLO! Popeye is bananas about Olive Oyl.
I was loving all of it. I was loving the husband envy, I was loving the tenderness of Burly Man for his sweet frail wife, I was loving the muscle envy from the dudes-- young and old, and I was loving the fucking surprise it was to see what lies beneath all those layers of clothing.
Books and their covers-- yeah, don't fall for that shit.
Well, actually, that wasn't the case at this wedding.
The groom's family was very welcoming and kind... just a little snooty.
While the family was doing their best to make my sister and me feel included and comfortable, I can't describe the sense of relief that overcame me once family members of the bride's began to notice us, and embrace us.
HUGE sigh of relief.
The most... comfortable people to hang out with were this funky family of five. The mom is my mom's second cousin, and apparently she really likes my mom, so she came at us like a mother hen. That was nice.
The dad was a complete silver fox.
They had three kids: two teenaged daughters and an older son.
The mom and the three kids were extremely thin... frail-looking. The dad was bulky.
Of course, these were first impressions, made on Christmas eve... a frigid... tiresome Christmas eve. Everyone was in hoodies, jackets, scarves... there were a few pairs of gloves out there... so, absolutely correct assessments could not be made.
Then came Christmas, the day of the Mayan Baths... the day when we all bared skin and swam around.
Surprises rocked the day.
There was the Young'un... whom I finally took notice of (the prior night he had been following me around... always on the lookout for anything I might have needed-- giving me three empanadas when he was told not to give me any because I didn't sing for the posadas. I remember wondering why in the world that cat in the smooth tench-coat kept appearing everywhere I walked in that hacienda) after he stood under the waterfall... that's an image I'll whip out on depressed days, 'cause that shit was GLORIOUS.
Then there was the funky family.
We were all changing in the designated co-ed dressing room.
First were the daughters and their mom-- totally skinny, as predicted. Since we were closer to them than anyone else, we decided to enter the baths with them.
As we waded in the cave, I noticed a ridiculously muscular man in the pool with us... completely tatted up.
The man? The dad! He had the best body of ANYONE present, young and old. It had all of us, guys and girls, in awe.
A little later, I saw the son emerge from the water-- BANGING body. Very thin, very, very thin... but all muscle-- that too was pretty ridiculous.
So, I'm pretty good at people-watching, right? I did that for god knows how many hours, as I sat in the very comfortable cave, straight chillin'.
What I caught most were the astonished glances the women would give each other when they're see the mom and dad of the funky family.
He was very attentive of his wife, and never swam anywhere away from her. The dude held her hand whenever they'd leave one of the pools.
Women were GAWKING... and I'm sure they were all thinking the same thing: how the fuck did Olive Oyl over here land such a beefcake?! And why the fuck is MY dude such a douche bag?
But I mean, HELLO! Popeye is bananas about Olive Oyl.
I was loving all of it. I was loving the husband envy, I was loving the tenderness of Burly Man for his sweet frail wife, I was loving the muscle envy from the dudes-- young and old, and I was loving the fucking surprise it was to see what lies beneath all those layers of clothing.
Books and their covers-- yeah, don't fall for that shit.
No comments:
Post a Comment