But He's Really Cute

When you're single and not dating and you go on a vacation in the Caribbean, especially in Jamaica, sometimes things happen.  Sometimes things get ahead of you.  Like for instance, you have a moment (that lasts the whole six days of the vaca), where you literally lose your mind.  You are intoxicated.  Yes, because you are away from work, home, and the general idea of being on holiday.  Yes, by the rum punch, pina coladas, and hummingbirds. Yes, by the sound of waves, the sand, the sun, the resort experience.  But that's not it.  What really causes this under the influence behavior are the men.  They are everywhere.  They are full of compliments, long stares, and encouraging.  They suggest you "FULLJOY" your stay on the island, yeah mon!  Another thing about being on vacation is that every moment is at once sped up and slowed down.  For instance, the pace is slower, you have no particular place to go, you're chillin'.  Alternately, should you meet a man there, time speeds up because well, you ONLY have six days.  So what, you ask, does this have to do with dating and Daceia?  Read on.

In July this year I went to Jamaica.  I'd been before so I sort of knew what to expect, nevertheless, the intoxication hit me.  After having been there for a couple of days, I met a really cute, extremely handsome man from the Dominican Republic. Yummy.  He introduced himself and we'll call him, um, Wyatt.  I know, not a very Spanish name.  Well, neither was his.  He had Latin swag, worked as a contractor, on assignment in Jamaica for six months.  Wyatt loved to sing and dance and did so often as we walked and talked.  Wyatt was HOT.  Now it's true, he spoke little English.  No problem, mon, this is Jamaica.  Besides, I speak a fair to good amount of Spanish.  So we managed-he had a daughter back home, traveled a lot for work, and really, did not like Jamaica-"all they play is Reggae.  No Salsa.  No Merengue.  Me no likey Jamaaaica".  So we hung out.  Thank you Jamaica!

Let's fast forward to a moment in dating that really can set the tone, good or bad, brief or long, about the relationship.  The first kiss.

After hanging out one day, Wyatt goes for the first kiss. It starts off well-slow and tender.  Then, in an instant, in a millisecond, it's OVER.  No, not over as in finished, over as in the good part is over.  He starts licking my face. ALL over my face.  Stop laughing.  I'm serious.  Like a dog would lick your face.  I'm stunned and confused and my mind can't comprehend what's occurring.  I'm thinking, did he just lick my face?! No, nuh uh.  But yes, it did occur.  Who does that?   Oh, Wyatt Wyatt Wyatt! "No me gusta! NO me gusta!!"  Understanding crossed his face but not belief as he continued.  Then licked my nostrils.  Then my shoulder.  Ummm, I gotta go.  "You leaving? Why you leaving?".  He stops licking me. Then resorts to what I can only call Operation Keep Her Here, Section B, of the Men's Manual.  He takes off my sandals and begins a foot massage.  Well, I still want to go...  but hey, it's a foot massage, Section B is working.  For now.  Unfortunately, if you have ever ever been in this situation, you know that this diversionary tactic will not limit itself to the task at hand.  There is an agenda.  The foot massage swiftly becomes an opportunity, an "invitation" if you will, to Suck. My. Toes!!  My mind is yelling at me now, saying things like "Hey, I've been in flip flops ALL day!  HEY!, good grief buddy!" 

Summary:  That's it.  The gig is up for Wyatt.  I leave and go to my room, dumbfounded and in disbelief.  I immediately wash my face. Immediately.  No me gusta.  No me gusta.

Verdict:  No match.  Not even for a summer fling.  Charge?  Indiscriminate and unsolicited licking.  Very disappointing.  I actually really liked him.  Perhaps with a little coaching, this licking habit could be redirected....   But that's a tale for another type of blog :)