I’m writing this as I sulk on the subway home from work, after a 4 day weekend. To say today was challenging would be an understatement.
Although this weekend was a long, holiday weekend, Sunday just so happened to be my birthday {and Queen Bey(oncè)’s} as well. A few days ago I turned 25, which don’t ask why, but since I was little this age & birthday always felt like it should hold some significance to me. Growing up, 25 was ‘my number’ and looking back it always seemed like the age that one would have their life, so to speak, together. You know, maybe engaged, married, pregnant, making 6 figures, pretty much all generally unrealistic expectations. Anyways, I’m not any of those things but fortunately I was able to celebrate this past weekend in Bermuda with my boyfriend, Jordan. Now this trip was a total and unexpected surprise for me, so to say I was excited would be a huuuuuge understatement. We headed out Friday morning and by the time we arrived back at JFK on Sunday afternoon I felt that time had gone utterly too fast.
For the few days we were able to escape the city {Bermuda is actually only a 1.5 hour flight from NYC} we had the pleasure of fitting in 72 hours of much needed R & R. The island itself is so gorgeous, in that the beaches are covered in pink sand, the ocean is equal parts crystal & turquoise and as you drive around its not hard to notice that all the buildings/shops/restaurants/& resorts are all synced up on the same bright and vibrant color wheel. The particular resort we stayed at is one of the most charming places I have ever been. The decor is perfectly warm, bright and pastel all at once; and upon arrival a parrot with a rather strong personality belts out a loud but horse ‘HALLO’. *His name is Alonso and just celebrated his 23rd birthday at the resort in May* Our days consisted of pretty much the same routine – waking up, walking a few steps to breakfast/lunch/dinner, walking a few more steps to the beach, repeat. Everything was smooth sailing until the first night, when we accidentally crashed a bride’s rehearsal dinner.
See, as I begin explaining this I can see little hints that we should of probly known better, but in the moment they weren’t quite as clear. So, typically every Friday night at the resort there is a barbecue at the beach. We had been to Bermuda a few times before and stayed at this resort each time, so we felt fairly confident that on this particular Friday night we were hitting up the weekly beach BBQ. However when we made our way down to the deck something seemed a bit off. The space and set up looked the same, there was hotel staff setting up the food, prepping the grills, etc. There were tables set up on the beach – normal. The white table clothes, candles, center pieces – not normal. There was a man playing steel drums, to me this is abnormal, to Jordan this is normal… *🤔*. There were people on the beach deck – normal. Some of those people had dresses, skirts, formal wear on, but some also had regular degular (yes, degular) outfits as well, so we’re still apprehensive. We make our way down the steps and are greeted by a server passing a tray of Dark & Stormy’s. When we’re offered one we gladly accept and from there the red flags begin going up. *free drinks? *🤔* We make our way through the party and take a seat. A few moments later another waiter approaches us with passed hors d’oeuvres, egg rolls to be exact. I accept, of course, but at this point I’m 99.9% sure we’re not supposed to be there. The nail in the coffin was actually when an older woman approached our table with a small digital camera and quickly spat, “Smile!” before snapping our photo, that we were 110% positive that we were not supposed to be there. At that point we took one last sip of our drinks {to be honest I’d been practically chugging my cocktail in the 7 minutes we were there out of stress and uncertainty} and made a beeline towards the closest exit out of there. Looking back on it gives me first and second hand embarrassment but I also can’t help but think of how that woman will react when she’s looking at her pictures from the night and see’s our mugs, definitely deer in head lights, definitely not supposed to be there.
After that small fiasco, thankfully our trip got back our track. Every morning we made our way to the Long Tail Terrace for the ‘Eggs Benedict of the Day’ or in Sunday’s case Bday Pancakes. *I’m a sucker for a good Eggs Benny* Every afternoon meant the Short Tail Terrace for lunch, which was always their freshly caught ‘Fish of the Day’ Sandwich with a DS *Dark & Stormy*. And, then there’s dinner. We had a little early bday celebration on Saturday evening which consisted of cocktails *dirty vodka martinis & DS’* and the main event, Beef Short Ribs, Bacon Wrapped Scallops, Chocolate Cake and wine, wine, and more wine. By the time we headed to the airport Sunday I practically had to be rolled home, but #noregrets. As my mom says to my sister with a bland diet, “Let your tastebuds speak to you” and this weekend I definitely let them do all the talking.
**All things aside, their rehearsal dinner looked pretty on point**
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