It was their very first vacation together. A short weekend trip to San Diego to stay with an old friend of his.It was a complete surprise when he had asked her to arrange everything, set up dates, and he'd take care of the rest of the details. She had never been anywhere of much importance so it meant a great deal to her, probably more than she led on to him. They had only been dating for a few short months so when he asked her out of town, she was more than ecstatic that he was capable of finding more time for her in his life.
Their bags were packed. Everything was completely ready for take-off. They boarded a small jet. Two rows with two seats in each row. They sat towards the front of the plane and immediately ordered drinks upon finding their seats. He a gin and tonic and a bloody mary for her, which later became the norm of any flight boarding process they were to later plan. They posed for photographs taken and wrapped themselves around each other the entire flight, her eyes closed tightly, taking mental pictures, never wanting the feeling to end. They were together and regardless of where they were heading, she was perfectly ok with that.
"Excuse me", she said as she approached the seats, both of them looking up for only a second. It was the flight attendent. She was perky, blonde, and tall with a nice smile. She seemed rather ditzy but very friendly nonetheless and she was more than interested in getting the scoop on them.
"I just have to say that you two are just the cutest thing I ever did see. You two married?"
He immediately replied, "Yes. Just got married. We're heading to our honeymoon."
A huge smile crept up on the flight attendents face, lights in her eyes. He mentioned they were headed to Grand Cayman and he grabbed Ashley by the hand and applied pressure ever so gently to reassure his confidence in the game. Ashley looked out the window, laughing hysterically to herself, not wanting to make a liar of him all the while flattered that marriage was on his mind, jokingly or not. She had always dreamed of being a wife. Being his wife was just more than a dream that she had imagined.
The flight attendent and him continued chatting about travels and of Omaha and hot spots. He gave her advice on where she could go to unwind once it returned there for the night. Ashley stared out the window, casually sipping her drink as she smiled knowing that it would be a great adventure.
It was uncommon, neither is it uncommon now, for them to be approached by strangers who are interested in the story. Their love story. It's like pulling an old romance novel off the shelves of a bookstore and blowing away the dust to reveal the utmost reason for our existence and everyone enjoys a good love story.
They arrived in San Diego, half drunk and completely high on love. They took their luggage to the streets with them on a whirlwind adventure from bar to bar until they were escorted to their place of stay where they settled in for the night.
She remembers walking to Cafe del Mar on the main street, losing her favorite scarf in the meantime, ordering what was posted on the menu as "The Usual" which made her feel like a local and she was completely at ease with that. She fit in here just fine. It was a plain bagel with cream cheese topped with fresh sliced tomato and avocado. She added a touch of salt and pepper to taste. She could have ordered several dozen. It was so simple but nothing in the state where she came from tasted this fresh. They inhaled the salty air being swept on shore from the ocean splashing nearby. They drank and they laughed and mostly, they loved.
Upon meeting two other friends of his, they hopped into an all black BMW and hit the Pacific Coast Highway. They stopped along the way to indulge in sushi; and by indulge I mean order just as much as could possibly be ordered and take a bite from every single prefectly plated portion upon the plates.
When they finally arrived at their destination, it was a Mediterranean joint full of live music, dancing, Ouzo, plates of fantastically massive dishes of food being brought by beautiful women baring their bellies and providing them with hookahs and a never ending supply of Ouzo. They couldn't possibly be expected to eat again after just being fed every known part of any existing sea creature, but it would have been rude not try.
The rest of the trip is fairly fuzzy. There was wrestling in sheets set upon an air mattress in a guest bedroom in the condo on the beach where they were shacked up for the short weekend. There were many many hours of love making and secrets being told and promises being promised. There were mornings of not wanting to leave the bedroom and nights of not wanting to sleep.
The flight home was sad. Neither of them wanted to leave so early, go back to their everyday lives of nothingness and sneaking to spend time together. It was a vicious cycle they battled everyday in the beginning. Torn between the lives they lived and the lives they wanted to live.
Several weeks had past since the trip and the new year had come and gone. He had to leave the country to attend a wedding in Greece where she figured she would settle back to his roots, be heavily influenced by friends and family, and never return to her arms again. They got into their first argument. It was over the phone on minutes being eaten up by calling cards. They were miles apart and hours apart and not being able to have each other there to hold and comfort caused conflict.
Several days later, in her cozy apartment situated in a quaint romantic part of the city, there was a large suitcase occupying the corner of her bedroom. He was home!
Their bags were packed. Everything was completely ready for take-off. They boarded a small jet. Two rows with two seats in each row. They sat towards the front of the plane and immediately ordered drinks upon finding their seats. He a gin and tonic and a bloody mary for her, which later became the norm of any flight boarding process they were to later plan. They posed for photographs taken and wrapped themselves around each other the entire flight, her eyes closed tightly, taking mental pictures, never wanting the feeling to end. They were together and regardless of where they were heading, she was perfectly ok with that.
"Excuse me", she said as she approached the seats, both of them looking up for only a second. It was the flight attendent. She was perky, blonde, and tall with a nice smile. She seemed rather ditzy but very friendly nonetheless and she was more than interested in getting the scoop on them.
"I just have to say that you two are just the cutest thing I ever did see. You two married?"
He immediately replied, "Yes. Just got married. We're heading to our honeymoon."
A huge smile crept up on the flight attendents face, lights in her eyes. He mentioned they were headed to Grand Cayman and he grabbed Ashley by the hand and applied pressure ever so gently to reassure his confidence in the game. Ashley looked out the window, laughing hysterically to herself, not wanting to make a liar of him all the while flattered that marriage was on his mind, jokingly or not. She had always dreamed of being a wife. Being his wife was just more than a dream that she had imagined.
The flight attendent and him continued chatting about travels and of Omaha and hot spots. He gave her advice on where she could go to unwind once it returned there for the night. Ashley stared out the window, casually sipping her drink as she smiled knowing that it would be a great adventure.
It was uncommon, neither is it uncommon now, for them to be approached by strangers who are interested in the story. Their love story. It's like pulling an old romance novel off the shelves of a bookstore and blowing away the dust to reveal the utmost reason for our existence and everyone enjoys a good love story.
They arrived in San Diego, half drunk and completely high on love. They took their luggage to the streets with them on a whirlwind adventure from bar to bar until they were escorted to their place of stay where they settled in for the night.
She remembers walking to Cafe del Mar on the main street, losing her favorite scarf in the meantime, ordering what was posted on the menu as "The Usual" which made her feel like a local and she was completely at ease with that. She fit in here just fine. It was a plain bagel with cream cheese topped with fresh sliced tomato and avocado. She added a touch of salt and pepper to taste. She could have ordered several dozen. It was so simple but nothing in the state where she came from tasted this fresh. They inhaled the salty air being swept on shore from the ocean splashing nearby. They drank and they laughed and mostly, they loved.
Upon meeting two other friends of his, they hopped into an all black BMW and hit the Pacific Coast Highway. They stopped along the way to indulge in sushi; and by indulge I mean order just as much as could possibly be ordered and take a bite from every single prefectly plated portion upon the plates.
When they finally arrived at their destination, it was a Mediterranean joint full of live music, dancing, Ouzo, plates of fantastically massive dishes of food being brought by beautiful women baring their bellies and providing them with hookahs and a never ending supply of Ouzo. They couldn't possibly be expected to eat again after just being fed every known part of any existing sea creature, but it would have been rude not try.
The rest of the trip is fairly fuzzy. There was wrestling in sheets set upon an air mattress in a guest bedroom in the condo on the beach where they were shacked up for the short weekend. There were many many hours of love making and secrets being told and promises being promised. There were mornings of not wanting to leave the bedroom and nights of not wanting to sleep.
The flight home was sad. Neither of them wanted to leave so early, go back to their everyday lives of nothingness and sneaking to spend time together. It was a vicious cycle they battled everyday in the beginning. Torn between the lives they lived and the lives they wanted to live.
Several weeks had past since the trip and the new year had come and gone. He had to leave the country to attend a wedding in Greece where she figured she would settle back to his roots, be heavily influenced by friends and family, and never return to her arms again. They got into their first argument. It was over the phone on minutes being eaten up by calling cards. They were miles apart and hours apart and not being able to have each other there to hold and comfort caused conflict.
Several days later, in her cozy apartment situated in a quaint romantic part of the city, there was a large suitcase occupying the corner of her bedroom. He was home!
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