Due to its graphic content and foul language, this post has been rated “R”
Last week, you got the intro to our misadventure. We’re glad you’re back for more!
Part 2 of a 6 part series. (see bottom)
Part 2- Don’t Move!
This is a joke, right?
My first thought is “Eric, for real… you can have the dumbest jokes, man” Eric’s one of our best friends, and a joker, but sometimes his jokes can be tactless, and sneaking up behind us to tell us not to move in a strange voice is right up his alley. I turn my head with a smile on my face about to bitch-slap his stupid self before I ask him how he found us, but the hand that just slammed itself on my head and wrenched it back to face the multicoloured towel is definitely not Eric’s style, It’s too quick. And now that it’s been repeated I realize it was “No te mueves” not “don’t more” wtf…
I move just my eyes to Gaby for guidance, still trying to figure out what kind of prank this is. We’re both crouching.. we were just taking pictures with the camera on a little tiny tripod. The voice says, in spanish, “get up slowly” I see Gabe slyly pull his SD card out of the camera and slides it in his pocket with the hand that isn’t holding mine. So that’s when it hits…
This aint no joke.
FUCK! fuuuuuuck…. I have like 14,000 pesos with me ($350US) that I just picked up from getting paid that I’d been waiting a week for, and Gaby’s got his camera equipment, and he’s got a photoshoot tomorrow!! This bloooooooooooooooows… but whatever, it’s stuff, so we’ll get it back, one way or another. Let’s focus on the task at hand, walking, in almost complete darkness (thank you, moon, for lighting the way a bit) where a man with a gun is directing us.
Why is he making us walk so far away from the towel anyway? Oh I guess cause the moto’s right there he doesn’t want us to be able to follow him so quickly once he takes our shit… HAHAHAH, ah man, maybe if he knew it takes a bunch of kicks to get the bike started he wouldn’t have bothered…. what’s that Gaby’s telling him? Oh to leave his Cedula (ID) ’cause it’s a hassle to get it back.
Good one baby, making conversation and making intelligent demands… reminding this dude we’re human just like him and making him relate to the difficulties of life.. you’re good. Ok, this is far enough already, where are we walking?
We stop on a patch of sand between two crawling-plant covered dunes, where we can see the beach even better than before, but not the road at all. The moonlight is reflecting in the gentle waves. It’s really gorgeous here.
He tells us to turn around, he’s got a green and white stripped polo shirt wrapped around his head, apparently the one he was wearing before because he’s topless, revealing his short and chubby stature and solid beer gut. He’s short but he’s not small.. He definitely used to work out, but it’s been a while. Get on with it buddy… your gun’s making me nervous, this is far enough, go grab our shit and leave us alone already.
“Take your clothes off” he says… I look at Gabriel, I’m confused, I’m not sure if I heard him correctly, his already incomprehensible Dominican spanish muffled by his polo shirt. I give Gabe a confused wrinkle of the eyebrows like, “did I hear that right? and if I did, the fuck am I talking my clothes off for?” and I see him calmly take his shirt off so I follow suit. I’m not wearing a bra, so I’m immediately topless, and I’m wearing a thong, so If he’s making sure we’ve got nothing left to steal, this is good enough.
“All of it,” he protests.
I get my panties back, right?
“Um… you’re gonna give me my panties back when you’re done checking right? ’cause I really don’t feel like having to get back to town na…..”
“No soy ladrón” He interrupts… you’re not a thief, I translate in my head, confused, as I take my panties off…
I’m not arguing with a dude with a gun.
He then calmly explains, while waiving his gun at us, Gabriel and I confusingly staring at our naked selves (god damn he’s hot in the moonlight, focus Jade, not the time) that he’s not here to steal our shit.. we don’t have to worry about Gabe’s ID or my panties because he’s not a thief, he would just like to see us have sex.
It takes all of the self restraint that I have for me not to laugh when I finally am sure I understand what he just said. He’s not going to take any of the stuff I was worried about losing a half a minute before, he just wants me to have sex with my super awesome, deliciously sexy boyfriend while he watches…… what a friggin relief.
No really, I’m serious. Yeah I’d never CHOOSE this. If you said to me will you have sex while someone watches I’d tell you, no, of course not, weirdo, wtf, that’s just awkward. But ask me with a gun in your hand and I won’t think twice. I love the dude. It’s not a chore really. Ok, so you’re a weirdo with fucked up sexual fantasies and this is how you get off, you’re messed in the head and you need help, but at least I get to keep my shit, and in the meantime maybe you’ll learn something about what love looks like.
Oh, just sex, what a relief!
Well that’s what was going on in my little lady brain but, apparently–I’d know this if I were a guy– it’s kind of tough to get it up with a gun pointed at you… no pressure tho brah.
Gabriel is making small talk, asking if the gun is really necessary, and the guy is casually responding that he knows all too well we wouldn’t agree to do anything if he didn’t have one. It occurs to me that maybe we caused all of this by having fooled around on the beach a half hour ago, (guilt, guilt, guilt) and since we’re all being so friendly and all, I ask him if he saw us. He answers that no he hadn’t and Gabriel responds jokingly that he was a half hour late for his free show….at least I don’t feel quite as guilty anymore.
In the meantime, we’re still having some.. ahem… technical difficulties.
skip on over to Part 3- Let Me Try! for the next part of the story.