“It would behoove you to hydrate after a long flight,” Keeks calls out.
“That’s what we plan on doing,” I say over my shoulder. “Hydrating with Mai Tais.”
In the distance, Keiko starts rattling off how alcohol actually dehydrates the human body, but we press forward with one thing on our minds—tropical inebriation.
“I like rum,” I say, licking the rim of my glass rather aggressively. “I’ve never been this attracted to rum, but I’m feeling . . .” I pause and roll my head to the side. “Dare I say, I might have a crush?”
“I’ve had a crush on liquor before,” Cora says while sucking on the end of a cherry stem. “It ended poorly. We broke up the next morning while my body revolted over giving the intoxicating beverage a chance.”
“What was it?”
“Fireball.”
I wince and give the rim of my glass one more lick before tipping back the rest of my Mai Tai. “Fireball is a devious bastard. Grabs your attention, makes you feel all warm inside, and then BAM!” I smack the table. “Trouble. That’s what it is . . . just trouble.”
“Fireball is like the bad boy you should stay away from.”
I nod. “If Fireball had a mode of transportation, it would be a motorcycle, and you know Fireball wouldn’t wear a helmet.”
“Or a condom,” Cora adds. “Fireball is too good for a condom. For any protection.”
“Fireball says FUCK condoms and then shoots its load on your back.” I gesture with my hand.
“And it’s a cinnamony load.”
“So much cinnamon.” I sigh and sit up. Turning to face Cora, I say, “I believe we’ve reached the threshold of loving Mai Tais or hating Mai Tais. If we drink one more, we’re going to regret our decisions, but if we stop here, we’ll remember how much Mai Tais make us feel valued and respected, unlike the shrewd Fireball.” I press my hand to hers and speak with my heart. “I want a long-term relationship with Mai Tais, a meaningful vacation fling that will mean something to me when I’m sixty and thinking about my younger years. I don’t want to be resentful and rigid when thinking about them . . . like how you feel about Fireball.”
She nods. “I hear you and I see you.” She drops her cherry stem to the counter and takes a deep breath. “I need a Pop-Tart.”
“Pop-Tarts by the ocean,” I say, the idea so grand in my head that I can’t imagine doing anything else. I can’t possibly fathom something bringing me more joy. I tap the bar top and say to the bartender, “Dear sir, we shall take two Pop-Tarts.”
The bartender, whose name we don’t know, turns to me and says, “Sorry, ladies, we don’t have Pop-Tarts here, but you could check the gift shop.”
“You’re a gem.” I smile at him. “We’d like to close our tab.”
He chuckles. “I have it on your room. Just need your signature.” He slips me a receipt attached to a board and I quickly sign across and up the paper, and then draw a palm tree after my name. I hand the receipt back to him and say, “The palm tree is a little treat for you.”
“That was very kind of you. Let us know if you need anything else . . . like a shot of Fireball,” he says with a smirk.
My eyes widen as Cora gasps next to me, hand to her chest. “How dare you bring up an ex-lover? You know we’re in a weakened state.”
“That’s why Fireball is the bad boy of liquor. It doesn’t care about your feelings; it just keeps you coming back for more.”
I stand from my chair as Cora reaches out her hand. “No,” I say into her ear. “You’re strong. You don’t need Fireball. It’s not good to you. It doesn’t care about your feelings.” I wrap my arm around her chest and slowly pull her away from the bar.
“It loves me.”
“It doesn’t,” I snap back and then calm my voice to a whisper. “It . . . doesn’t.”
Resigned, she nods, and I hold her hand, guiding her away from her toxic lover. Our flip-flops snap against the beige tile as we drunkenly navigate through the luxurious hotel. With a lack of walls, the entire lobby and dining area are open to the sea breeze and lit up by strategically placed tiki torches. Faint Hawaiian music plays in the background, and because the hotel isn’t crowded this weekend and is free of kids, it’s quiet. Serene. Just what I need.
Yes, I do believe I’ll have a love affair over the next two weeks. A love affair with Mai Tais, the sun, and the sand.