Where I’m staying – The Atlantis Resort

Edit:  I’ve been writing this blog post in bits and pieces over the last few days, so if it reads a little disjointed that’s why.

A few days ago I was in Miami, now I’m in the Bahamas. Specifically the town of Nassau on New Providence island, where James Bond stayed in Casino Royale. I’m staying at the Atlantis resort, which is sort of like a massive five-star water-activities version of Disneyland.

As I mentioned in the last post, this is mostly a present for my son who just turned 21, but it’s also an excuse for me to get away and relax (somewhat) after a very busy year. My deal with my son was he could pick a one-week trip to anywhere he wanted (within his Christmas break schedule from college; yes, sadly he goes to college). I would cover hotel and his airfare, but food and all other incidentals would be his responsibility.

The Atlantis resort was his choice after I presented him with some options, then he recruited three of his college buddies to join him.

It’s nice that my son brought his buds. That way while he hangs out with them I can go off and do things on my own, which is the way I usually like it on big trips like this. We do all hang out sometimes. I’ll get to that in a minute. We’re all staying at the Royal Tower, which is the largest of the six (I think) Atlantis hotels (this place is huge). It’s the one pictured above. My son and I share a room and his three buddies are in another one on a separate floor.

Here are some of the experiences I’ve had as well as some random observations.

1. Let’s get this out of the way first and talk about how I got laid here. I expected the resort here to be chock-full of hot, available chicks. Since I’m staying a week here, that would be more than enough time to run some “vacation-game” and have some fun. Well, I was dead wrong. This resort is full of families and couples. That’s pretty much it. It’s not like Vegas or resorts in Mexico where you’ve got tons of young single chicks or mid-age women far away from their husbands or boyfriends. Oh no.

There are plenty of hot chicks here but they all have a boyfriend or husband closely attached to them. Most of the younger couples here are newlyweds. You can tell by the women’s just-married NRE twinkle in their eyes. Frankly, the husbands have that just-married twinkle too. Hey, I was married once, and I do admit that getting married does make you very, very happy…for about two years.

So try as I might the first few days, I couldn’t find any easily available chicks like I have in other locales. Unless you want to work very hard at getting laid and get very creative, your only options for getting laid here is to venture out into the city and work the Bahamian local gals, which is exactly what I ended up doing.

At one point I was playing blackjack in the casino with a cute 19 year-old from Houston. As I started working my magical powers her father sat down next to us. Shit. He turned out to be a nice guy, but I don’t think he’d like me playing hide the cucumber with his daughter.

So eventually I just forgot about it and relaxed, which, as I sometimes have to remind myself, is the purpose of a vacation. I just finished some very successful online dating blitzes so my sexual calendar will be quite full when I get back home.

However at one point the guys all wanted me to join them at some of the local joints in town. I agreed, and that’s where I met the cute 22 year-old Bahamian girl who I later enjoyed.

2. Before I get into that, let’s talk about Bahamian women. I’m always fascinated by the subtle differences in racial appearance. For example, though the average American doesn’t know it, Koreans, Japanese, and Chinese all look very different. The same goes for black women from the Bahamas versus black women from the U.S. Bahamian women have some more African features like much darker skin, bigger mouths and lips, and higher foreheads.

However! They also have more “white” features, in that their eyes and noses have very petite “white” or Asian shapes, far more so than black chicks in the U.S. This all makes for some very exotic, and sometimes very attractive combinations. The chick I fucked wasn’t a stunner, but she had those exotic sharp features. She was probably a 4 or 5 if you hate black women, a 7 if you aren’t “into” black women, and an 8.5 if you are.

3. Ass. If you’ve been to the Bahamas and seen the women down here, you already know what I’m about to say. Bahamian chicks have the biggest bubble butts on the planet Earth. I mean these things just pop out like you’ve never seen on any black chick in America. It’s god damn beautiful, and I’m having a great time seeing all these monster asses everywhere, especially on the skinny chicks. Oh baby. I love big asses, and these asses just shoot out and punch you in the face. As my black brothas say, God DAYYYYUUUMMM. (When it comes to liking big asses, I’m a black man.)

4. So long story short, as the guys were eating their chicken and conch fritters, I started talking to two younger Bahamian chicks. In moments I’m doing my usual and I’m kinoing the cuter of the two (though not too much, since I don’t know what the customs regarding physical touch are down here). Soon I’m getting positive body language from her and she’s asking me all kinds of questions. I respond by telling her she needs to come back to the resort with me. She says she can’t since she’s going out with friends. I tell her to meet me back here at 8pm tomorrow, and she agrees.

When she leaves my son is very quiet with a wry smile on his face. His three buddies look at me with curiosity.

“I thought you had like, some 20 year old girlfriend or something,” one of them said.

“Actually I have three of those in their twenties, but it’s an open relationship so I can do whatever I want,” I said.

“And you’re, like, 38, right?”

“40.”

He turns to my son and says, “Your dad is my new hero.”

In the end she did indeed show up at 8pm the following night, although with her ugly friend again. After some wrangling to get her to dump her, finally she did so, and cutie pie and I went back to the resort and it was game on.

I spent the rest of the evening in younger-woman, big-ass heaven. Good thing I always bring some good, thick condoms when I travel whether I think I’ll need them or not. (Something every man should do, by the way.) HIV is a little more prevalent down here than in the U.S., though that’s not saying much. It’s still nothing like Africa. (If I ever visit Africa I’m going to keep my cock in my pants no matter how horny I get, thank you very much.) My son was going to be out until 3am or so as usual, so I had the room to myself.

This was a momentous event because this marks the first time I’ve had sex with a full black woman. I’ve been with half-white-half-black and half-Asian-half-black, but never full black. As a matter of fact, when I told her that the first night I met her, her beautiful eyes went wide. I think she wanted to be my “first”. So cute.

5. As is usually the case, the plurality of people here are not Americans. I would say Americans make up about 40% of the guests here. The rest are Europeans, particularly Eastern Europeans (again, like with Miami, I’m surprised at how many I’m running into lately as I travel), Indians, and lots of South Americans (hot chicks!). A few Asians but not many, which I suppose makes sense; we are very, very far from Asia.

What’s funny is most of the Americans here are from Texas or Georgia, so we’ve got some serious southern accents down here. It’s because the Bahamas is so close to Texas, whereas on the west coast where I live, people usually go to places like Hawaii, Cabo, and Baja. Mixed with the Bahamian accents it’s funny. You’ll have some mom ask in a thick Texas drawl, “Y’all got pooh-uls here?” and the black Bahamian porter will answer, “Ya mon. We got every TING!”

6. The Atlantis resort is very cool and I like it here, but it’s ripoff central. Like Ocean Drive in Miami, everything here is designed to rip your ass off. The cheapest salad you can find here is about $13. An ice cream bar down by the pools will run you about $6.50, and that’s before they automatically add in an 18% gratuity. Before you ask, no, Atlantis is not an all-inclusive resort. (Now those are awesome).

Since I hate to spend money, I did what I always do on long trips like this. The first day I went into town and found a local grocery store, looking for a gallon of drinking water plus some cottage cheese and yogurt. They had drinking water but not the other two items. No prob. I just bought six or seven cans of chili (at $4.50 a can, again a fucking ripoff from hell but still cheaper than the food at the resort), a big hunk of cheddar cheese, a good knife and a corkscrew opener (which will be used to open the cans). Total cost: $45. But now I’m covered for the entire week, and $45 is the cost of less than three meals at the resort.

I borrowed a spoon from one of the Atlantis restaurants, so once a day I just hammer open one of my cans of chili and eat my lunch. The cheese I keep in the wet bar for a treat at night. Nice and cheap, and I don’t violate my diet unless I go get a hot fudge sundae which I’ve only done twice so far. (Hey, it is a vacation after all. I am going to eat some good food.)

It’s actually pretty funny to be staying at one of the most notoriously expensive resorts in the world while I’m looking out over the ocean and hammering a knife into a can of cold beans to eat lunch.

The first time, my son was watching me and said, “Uh…dad? What the hell are you doing?”

“Saving money. I’d rather have it in the bank than in my mouth.”

Though I looked odd, my son and his buddies followed suit once they saw what I had done. They found a sundries kiosk and all pitched in and purchased a pile of instant cup-a-noodles (at $1.70 a cup, still a rip off, but again…) and have been living off that all week, minus the occasional treat. They looked funny once they cooked the noodles and realized they had no utensils. Four college guys eating noodles with their hands…ah, to be young.

7. I’m getting a shitload of exercise here. It’s fantastic. I play blackjack in the evenings (or watch movies in their free movie theater), but during the day, all day long, I’m swimming in the ocean, or the pools, or going down the bazillion different water slides and hydrotubes here. One day I teamed up with a group of little Mexican kids and we went down the same high-speed intertube slide over and over again. When one of the kids got tired I encouraged him to join us one more time. I was all, “Uno mas, vato! Uno mas! C’mon!!!” He smiled and we went again.

See, I’m really about 8 years old. At least sometimes. A psychologist might say it must be something about growing up poor and not being able to do this stuff when I was a kid. Whatever, water slides kick ass, and I never get tired of doing them. Most adults go down once or twice with their kids, and then sit on their asses all day by the pool, but not me. Me and the Mexican kids got all pissed when they closed them down at 5pm. When they started complaining I told them, “Si little vatos, what a bunch of toro merde.”

8. Lots of very nice yachts here. My desire for a boat is still firing strong, and I’ve gotten a lot of good ideas from the boat owners down here. Unless something unusual happens in my life next year, I think I’m buying a 40 footer some time in 2013, perhaps live in it for six months and see how I like it. Still figuring out the particulars. More on this later.

9. Everywhere here they have pools full of sharks and manta rays. Very cool. (I wonder what would happen if one of the little kids here fell into one of these pools? That’d be a fuckin’ lawsuit.)

10. A word about traveling with children. If you travel with your children, that’s great. But if you’re traveling with your babies, YOU ARE A GOD DAMN MORON. This entire trip, from the hotels, to the planes, to the beaches, to the resorts, I see all these families with screaming babies. Not kids. Babies.

What the fuck people? Why would you completely ruin your expensive trip by bringing your damn baby? Seriously, I see these parents with babies on these kinds of trips and they don’t look happy. They look tired. Well, no shit Sherlock.

Look, I speak from congruence here. When my daughter was a baby, we did not step foot on an airplane with her until she was well into three years old. We either went on airplane trips without her or we went on vacation with her in a car. Gee. There’s a thought. I must be a genius.

Why did we do this? Because I like to be happy, and being on vacation with a god damn baby makes you miserable. Moreover it’s double stupid because your baby won’t even remember the trip. So WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT? I mean, I sit on the airplane relaxed, then some damn baby starts SCREAMING. FOREVER. Ugh. And thanks to liberals and political correctness, it’s fucking illegal for the airlines to have adult-only flights. (Oh no. Can’t have that. We’d be “discriminating” against “parents”. Fuck me.)

So look, if you have any kids under the age of three, don’t take them anywhere on a plane. Please do us all a favor, and yourself a favor, and keep them home or go on a road trip instead. Just wait until they’re about three. Is that too much to ask? Jesus.

11. I like fake tits. Did I say I like fake tits? I do. Nothing brings a smile to my face like some hot chick (unfortunately a newlywed) laying out, getting a tan, flat on her back, arms up, and her boobs are just poppin’ straight up like two perky cupcakes. To all you guys who hate fake tits, I don’t get you. Bring on the silicone.

12. Speaking of how chicks look in swimsuits, I have to say something about tattoos. I don’t like or dislike tattoos on chicks. However, when I see these hordes of under-30 women with tattoos, and not little tattoos but huge tats that cover their entire backs, or stomachs, or legs, here’s what I’m thinking. Tats are currently a fad. As a fad, that means that at some point the fad will go away, and tats won’t be cool any more.

So that means that in 20-30 years, you’re going to have an entire generation of middle-age women who are going to have huge tattoos that will not only look terrible (because of what age does to tattoos) but will also be completely out of date, which will make them look even worse than terrible.

I’ll prove what I’m saying with a real-life example. Ever had sex with a woman with a “tramp stamp”? You know, that huge horizontal tat those goes right above their ass? That was really in style…about 10 years ago. Now, it’s completely out of style and it looks like trash, and women who have them are really, really embarrassed.

I’ve fucked two of these tramp-stampers so far, and you should have heard the rapid-fire embarrassed excuses I heard from both of them the first time they took their shirts off explaining that “stupid tramp stamp I got when I was 20”. Over the next two decades or so, multiply this by about a million. It’s going to be brutal. Women are really in for it with these huge tats they’re getting. Not that they care. (Women are very present-focused creatures. Damn the future.)

I guess that means it’s time to look at long-term investments into laser-removal clinics…

13. I swam with sharks today. For real. They suit you up in a quasi-scuba setup like this:

Then you just walk around with the sharks. It was fun. I figured that the “sharks” would be those little pussy sharks you see at the zoo. Oh no. You’re in the water with ginormous Caribbean reef sharks, longer than I am tall, and a type of shark known to attack humans. Cool. Why didn’t they eat us? Sharks only eat when hungry (unlike animals like dogs, which eat constantly as long as there is food available), so the resort just over-feeds these sharks so they never get hungry.

It was awesome. The lead shark tried to take me on, so I put him in a headlock and elbowed him in the face. Then I swung him around and used him as a baseball bat to beat the shit out of some of his shark buddies just to show them who’s boss. Like beating up a dude the first day you’re in prison.

Just kidding.

Actually it’s pretty freaky when a shark as big as you swims right up behind you and passes right in front of your face. Twice I tried to touch the sharks but the diver guides got pissed and gave me the no-no sign. When I got out they told me, “Hey mon, you touch dem, dey touch you back, boss. You don’t want dem touchin’ you back mon.”

By the way, when you get a good look at a shark up close, they just look evil as hell. Most people think snakes or bats look evil. Nope, they have nothing on sharks. Those evil yellow Sauron eyes, damn. Talk about an outcome independent animal. Sharks don’t give a fuck. You can just see them thinking, “Look at these dumbasses taking pictures of us. We could tear these pansies to pieces if we wanted to. But eh, I’m tired. I just ate.”

14. Lots of married guys here means lots of beta males. The other day as I was playing at the blackjack tables I was talking to a young guy next to me, about 25 years old. Nice guy, having a great time. Suddenly he looks up in horror. I follow his gaze to see his very hot but very angry wife pushing a baby stroller (another one of these stupid families traveling with a baby!). She had this monstrous glare on her face. She screams, and I mean screams at him, across the entire casino, “What the hell are you doing???”

“What?” he screams back, too startled to be embarrassed (yet).

“You need to go get dressed!” she screams, getting more angry, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I am dressed!” he says, pointing at his own shirt.

“You can’t go do dinner like that!” she yells, “I can’t believe this! Stop playing right now and go get dressed! I’m pushing her around and…” Blah, blah, blah, again, she’s screaming this at the top of her lungs across the casino in front of everyone.

His face darkens, he cowers, colors out his chips, and leaves, apologizing to the rest of the table. As he walks away his shoulders were slumped, his face down, the look of defeat and embarrassment clear. Everyone at all the blackjack tables witnessed the altercation.

We have a lot of beta males out there to save. I’m enjoying my trip, but I really can’t wait to get back home and get back to work.

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