"He’s going to murder me and throw me in the ocean!"
That’s what my ex-girlfriend Jessie was yelling when the cops came and got me, on our last last day in Puerto Rico last week.
WTF? How did that happen?
I had known Jess, the girl I took with me on that my one-week, tropical dream vacation for more than a decade. She’s worked at Stanford’s in Westport in the early 2000’s as a cocktail girl. She was maybe 18 then. We dated – or rather saw each other – often those first couple years. She was a very pretty girl with a great body.
Everyone wanted to "date" her, but I was her main guy.
However, she was a little out there even then. Very wild and very high strung. Years later she vanished. We never spent more than a night or two together after that. Then she showed back up around two years ago, this time out as a body building type with an even better body. She was pushing 30 but was still a smoking hot beauty.
Who wouldn’t want her? Well in time, lots of people.
She seems to have some emotional issues that explode at odd times. That said, I figured, hey I can deal with her, I have before. Wrong! On the trip we were going to be around each other for seven days and nights straight. And on two long flights to and from an Island some 3,500 miles away.
"I’m only going to eat salads and drink ice tea and water, almost nothing more, no weed, no booze," she told me before we left. "I’m going to stay in great shape, work out at 7 AM, beach at 9, and go to bed at a decent hour."
We got a camera to make some fun videos, bought some extra sex toys, the usual beach gear and I bought her a brazilian swim suit – meaning almost a no suit. She’s a rock star looking girl.
Then the trouble started…
A pilot on one of our outbound flights came over to talk to us, a nice guy, who clearly thought she was very hot. I showed him a photo of Jess with longer hair, and then it began.
"Don’t show strangers my picture," she screamed. The guy was shocked and left. "It was only a nice photo of you by my car," I said. "What’s the big deal?
But she went on about it all the way to the hotel, the Waldorf. So I couldn’t enjoy the hotel or the atmosphere for her nonstop bitching.
"You are an egomaniac," she said and went on and on. I couldn’t shut her up. She even called my brother and my Puerto Rico pal to tell him about the eff-ing photo. They didn’t get it, but at least they calmed her down.
As for Jess’s diet, well on Night One she ordered a salad alright…plus a medium rare filet, some lobster, a couple sides, a bottle of wine and, oh yeah, special breads.
WTF happened to the diet?
She sent the steak back twice and dressed down the waiter for it being too well done. Jess thought this Island was like Vegas, I guess, the only place she’d ever really been.
"Where are the strip bars, the casinos, the rows of bars and nightclubs?" she asked. "Oh, we’re just gonna get tan, swim, snorkel, scubba, jet ski, do drinks by the pool and listen to Island music?"
She pissed off almost everyone she met. Oh, they all looked at her, but what a little brat.
It all came to a head that last Saturday. Jess wanted to go to San Juan, a more upbeat, electric city. Our hotel was five star but it was a couples retreat which is fantastic if you want to relax. Sure, it had a dance club and casino, but the people were all kinda New York hip types and laid back. Not the least bit Vegas, Thank God.
The San Juan cab ride would cost around $200 round trip, the strippers she wanted to hire to party with us – if we nabbed one – would probably be another $200. Plus the room, gambling, booze – in the end a grand or so.
Brother, but OK.
So there we were at the pool that Saturday and I’m throwing the football with some kids in the water. And she’s sun burned (she’d said she could take the sun but wouldn’t go in the after four hours the first day – she was burnt and bitching) and hanging out under a cabana. I’m dark-skinned so I was fine.
Our sex nights had been good, but other than her being a good athlete she was driving me nuts.
Then when I came back to the pool she was going through my cell phone.
"OMG you have been screwing all these girls!" she screamed. "I’m gonna catch something (yeah right). You probably send these naked photos to other people, to strangers, to porn sites, to Penthouse – to God knows who."
I said, that’s my phone, some of those photos are old and I don’t send them to anyone. You’re a CRAZY NUT.
But she went on and on with the entire pool crowd watching.
So I sat down by her, quietly snarling, and said, "Look you little crazy brat, you’re ruining this trip. I paid for it, not you. You’ve pissed off all my friends. Now just shut up before someone throws your ass in the ocean."
That did it…
She jumped up yelled, "He’s going to murder me and throw me in the ocean…murder me and throw me in the ocean." Now she’s running up the stairs to where the cops are, screaming this. My heart sank and I thought, "This bitch is going to get me arrested for nothing in a foreign land…great!"
Next the head security cop came to me. "Mister Glazer, she’s saying you want to murder her and throw her into the ocean. What are we to make of this?"
I thought for a minute, looked out at the ocean and said, "That’d be a hell of a throw."
He laughed and she looked up from her little chair surrounded by cops with a blank stare.
Then he said, "Yeah my guys checked you out and the hotel says you have been a good guy, nice to everyone. And people at the pool said she was, well, a little witch and so did the hotel staff. So we’re gonna give her – or you in a sense – three choices. We can put her off of the property. She can calm down and go back to your room. Or we can have you pay for another room and move her into that one, change her flights and you won’t see her again. Your call."
I thought, lets see. That trip tonight to San Juan is about a grand. She’s a little witch. That hotel room sounds pretty good – at least it’s away from me. Then he said, "Done. This isn’t the US and we don’t buy into that, ‘if the woman says you did it’ crap. Here it has to be for real and in this case it’s not. Enjoy your last couple days Mister Glazer."
And I said, "Oh I will. I will."
Those last two days were the best. I loved that hotel and that Island and I’ll go back some day…just not with Jess.
The sad thing is she was a great parttime lover and by my moving her up into the main girlfriend slot I ruined a good thing. Lesson learned.
Of course, then again, maybe it’s me. Nah.