Hot Men, Burnt Feet and No Panties in Sint Maarten

After the mystery of the vanishing lunatic resolved itself ("I'm at the Hilton, LOL!") we still had an entire vacation ahead of us in Sint Maarten. We hoped it would be murder-free.

I had just completed my 100th dive in the Cenote Aktun Ha (Car Wash) in Tulum, even though my joy was diminished by Toiletgate. I will never emotionally recover from what happened. Those scars are for life.

Anyway, I asked the sorority survivors in the murder mansion if any of them wanted to celebrate life and try scuba diving. They all took a hard pass. Apparently, they're brave enough to let a stranger with a butcher knife and a stolen crab sleep under the same roof as them, but breathing through a regulator underwater? Too risky!

We compromised on a snorkeling boat day with Billy Bones. I did not leave a review because I only review experiences that are spiritually transformative or deeply traumatic. This one landed solidly in the "meh" part of that spectrum. Everyone else had a blast.

In defense of Billy Bones, I did see two (2) sea turtles, but it may have been one turtle that I just swam into twice. There was beer on the boat, okay?

Snorkeling is a Let Down After You've Scuba Dived

After a few beers I was impatient to get in the water and decided to back roll off the boat. I'm practically a professional scuba diver, I do it all the time! But it turns out that in the back roll scenario, the tank is critical.

I executed a full body backside belly flop from eight feet into open water. If I were to rate the experience I'd say it was better than back rolling off a cruise ship balcony but not as satisfying as landing directly on top of a hammerhead shark.

I almost drowned. I tried to do it in a cool way, though.

This Guy Acting Hot on Purpose

Britney and I did what we do best: got drunk and caused problems. The Double Stephanie was in full effect. Stephanie is the name of both of our drunk alter egos. That's how you know we're soulmates.

Nico, one of the tour operators, was disturbingly hot. And something about Stephanie is when you pour alcohol into her, she gets loud. Like real loud.

Britney started very audibly thirsting for Nico. At one point she actually growled at him. She thought she was being subtle but she was broadcasting her admiration across the sea to the boat. Where Nico was. Britney is objectifying this poor tour operator and literally no one was stopping her. Because it was hilarious!

This is not the first time that one of the Stephanies has loudly objectified a man. Normally, they respond to this by pretending not to hear us while actively escaping the situation entirely. Being Stephanie is the key to repelling men.

Nico was on a boat and there was no escape. He made the very controversial decision to lean in. At one of our stops, he started model posing on the back of the boat. He removed his shirt, did a slow motion hair sweep and began spraying his six-pack with sunscreen like it was cologne Eau de Caribbean.

Britney felt bad about this later but I was literally like fuck that guy, he was acting hot on purpose. He brought it on himself. If you strike a pose that's consenting to the objectification. If you're uncomfortable you hide your abs, not expose yourself under the sun like a god damn glistening god.

I've been to Grand Case!

I just remembered that we stopped at Grand Case for lunch!

They had confiscated our shoes before we got on the boat. They said we didn't need shoes, but what they meant was you don't need shoes if you want your feet burned like a well done steak.

Britney and I wandered off in Grand Case, got lost and burned our feet to hell. We were discovered in a souvenir shop seeking refuge on the cool tile flooring for our burnt feet.

People in Latin America seem to have a very different relationship with shoes. Shoes are more of a social construct that they consider a suggestion. I've noticed barefoot people in a number of countries and situations where I felt shoes were crucial. What an inspiring culture.

The Shocking Truth About Panties

By this time the group has fully accepted that Britney and I are the wild ones. We are true agents of chaos.

So you can imagine our shock when we discovered that out of eight women, only the two of us wear panties. Everyone else, never wore panties the entire time. We learned this during one of those bachelorette-style confession games. Everyone else, panty-free all the time. For their entire lives.

Look, Britney and I spend a lot of time drunk and if you pass out upside down (it happens) then panties are needed for modesty purposes. Also, if your name is in them (theoretically) it helps your one-night stand remember your name.

Like a business card for whores.

And yet, their argument made the opposite case. Maybe we're the idiots dragging around unnecessary fabric like people with boundaries. Anyway once the secret was out, I started conducting daily panty checks.

I guess panties are more of a personal brand choice than a universal standard. Like shoes.