I just got back from THE BEST vacation I’ve ever had in Cancun on an all-expenses paid vacation The Hubster won from his job. Being an employee of a company who owns Pleasant Holidays definitely has it’s benefits. We spent an incredible five days on a beach resort where the sky and water was so blue it almost looked photoshopped.

We stayed at a Spanish-owned resort called Barcelo, and mere words can’t describe the beauty we were surrounded around. The food was incredible, and you haven’t truly lived until you can have plantains, sausage, bacon and Mexican coffee every morning. And I truly feel sorry for you if you’ve never experienced 24-hour bar service and mojitos at noon.

One thing that sucked big balls though was the wireless internet service that we paid $28 dollars for the privilege of sporadic service so horrible I was about to attach a hanger and foil as a makeshift antenna. Apparently there’s only one guy who runs the entire Mexican internet which has made him a billionaire with virtually no competition, thus no desire to improve. Many a customer (besides me) expressed outrage on having to pay for service that only worked twice on Tuesday while the customer relations just shrugged with a “whattaya gonna do, it’s Mexico?” look. One of the many times I had to go to the lobby for good reception, a handsome Latino resort worker in the tour department saw my frustration and sparked a friendly conversation about how I wanted to arrange the kidnapping of the wifi (non) service provider/kingpin. He encouraged me to give a written complaint, because the silly man thought that enough complaints would make a difference and spark a healthy fear of competition. Wait. There isn’t any.

Since hope springs eternal, I followed Mr. Tour Director to his office to fill out a form. Conversation drifted to the reason why I had an epic crack-addict equivalent to my technology, and I mentioned in passing that I run a blog. He asked me what my name was so I told him because I thought it was related to my plight of no web service in paradise, and he was going to challenge the Kingpin of Crappy Internet Service to a duel at sunset. Nope. He was Googling me on his smart phone, which ironically, had excellent service. He says…”Beyond black…and white…hmmm…what’s that?”

 Yes; those are my legs. Ha! My husband is between my legs. Get it?! HAHAHHA I crack myself up sometimes.

I give him my three-minute elevator spiel about how the site is dedicated to black women in interracial relationships, and I notice one of his eyebrows creep up his forehead. I’m not wearing my wedding ring–it’s locked in the hotel safe because the humidity was causing a nasty finger rash. So not only does this man believe I’m not married, he thinks I’m about 25 years old. I suppose it was with that information that he thought it would be REALLY COOL to jump behind me, grab my elbows from behind so he could draw me close to his body so he could breath his Latino on me and kiss my ear. At that moment, I might as well have been 25 because I was frozen with shock that a man I’ve known for ten minutes would grab a customer by the back and attempt to seduce her. I ran out of there quick, fast in a hurry while he’s promising to be waiting here when I come back in 12 hours to do a rain dance and virgin offering in hopes the internet will work. I didn’t feel scared or threatened, just…sort of invaded. I wondered what I could have ever said to this man to believe I’d be okay with him being so sexually forward. We know Latino men, like black men, generally give you pretty clear cut indications that they want you. But you’re trying to grind after a ten minute convo about the internet kingpin who is complicit in financially raping  competition and free-market- loving Americans? Needless to say I had to keep The Hubster from making a scene that might have gotten us a one-way ride to the jungle with no cell phone service or…internet.