Just What I Needed: A Weekend Escape to Paradise

I’m still not exactly sure what I was escaping from, but my mission was accomplished after an early morning ride on the L-I-double-R this past Friday! Our host picked up her benefactors at the Westhampton station and took us for a short drive before pulling the BMW into a ridiculously beautiful estate that just happens to be where her (KC) & her hubby (LC) live the good life when they aren’t on 3-month-long excursions to Italia.

It was immediately brought to my attention that I would not want to leave this place and might have to quit my job in order to accommodate my new lifestyle.

(Backstory: KT met KC shortly after moving to New York and securing employment at the Essex House, a luxury midtown hotel that the Mr. & Mrs. would stay at when in the City.)

After settling in, KT and I headed off to Splish Splash, the waterpark in the area where a friend lifeguards and was able to snag us comp tickets. We barely got our money’s worth, seeing as we rode two slides and called it a day due to the long lines of bitch-tits and screaming brats! So after having a possible run-in with swimmer’s-ear, athlete’s foot and an assortment of other reoccurring fungus-related ailments, we drove back to Paradise and promised each other to never leave the general vicinity again.

The evening brought swordfish for dinner and the Spanish Harlem Orchestra for dessert. We danced in the isles and soaked up the energy that comes from live salsa music played by a Grammy-winning 14-man orchestra. After returning from the Westhampton Beach Performing Arts Center, millions of stars awaited us and so did the jacuzzi!

(Sidenote: It’s never been more clear that hottubs/jacuzzis are on my top-ten-list of things that get me “wet”!)

We began Saturday morning with a stop at the Beach Bakery on Main Street (so effing cute) and a bike ride along the road running parallel to the beach. After feeling the burn, we ended up poolside for a full day of sun-bathing mixed with some clay-court tennis, ping-pong, and every good intention of kayaking on the bay. The kayaking will have to wait until next time, along with the ’66 Ford Mustang convertible that we never took advantage of.

One of the things I enjoyed most about the weekend was the appreciation for the art of (great) cooking. KC is all about cooking with the best and freshest ingredients, and she never failed to use the prep time leading up to each meal as an opportunity to teach us youngsters about all things culinary. I find it intriguing to watch someone who knows their way around a kitchen, and what a great kitchen it was!

So Saturday was a night to eat (Italian), drink (fine wine) and pass out early (in my case). I remember trying to follow a game of ping-pong between two of the other visitors (one of which was a tall, dark drink of I-wanna-tap-that water) and then being sent up to bed by KT. Good times.

Sunday was nothing more than a siesta-of-sorts for yours truly. I got some more great sun and reached the pinnacle of relaxation around lunchtime, after which I was reminded that my time in Paradise was quickly coming to a disturbing halt.

KC drove us to the station with moments to spare, with our care-package of host-prepared goodies in tow. A quick switch in Jamaica and we were pulling into Penn Station in no time. A split cab later and I was in the relative comfort of my own apartment feeling a sting of dread while contemplating the Monday ahead.

Escaping was easy. Returning is always difficult. But at least I had three days to enjoy the good life, get some good sun, experience some great food and spend some much-needed time with just me and my thoughts.

May the next 11 days fly by and New Orleans welcome me with open arms and no hard feeling for staying away so long! The reunion is going to be ridiculous to say the least.

Getty with anticipation,

DWM