Chicharones

It came into my mind to run to a mirror. Any mirror. In my haste, I stubbed my toe so bad that I fell down on my knees from the pain. Down on the floor I began to stare at the lines in the parquet, studying them, like unsolved math, as if they could explain my predicament. Because truthfully, I don't even know if there is mirror in this place, because actually, I do not know where I am, but there's got to be a bano? And a bano's got to have a mirror, but what most frightens me is the reason I am looking for a mirror. If you had seen this episode of the Twilight Zone, the one where the guy looks in the mirror and he's not himself, he's a pig, that scenario is now my worst fear. Maybe I'm overreacting and maybe I'm not because my hands just told me when I woke up in these unfamiliar sheets, that my face is all puffy like chicharones, and why am I saying that word instead of pork rinds? And bano? Really? At least I was finally able to get up out of the bed before I fell, because when I first woke up I was lying there for what seemed like hours, but I'm unsure. Maybe it was minutes, or for all I know, maybe days? I'm so confused. Repeatedly, I opened my eyes, and all I wanted to do was close them again, fighting a blinding headache, a headache like I've never known but has been described to me as a hangover….but….I….don't…...drink…..so WTF?

Nice bathroom! With a marble shower bigger than my entire bathroom, and whew, a mirror, and it's as big too. The good news is, I am not a pig and maybe it's the lighting, but I actually look damn good, if I do say so myself. Younger. Thinner. In a tight lacey teddy? Me? Maybe it's my hands that are puffy. No. They look younger too, and my fingernails are painted red and I never wear nail polish. Am I tripping? Have I gone mad? Oddly, after seeing what I look like, who cares. Maybe it's my ego talking, but I'm liking what I see, feeling a bit pumped up, like I want to go out dancing, get back in the saddle. And my headache? What headache? Did I have a headache? Why was I looking for a mirror?

There is a little light squeezing through the thick curtains in the other room, so I am assuming they are hotel room darkening curtains, and I am in a hotel. Let's just walk over to the window, pull back the curtains and see what's out there! Blow me away! I am in Mexico! I know this place! The Grand Velas Riviera Maya! They've been playing their commercial every night on late night TV, with this exact incredible view! White sand. Blue-green surf. Private cabanas. Damn! How the hell did I get here? Should I really care how I got here? Hell no! Momma's goin swimmin….and dancin! But I better change out of this teddy thing first. Let's see what's in the closet…

*****

"Margaret, Margaret wake up. You've been out here all night in front of the TV. You better get in the shower or you'll be late for work."

"Okay, okay, give me a sec. This nasty headache is still bothering me, but it's better than last night. Maybe I should call in sick and take it easy today."

"Whatever. I gotta go. Feel better, Hon. Do you want me to pick up anything on the way home?"

"Thanks. Yeah. Do you think you can pick me up some Tylenol. I've only got a few left, and….also, could you pick me up some of of those pork rinds I like? I've suddenly got this overwhelming craving for pork rinds.