It’s a warm tropical night in Martinique. I’ve been here for 2 days and the weather has been perfect, warm but with a breeze and cloud cover. I spent today with James and Scott, life partners and business partners in a hair salon, in a suburb of Milwaukee.
I’m not too sure about Scott’s background but I do know his mother is alive because he mentions her frequently. James is classically handsome, an Adonis, chiseled features and a great body. His father is supposedly the last of the mafia dons- although his hair is blonde, and he looks more Scandinavian than Italian.
I’d met them on the plane from Miami to Guadalupe. Air France- free booze on the Club Med express. They were trading hair cuts for beads, the currency used at the club for call drinks, and extras.
The disco was open tonight and Scott and James and I , and Lila from NY, Debbie from Dallas (no, not that Debbie), Brad from Redondo and the brothers from Newport- were all getting primed in the boy’s pavilion room, one of only 6 rooms at the resort with a double bed.
My hair was being teased and sprayed and piled high on top of my head. Smoking cigarettes and East Indian “tabac”, I was feeling a bit giddy, a bit silly, and a bit wild. My first journey onto the nude beach today had resulted in a bit of sunburn, everywhere. Kerrie with a K from Palos Verdes in a white gauzy dress, arrived today with a case of Taittinger and a monogrammed silver ice bucket to keep the bubbles flowing for my new group of friends, and helped erase the tenderness of the fiery burnt flesh of my privates.
To be continued….