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When talking dirty comes to life

And sometimes, talking dirty to someone comes to life.

When I’m making out with some one, I tend to be a little chatty. Sorry to any relatives who might be reading this. Not that it should surprise anyone, considering I make my living teaching and writing blogs and performing solo shows. But it’s true. I like to talk. I like to create scenes and scenarios for the person I’m with. Think of it as a play and I’m just providing some stage directions.

Maybe it was the third or fourth time Jaimie and I were making out. All of a sudden I started talking about wanting to take her on vacation.

“I want to take you to Florida,” I said. “To a nice hotel. Right on beach.”

At the time all Jaimie said was, “Mhmm, mhmm.” Later on she admitted to wondering if I was a psychopath. “Whose idea of talking dirty is describing a vacation? Especially to someone you just started making out with?”

All I said was, "Mhmm. Mhmm."

But here’s the thing- a few months later, I took her on that trip to Florida.

I had already had it planned. I had been to this hotel a few months earlier. They had a deal on Travelzoo for $79 a night in late October of 2014. This just happened to coincide with my fall break so on a whim I bought some nights and headed down. The first night was freezing cold, but the rest of the time was beautiful. I sat by and the pool. I graded papers on my balcony. I made a Tinder profile to try to have a one night stand but I got no matches in the area.

How sad is that? No matches in the middle of freaking Florida.

I decided to back again after the school year ended, and that I would try and bring someone with me. Maybe that dirty talk was just planting the seeds, because a few months later, Jaimie and I cranked up my 1997 Mercury Sable and headed to Florida.

Jaimie was pretty nervous about the trip. Five days is a long time to be away with someone you just started dating. What if we ran out of things to talk about? What if it was awkward? What if we didn’t have a good time? Also she didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t shown her pictures off the place. She later told me she was picturing a Days Inn on the side of the highway a couple of miles from the beach, so when we pulled into this resort right on the ocean, she thought she was dating a baller.

Truth is, because I had been there before on that super sweet deal I was now eligible for returning rates. Between that and my Triple A discount, I might have looked like a baller, but the rate per night was not.

We had a great couple of days. It wasn’t awkward. We never ran out of things to talk about. We went to the beach and the pool. We had lunches on the patio facing the ocean. One night I acted like a king and ordered room service. We had such a great time we went back the next year. That was 2016.

We haven’t been on a real vacation since.

That all changes on Saturday. We are heading back to that same hotel in Florida for six days by the ocean. Six days by the pool. I might even splurge one night and act like a king and order room service again.

And since my talking dirty seemed to have manifested itself in real life, I think I’ll bring my health into it the next time it happens. Jaimie and I will kissing on the couch, and I'm whisper into her ear, “I can’t wait to be doing this when I’m 75 and totally healthy!” “Oh baby just wait until I’m spending my social security money on you, that’s when the real sexiness will begin!”

And if sometime next week you can hear Jaimie’s eyes rolling from Palm Coast, Florida, you’ll know what’s going down.

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