I was in NYC for ten days, and Lawyer Boy had a race in The Poconos. We were debating whether he should come see me in New York, or I should meet him in The Poconos. The latter option seemed easier.
"Where will we stay?" he asked.
"Motel 6, Comfort Inn, wherever," I replied, "I don't care where we go as long as we're together."
"Paradise Stream?" he suggested.
"Is that one of those couples' resorts? I would laugh my ass off if we went there," I commented. Lawyer Boy and I were never a particularly romantic couple so the thought of us at one of those resorts was rather entertaining.
He mentioned that a lot of the other guys on the racing circuit stay at a nice Best Western in the area. That sounded perfect, and he said that he would take care of the reservations.
I awoke that morning to a text message from him, which said:
Even if I'm so distracted at the race today that I place last, I'll still leave happy because I'm going to see you.
I wrote back, "You will come in first today and you will get a special prize from me later!" (You can't lose your priorities when you are in a relationship, right?)
I took the bus down from NYC and was practically jumping in my seat when I saw him in the parking lot. I got in his Lotus, and 15 minutes later, he said, "We're here!"
As a surprise, he had booked us a room at Paradise Stream, a Caesar's Resort for couples. We pulled up and saw one couple playing bacchi, another couple walking hand-in-hand coming from archery, and another couple on bicycles. Everyone was smiling so much that I couldn't stop laughing. It was like they all had drunk the Romance Kool-Aid or something.
Lawyer Boy got the key and we headed off to our room. He opens the door, and right there in the middle of our room was a 7-foot tall champagne glass Jacuzzi tub.
"Oh My God!" I exclaimed.
Then, I turned to the right and saw that we had our own HUGE, indoor, heart-shaped pool. I continued to laugh hysterically as we explored the upstairs with the king-sized round bed, mirrors everywhere, little star-like lights in every room, a massage table, a sauna, and a shower with a bench inside. There was also an Egyptian motif with pyramids and hieroglyphics all over the walls. This place was so wrong that it was right! (I later found out that this is the only room like that in the whole resort. Nice one, Lawyer Boy!)
"Why do people even leave the room?" I wondered.
The next morning, we woke up early. We had over an hour to kill before Room Service came, and put that time to good use. We skipped the pool since we had gone for a dip the night before, and bounced between the bed, the shower, and the champagne glass. I hit my head lightly, while he was doing me from behind in the shower. I didn't want to stop so I didn't say anything.
In retrospect, maybe I should have stopped. Or exhibited some restraint until after I had breakfast. Or something. This is my reenactment of what transpired after we had finished having sex and were relaxing in the shower.
Me: I'm starting to see stars.
Lawyer Boy: Maybe we should lay you…
Yes, folks, I had so much fun that I passed out! Thankfully, Lawyer Boy caught me and put me on the floor so I didn't hurt myself. When I awoke after 45 seconds, he was over me and told me to take it easy.
I texted my nurse friend, Nicole, and she thought that I should call my doctor. I really didn't want to do that since I knew that she wouldn't understand. I decided to head home and see how I felt the next day. I had a little headache, but didn't think it warranted calling the doctor. Plus, I still couldn't stop smiling!
The jokes from our trip practically wrote themselves. It helps that Lawyer Boy and I have similar senses of humor.
"How many other girls have you rendered unconscious?" I inquired in a text.
"I'm thinking of an LL Cool J song," he texted me back. (That song would be "Mama Said Knock You Out.")
When I saw my doctor next, I did tell her what happened:
I fainted once in August, but it wasn't a big deal. I was at a Couples' Resort, and there was a lot of celebration. I hit my head slightly and hadn't eaten any breakfast.
"So, you were drinking?" she asked.
"No. I don't drink. Multiple multiples…"
The doctor just stared at me with a look of awe on her face. I felt bad since I doubt that this doctor has had one multiple orgasm, let alone several. But, hey, what can you do? The resort ain't called Paradise Stream for nothing!