As has become tradition, all of those near and dear to me get a blog on their birthday. Zoe, this one’s going out to you…
2 years ago, my dear friend Judy was far too swamped to during the holidays to select, shop, wrap and distribute her annual barrage of Christmas gifts and employed Zoe and I to do it for her. “You mean she wants us to be professional shoppers, throwing around cash and picking out fabulous presents for strangers. Fuck yes, I’ll do it.”
We really went to town, purchasing all of San Francisco, fantastically wrapping it all, and then sending it all over the country. It was so much fun, we refused to accept any money from dear Judy. “Fine.” She said. “I’ll just send you two to my favorite spa.”
She then promptly booked us a room in Calistoga, we borrowed my mom’s convertible, and headed up to the wine country for a girl’s weekend. Feeling too fabulous for words, we stopped at Dean and DeLuca on the way up and purchased wine and fancy cheese and things. We pulled up to the spa with our mouths open, in awe of how perfect and pristine it all was. Snapping photos like mad, we dropped our bags, lit a fire, opened the wine and burst into hysterics. Toasting Judy, we had facials and pedicures, and then got dressed and went to dinner. Judy, of course, had included a gift certificate to her favorite restaurant and we took the opportunity to get ridiculously overdressed and pretend we were famous.
At the restaurant, in between flirting with waiter and sipping wine, we noticed 2 lesbians sitting rather near us and being amazingly loud. Zoe leaned in, “They’re in the room next to us. I bet they think we’re lesbians, too.”
Ooooh. That makes us much more interesting.
We promptly forgot about them and stumbled back to the hotel close to midnight. The huge pool, filled with 100 degree water from Calistoga Springs is open 24 hours a day and we decided it would be a good idea to throw on bathing suits and swim in the middle of the night. After all, we figured we’d have the whole pool to ourselves.
Indeed we did, and at 1am, Zoe and I dove into the steaming water and floated around endlessly, laughing and telling secrets and having an absolutely marvelous and non-controversial time.
All of a sudden, we’re no longer alone. It’s the lesbians!
And the lesbians felt chatty.
Practically naked, they slid into the pool with us, and in between wildly making out and doing god knows what underwater, they reminded us that they were staying right next door, peppered us with questions and dropped sexual innuendo. Zoe and I shot each other looks across the pool as we patiently explained that we were simply friends, spending a weekend at a spa and implied that we were certainly not the kind of girls who would be having a foursome with 2 hair-covered middle-aged lesbians.
As we left the pool, the more aggressive of the two screamed at us, “I hope we don’t keep you guys awake tonight. Those are pretty thin walls!”
Oh my god.
In fact, we heard not a peep and slept beautifully through the night, awaking to croissants and lattes and a lovely drive home. As we threw our bags in the car, the lesbians packed up as well. To our great horror, they actually came over to hug us goodbye, offering a phone number scribbled on a room service menu. As we drove past vineyards and wineries, listening to the Spice Girls and recounting our night, we took that number and offered it up to the gods, letting it fly out the window to be found by ladies less inhibited than the likes of us….