The Bahamas Vacation

Last week the Commoner and I hopped a plane (actually 3) to the Bahamas. It took considerable planning, 19 years to be exact, but we finally saved enough beer cans, pop bottles, and loose change to take a tropical vacation. And while living as a displaced princess has been difficult, it finally paid off. So 2 Gravol and a shot of vodka later we landed at the Nassau International Airport. And then it happened. Don't let anyone tell you that Bahamians are not as smart as us. They are, in fact, much smarter. Instantly upon arrival I was recognized for the princess that I am. The friendly natives greeted us off the plane by giving the Commoner a bag of peanuts and for me (drum roll, please) a tiara and silver wand. We were then whisked off in an unmarked vehicle to avoid paparazzi.

The Bahama Mama and the Pool Boy were disguised as natives and did not reveal their identity safely down the road from the airport. We celebrated by stopping at a local restaurunt and ate deep fried conch (pronounced konk). I fell in love with peas and rice, a native dish but really, really like the drink named after Darlene. Upon our safe arrival in their compound we discovered that we were indeed living in a palace. We were shown to our suite served a few more drinks and called it a night. The next day was a whole other adventure. A story for another day.