It was our second day on the resort in Cancun, the first real day of our vacation as the previous day consisted mostly of traveling and getting settled in our rooms. The air was humid and the sun was beating down hard on our pale, sun-deprived bodies. To keep cool we spent most of the day floating in the ocean. We had intertubes so that our bottoms were submerged in the crisp clear water, but our faces and arms at liberty to enjoy the free drinks. It was still early, not quite 1:00, so I had just begun sipping my third beverage.
Surprisingly, my father had managed to become quite inebriated at such an early an hour. He is not much of a drinker so I was not expecting this by any means. He's a chatty feller in any case, but alcohol seems to escalate his loquaciousness. Unaware of his current state I mistakenly floated into his vicinity, and that’s when it happened. He cornered me, right there in the middle of the Gulf. I don’t know how it is possible to corner someone in the middle of an ocean, but this guy is good--he has a presence that is impossible to escape. Immediately he began to lecture me on life, work, and most importantly, success. "It doesn't matter what you do in life, just make sure you're the best at it. I don't care if you dig holes for a living, if you're best goddamn hole-digger around you're gonna get hired and you're gonna make good money. The key is to get yourself educated,” he advised me. He then went on to extol the benefits of education, “you went college, you have the power to do anything you want now. Once you have that degree you can get any job out there, you won’t have to work too hard and you’ll still earn a great living.”
This guy was killing the small buzz I had managed to acquire and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I should have agreed with him in hopes that he would release me, but irritated by the forced interaction and his complete ignorance (and perhaps more affected by the alcohol than I had thought), I instead found myself contradicting him. “Well, actually a bachelor’s degree doesn’t hold the same weight that it used to,” I began. “And to be honest, I’m not opposed to hard work. Plus, I have no real desire to earn an excessive amount of money. I’d just like to have enough to support a comfortable, simple lifestyle…and burgeoning drinking habit” I added with a smile.
This angered him, “you’re young, you don’t know what you want!” He argued. “Just think of all you could afford with a high paying job. Hell, you can have a condo on the beaches of Cancun!” I looked at him annoyed and puzzled, hadn’t I just informed him that I had no desire for such extravagances? But he didn’t notice me and went on to devise a plan for his own escape into life on the beaches of Mexico. Slowly he moved his head back and forth surveying the shore. "I'm looking around at all these people working hard on this resort" he started. "You've got the waitresses walking around in the hot sun getting people drinks, the jet-ski men tuning up the jet ski’s, the boat drivers taking people parasailing. All these people working hard, and you know who's making the most money?” I shook my head indicating that I was not aware. “The man walking around the beach with that goddamn iguana!” He answered. “People are willing to pay an arm and a leg to get their picture taken with a goddamn iguana. I'm gonna buy a goddamn iguana! Hell, I'm gonna get two, in case one dies!" Then with a smile and in a tone of conviction, "that's what I'm gonna do, get myself two iguanas and move to Mexico."
Baffled by his soliloquy, I stared out toward the shore speechless and praying that he was through. I saw that my sisters were still splashing around in the tide. Upon seeing me stuck in conversation with my father they had been thrown into fits of laughter. Now finally able to compose themselves they recognized my anguish and called out to me, “come on, we’re going to the swim-up bar!” Thank God, I needed a fucking drink after that.
