It is a rare and beautiful thing to find a bunch of confident, assertive, gregarious women who generously support and defend each other, champion each other’s causes, genuinely laugh at each others jokes, celebrate each others good fortunes, suffer each others losses and share the spot light amiably and willingly. To have friendships like these is a rich reward with interest that is compounded daily. To travel with these same friends is always an adventure.
Morning broke on the first full day of the trip. Thank God for plantation shutters that darken the room so the people in the bedrooms, who aren't twenty anymore, can get an adequate amount of beauty sleep. Otherwise, there would be Hell to pay.
We spend the morning in our jammies, sipping mugs of coffee and rehashing the antics of the night before. There is quite a lot of ground to cover.
This is arguably my favorite part of the trip: hearing the somewhat hyperbolized versions of everyone's stories and observations - especially the ones that materialized while others of us were engrossed in our own social misadventures.
- A spot on reenactment of someone's unique dance maneuvers, complete with facial expressions.
- A description of the couple who both would need to be weighed with a cattle scale, who wore matching blingy western belts which were only barely visible peaking out from with the rolls of fat into which they were jammed.
- This one or that one's faintly concealed heart palpitations for another of us.
- The numerous impromptu gymnastics - due to misguided dance moves, too few seats in a crowded car, vertigo, or plain old overindulgence aggravated by jet lag.
- A revelation that one of us would make a fortune if forced to go to work as a stripper, if they would only play "You Can Leave Your Hat On" over and over again.
- A bull fight.
- A polka.
- A sidesplitting argument with a cranky bar tender.
From the start it is clear that the Krotchfelts are a new breed of girl being welcomed to the pack.
Based on an interaction between them, which could have been mistaken for stand up comedy, and which could have easily dovetailed into a nasty little hair pull, I was beginning to understand what made them both tick.
Attention. Each was motivated by attention. One sister clearly relished the spotlight, and the other was willing to fight a little to keep a few square feet of stage for herself. One, an exhibitionist of sorts, the other a willing sidekick.
It was a new twist in the same old cocktail, but so far it was pure entertainment.
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