South Padre Island. Not just for Spring Break anymore

Big news, kids. B. Whitley is all grownsed up. He popped the question just before the Houston contingent and I arrived at his condo for a weekend of nothing doing. We spent the weekend parked - at the Wanna Wanna or at the condo or at the beach or at the Wanna Wanna.

I'm sorry to disappoint those of you who were hoping for some wild and crazy stories, but there's really nothing interesting to share about the weekend. Here are the "highlights" of my weekend.
  • Ate bar-b-que at some place in Harlingen that Texas Monthly suggested was in the Top 50 BBQ Joints in Texas. I was not impressed.
  • Convinced The Bolivian that he and his lady friend would be sleeping on the sofa and love seat respectively
  • Stared unabashedly at the attractive ladies and cougars roaming the beach and deck at the Wanna Wanna
  • Kicked myself at least six-and-a-half times about not protesting more vehemently when folks insisted on dinner at Amberjacks. That place blows Donkey Kongs.
  • Channeled my inner gentleman and moved from the bedroom to the couch so that The Bolivian and his lady friend could spoon
  • Endured the longest trip to The Blue Marlin (grocery store) in my life, which consisted of: leaving the Wanna Wanna, shopping for $100 worth of groceries, attempting to check-out, realizing that my credit card was at Wanna Wanna, realizing that I had no cash stash in my bathing suit, driving to the Wanna Wanna and retrieving my card, returning to The Blue Marlin and attempting to check-out only to be told that they don't take AmEx, having an aneurysm at the counter, calling the condo seven times before Baby bailed me out by delivering B. Whitley and his card.
  • Wished Mel (the girl in the photo) was around to sing Baby Got Back

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