What started as an exciting adventure turned to dire circumstances yesterday when The Famous Author said he was going for a drink at the pool bar and never came back. I am waiting, trapped in the Puerto Vallarta hotel room.Last week, apparently on a wild hair, TFA whisked me off to the Newark Airport and booked us passage to Mexico. "Sounds like fun," I said.
If only I had known.
And after a weekend of drunken debauchery, I thought we were headed home. I mean, we've got a signing this weekend in Eatontown. But as we packed and prepared to leave, TFA said he had to run out for one more margarita.
That was 22 hours ago, and frankly, now I'm worried. Did TFA really leave me here, unattended and unfinanced? Was he the victim of foul play? Another beautiful redhead? One of those dreadrul green iguanas?
Guesses, anyone?
1 comment:
Austin...You know there's a red head at the bottom of his disappearance. Beats Eatontown. Once won a prize in a bicycle race there in 1973 despite wiping out right before the finish and riping the flesh off the left side of my body. What moron put the course over gravel?
Hope you find TFA. Don't drink the water or ice cubes.
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