Spectacular Failure

-- This is the final entry in the first Title Contest, and it's Lisa's. Mission complete! I've written about one failed vacation before in "Down with the Ship," but this is about two people who find they love each other after they've failed at trying to love each other the way they were expected to. Sound confusing? You bet. --

"Spectacular Failure"

Blow me a kiss, sweetie
I'll try to catch it
Between my teeth
Like a rose in a tango
Done in a country
Where we don't speak the language
And don't know the traps

Chase me to Madrid
Into the old hotel
Past the fountain in the lobby
Where we bob for pennies
Like they're really wishes
And try to scrounge up enough
To buy a burger
At the airport
Before we head home

This trip was a failure
A complete failure
Complete with lost luggage
Broken souvenirs
A stomach virus
Pickpockets
And your haircut

They called today
To tell me they found the luggage
And they've having it sent back
It'll be in Boston
By the time we get home
Waiting sheepishly for us
At our front door

Personally
I like the clothes we found
More than the ones we had
I like you in floral button-downs
And pants with oranges on them
That cut off right at the ankles
I never knew your ankles
Were so cute

I liked my wraparound dress
Even if it does cinch too much
In places I don't belong cinching
I believe the man who gave it to me
Told me it was his daughter's
Or his wife's
Either way he found it trashy
So he gave it to me
Wasn't that nice?

I like the flower that crazy lady
Gave me to put in my hair
Was she homeless
Or just insane
Or both?
The flower smells so nice
You'd think she would have wanted
To keep it
You'd think
Wouldn't you?

And the stilettos that prostitute
Let me borrow for the night
I should send her a thank-you card
But I'm not sure where I'd send it
I went to return the shoes to her
But she waved me away
And said now that a white woman
Had worn them dancing
She didn't want them back

These people are so strange
No sooner do they do something nice
Then they invalidate it
By insulting you

It's like an entire country
Full of my mother

Speaking of my mother
Do you think she'll mind the clay pots?
She kept mentioning them
How much she wanted genuine clay pots
Right from a little village in Spain
One of every color we could find
And we found forty-two
Who knew there were even forty-two colors
Of anything?

Let alone clay pots
Made in Spain

I don't blame you for breaking them
I participated, didn't I?
You just threw the first one
But I could have
I could have been the first
When those damn birds started squawking
I did what I always do
I tried ignoring it
And then I heard you get up
And I thought you were just going to close the window
I dreaded you doing that
Because it was so hot in that room
And the fan had stopped turning
Presumably because it was the last thing in the hotel
That wasn't broken
And it was sick of being different
From its sister appliances

Then I heard the first pot break
And a little part of me squeaked
To think that you could destroy something
Something that we had paid for
That we were bringing to my mother
It made me want to kiss you
Like I've never kissed you
In no way polite or simple
But in a messy
Dirty sort of kissing way

I heard another pot break
And the birds kept squawking
I felt myself rising out of bed
Not getting up
But physically levitating
Off the bed
And over to the table
Where we had set up the pots
Right near the window
Almost as if we had anticipated this moment

Then I was throwing pots too
And you were aiming for the birds
Even though as soon as you'd throw a pot
They'd disappear from one rooftop
Only to appear with a friend
On the very next one over

When we had finished throwing the pots
The birds squawked louder than ever
It was amazing that others weren't awake
Maybe they were used to these noises
But as the squawking reached a crescendo
You grabbed me and made love to me
Right there on the balcony
In full view of the birds
And it was devastating

To think we couldn't do that every night
For the rest of our lives

The next day you were a demon
You were possessed
By a stomach virus
Unlike any
That has ever been recorded
In any medical textbook

Doctors were sent from neighboring villages
All of them pronounced you dead
And left me alone with you
Even though you were eating parts of the mattress
And calling out to somebody named Luna
Or perhaps just the moon itself
Even though it was broad daylight

I saw you eat glass
I saw you sew mittens
I saw you tap dance
I saw you write in Aramaic

I saw you pee in the last clay pot
And then toss it off the balcony
Into a holy parade

It took two days for your fever to break
And then you sat up in bed
And asked for English muffins
And you didn't seem to be concerned at all
That you were strapped to the bed
And there were Bible verses written on your skin
You thought you were sweating
But I had actually begun bathing you in holy water
And praying for you to just die
So I could go home
And be done with this nightmare

But when I saw you open your eyes
And smile at me
And say 'Good morning'
I was glad you were alive
And surprised at how glad I was
And we had our English muffins
And made a house of cards
On your breakfast tray

The first time you left the room
After the stomach virus subsided
A pickpocket grabbed my purse
And ran straight into a moving vehicle

He was a chubby little pickpocket
I couldn't understand how he was ever good at thieving
I imagined him to be the one
All the other pickpockets talk about
About his incompetence
And clumsiness
Probably been arrested a few times already
And he only looked to be about fourteen

We took him to a nearby hospital
But all the doctors ran away when they saw you
Because at that point
You'd gotten quite the reputation
For being ridden with evil

Finally someone saw us
And our little pickpocket
Who they thought we were adopting
Because why else would we take him in
Rather than just leave in the road
With all the other fallen vandals?

When they told us he just had a broken leg
I was so relieved
Because I thought he would die
And there had already been
The threat of death on the vacation
And how could we possibly keep avoiding it

It wasn't until we had spoken with the doctor
That we went back to the room
And found the little guy missing
And my purse with all money
Gone as well

I looked out the window
And swore I saw him hobbling away
Down into some alley
Where a group of small kids was waiting for him

Perhaps that's his method
He steals
Throws himself into traffic
Breaks a leg
And then takes off
Bearing the pain the whole way

It sounds insane
But people have been talked into worse
Haven't they?

On our final day
After no sightseeing
After no clay pots
After no money
We decided to dance

I took the wraparound dress
You took the floral shirt
We dove into the fountain in the lobby
And got ourselves enough money
To buy a few drinks
And that burger
We knew we'd want later

We found a little club
And danced for ourselves
For our new marriage
And its spectacular beginning

We had failed at a honeymoon
And yet we felt amazing
Like we had an entire lifetime's worth of trouble
Packed into one awful week
During Spain's worst heatwave

When we had finished dancing
We walked by an all-night barbershop
And we simply had to get you a haircut
Just for the novelty of it

The barber seemed upset
Even though we were giving him business
At an hour when no normal person
Would want or need a haircut

Still he seemed angry
And that probably explains
Why he threw a bowl
That might not even have been empty
Right over your head
And shaved around it
Making you look like the Lost Beatle

Everyone on the plane is looking at us
Because we smell like sweat and Spanish hookers
And because we're dressed like vagabonds
And because you look like Sir Paul
And because I keep smiling and laughing to myself
As I write you this little confession

I plan on giving this to you
On our fiftieth anniversary
And if either of us dies before then
Then I'll leave the letter
Lying on a supermarket shelf
Next to a can of peaches

My confession is that I didn't love you
When we got engaged
Or when we got married
Or when the plane was landing
On the little airstrip
Right outside our honeymoon village

But right now
Closing the chapter
On this spectacular failure
Looking at you
In that ridiculous get-up
With that horrid haircut

I love you so much
I can't think of anyone
I'd rather fail with more

So go ahead, baby
Blow me a kiss