My wife and I traveled to the Western side of Belize in January 2002. We stayed in a beautiful Jungle lodge overlooking the Belize river with iguanas, monkeys, and Toucans above in the trees. One day we took a day trip to the stupendous Mayan ruins across the Guatemalan border, Tikal. We shared a van with a 60 year old gentleman traveling with a 25 year old student - both from NJ. The 60 year old, known only as "Tank" was everything I envisioned a longshoreman from NJ to be. He was brash, crass, loud, and used a lot of profanity (sort of a northeastern version of myself, I guess). The student was meek and quiet. She sat in the seat behind him in the van and watched as the Guatemalan jungle rolled by. A very drab Jewish couple from NY in their early 40s rounded out the crew. We all chatted on the 3 hour trip to the ruins swapping traveling stories and funny anecdotes.
When we arrived at the ruins, Kelly (my wife) and I seperated from the group and toured the ruins ourselves (with the help of "Lonely Planet"). We rejoined the group at the van for the return trip home. The ruins were amazing, and we were all buzzing with the excitement that evolves from rewarding, yet adventurous travel. We had climbed pyramids, watched exotic birds, listened to howler monkeys, and became absorbed in the mystical ruins of Tikal. During the ride home, we all decided to meet at the lodge restaurant that evening for dinner and drinks. Being the lover of crowds and people that I am, I knew this was going to be a blast.
I walked down to the bar about 45 minutes early for a few shots of courage before the Tikal reunion. Kelly was still drying her hair in the room, and I was itching for some cocktails to get the social juices flowing. The members of the group started to trickle into the bar (including my wife). We were all talking. I found myself in a conversation with the 25 year old student who was in the midst of a 30 minute tale describing the intricacies of majoring in socialism at Trenton Community College. I was on drink number 6 and acting completely aborbed in this exciting conversation. She finished her story and the conversation had an uncomfortable pause (5-6 seconds)
I could not take the quiet, so I said, "You know, I think it's great that you are traveling with your grandfather. My grandparents are dead, and I would have enjoyed doing things like this with them when they were in the twilight of their lives."
She looked at me a bit startled and replied, "Tank and I are together. You know, like 'together' together."
Kelly, who had watched her loving husband stick his foot in his mouth (for the 859th time since we wed in 2001) handed me a gin and tonic and took over the conversation, taking the subject in a completely different direction. I was very quiet (and embarrassed) at dinner, aided only by the reprieve that these people were heading out of the lodge the next morning back to NJ where I hoped we would never run into each other again.