I doubled up on flotation devices and wore a body suit and a life vest. I couldn’t go 3 feet under water even if I wanted to. I basically turned myself into a bar of ivory soap. Sinking was not an option. I’m all about floating. Even on airplanes, if the middle seat is open, I always look at the other person and with my eyes tell them “The middle cushion is MY flotation device“. I can barely swim and I never seemed to get the floating thing down. I blame bone density and low body fat percentage (holla!). So I had to play it safe. I also think of my mom when I’m in those situations. How distraught would she be if something happened to me while off in a place she can’t pronounce…
MY MOM: You’re going where?! Please be safe down there in Kinkos.
ME: Okay Ma, I will be. You want me to make you some color copies or bind a presentation while I’m there?
MY MOM: What?
On another note, our guides were all black. Caribbean blokes, who all swam like fish. Another excuse struck from the books. So if you’re keeping score. Blacks can swim and we can be President.
Shout out to Sister Sledge for being so cool and for officially dubbing me the “Greatest Dancer”
And a massive thanks and respect to Baron Vaughn for giving me the gig. I hope to pay it forward one day.