If it is a vacation, why not indulge, participate in the shenanigans, so sugary sweet, that even looking at them you are sure a cavity is forming. There are cupcakes living in Provincetown oozing with pink icing so thick on top, that at least each one has a double swirl almost calling you as a siren would sailors lost at sea, “Come closer, touch me, now bit by bite finish my butter filled batter, until you fall into a sugar coma. Succumb to your oral cravings smother your tongue with the thickest pink super deluxe topping, and don't stop till all that icky sticky gooey stuff is licked clean from your pinky to your thumb.
We arrived in P-Town, said hello to at least a dozen more people then Joe and I even know In LA. We felt the salt of the sea tickle our eyes and play with the sneeze sensors of our nose. Hand in hand we strolled among the heterosexuals and the homosexuals, those whose sex was not determined, and those to whom gender was not and never an issue. So much to inhale, almost an inebriation, drunk on magic, mystery, mayhem and a full moon.
This place is Joe’s and my sanctuary. Hopefully one day in our lives ALL of us, can lay claim to something so special that the turmoil and tumult of Trump will be meaningless. A place with secrets only to be shared by you and the people you love unconditionally. Day One…
