This is the story I told.....

Last week, I opted to visit my friend in Mexico, again. He seemed lonely and in need of a positive force of sunshine. Or as I would like to think I can be at times.
So, I descend on his life. I show up with little notice and take over his guest bedroom. Sun, beach, beer, rum...yes, life was grand. His friends invited us over to dinner at their house in Choya Bay. Gorgeous home. I completely understood why they sold their home in Arizona to relocate to paradise.
We opt to view the sunset from their deck. I am almost obsessed with capturing that experience on a daily basis. Regardless we climb the spiral staircase to the balcony and view the awesomeness of the sunset.
Eventually, I realize that I should head downstairs to use their facilities. Big sandals, cocktails imbibed, narrow staircase lead to what happened...I fell three steps (at least). I stand up, insist that I am fine and continue on with the night. Really, I blame it all on the sandals. Alcohol was a small factor (in my mind).
The next morning, I wake up, and am super stiff. I feel that I slept poorly on my hip, forgetting the tragic fall. In my mind, the hip issue was attributed to my decision to sleep on my side.
I shower and still pain persists. Finally, I decide to look at my leg.
OUCH...holy cow, is there a gigantic bruise from my fall on the steps.
Yet, this is not the story I retell.
Instead, I let people assume the worst of my friend, Jonny. He is more than happy to suggest that he smacked me for disobeying his crazy whims. He actually insists that I show people my bruise so they know he means business. He claims that if I don't do his laundry, tomorrow, he will hit the other side.
If only, I had a photo to illustrate the bruise.
We went to a swim bar and these two couples saw me walk away.
Ouch...wow, that is some bruise on your back....what?
I was confused. I thought they saw the bruise on my leg.
Nope. I had a crescent shaped scar on my back as well. I feel it is necessary for them to view the bruise on my leg to fully understand the fall or Jonny's abuse.
We do a shot with this foursome and depart.
Two days later, I run into them at the Chili Cook off with Jon's roommate, Derek. I think it confused them. I realize that if I was out with one of the guys, immediately, the assumption was that I was "his" girl. Why is this a normal practice? Can't single men and women be friends?
Seriously, everywhere, I went in Mexico, I had a "chaperone" of sorts. To me, it was nice to have someone to talk to. To others, it appeared that I was spoken for. Very confusing to split my time between guys or so it appeared based on people's expressions in the community.
Or, perhaps they were confused by who actually gave me the lovely bruise on my right hip. Sometimes it is fun to give people something to talk about.....