Back in the day in the Florida Keys,

I hooked up with a speedo, and sang (badly) on stage.

After the incredible CU football game in Miami, Hammer, Slaw, and I still had a few days left to explore, so we put the top down on our rented Buick Reatta, and headed south on Route One, to the Florida Keys.

I insisted we stop in Key Largo, (to honor that classic Boggie/Bacall movie featuring villain Edward G. Robinson) and after pulling over at a nice-looking restaurant called The Italian Fisherman, we were greeted by charming tag-team waiters, Dennis and Alan, (shortened to "Den-n-Al" on the vanity plate of their classic wood-paneled station wagon in the lot).

Den and Al were a gay couple who'd been working together for years, and everytime we asked for something like another napkin, or parmesan cheese, they'd lean in extra close and cock their heads to the side, holding a hand up to their ear like a big catcher's mit.

"BEG A PARDON?"

"COME AGAIN?"

We'd repeat ourselves, speaking slower and louder each time, but they'd just stare as if we were speaking in tongues. It didn’t matter though, because they were so nice, and the food was delicious.

Continuing a bit further down the "Overseas Highway" we made it to Islamorada Key, deciding to stop at a cute motel with a pool and a tiki bar, desperate to go back to Colorado with tans. A crossroads of weathered docks and boardwalks led in opposite directions, and after some time by the pool, we found an outdoor restaurant to perch on stools and toast the sunset with strong rum punch.

Later, the restaurant became more of a crowded bar, and a DJ set up in the corner, keeping the people dancing and on the prowl. I found myself making subtle eye contact with a super-hot guy across the bar in a cut-up tank-top, but the Bimbos just laughed when I pointed him out.

"That Chippendales's looking dude?" (hahaha) "Seriously?"

"He's fully hot. Chippendales or not."

(hahaha) "Sure thing. You should go for it."

"Maybe I will! Wait, where'd he go?"

As I scanned the patio, a male voice spoke from directly over my shoulder.

"Looking for me?"

I nodded yes and shivers ran my spine when he put his hands on my shoulders to turn me around.

"Hey, I'm Bill."

"I'm Brooke."

That was about all it took. The attraction was real and unabashed. Neither of us with any illusions of a more meaningful relationship - it was all about the sex - and we quickly made our way to a darker part of the dock to make out, and then to a random hotel room to fuck.

It was one of those anything goes moments, and I spent the night with Bill, (local boy/model, who drove a black Firebird when he wasn’t running a Shell Shop with his brother) as we enjoyed each other every way possible.

The next day I found the girls back at the pool tanning, but I was just there to grab my swimsuit, on my way to meet Bill again. He wanted to take me on his boat and have more sex. (Check and check.)

That evening Slaw, Hammer, and I drove back to the same restaurant on Key Largo, The Italian Fisherman, where I replayed all the sordid details of my day, and the part where Bill took his shorts off and jumped in the water. Both girls interrupted..

"Wait, did he have a swimming suit on?"

"He jumped off the boat naked?"

I assured them that he had a swimming suit on... and that it was a speedo.

"A SPEEDO?!

BWWWWAHahahahahahah!!!!!"

"Oh my God, YOU HOOKED UP WITH A SPEEDO!?"

"Wait, was it more SPEEDO, or more LaLANNE?

“Whatever, you guys have no idea. If anyone should be rockin' a speedo it's him, he's fucking fine."

"SPEEDO(!) AHHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHA -WHAT COLOR? I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT COLOR? What color was his SPEEDO?"

"Okay, well I shouldn't even tell you this, but it was leopard ."

"AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

OH MY GOD YOU FUCKED A LEOPARD PRINT SPEEDO!!!!!

Hahahaha WHAT?? - I CAN'T EVEN TAKE IT!!!!

Slaw and Hammer belly-laughed so hard they literally nearly fell out of their chairs, forcing Den-n-Al to rush over and beg a pardon if everything was okay.

"You know he's just using you." One of the girls proclaimed, while the other nodded in agreement, "I’m sure you’re just another random this guy has gotten with? He probably doesn't even remember your name." And they seemed to take quite a lot of pleasure in making sure I felt like shit.

But it didn't work.

"Ummm, I’m pretty sure we were using each other." I smirked. There's nothing wrong with a random hookup. Especially since I don't feel used - matter o' fact, I feel GOOOOOOOOD."

That seemed to take the wind out of their righteousness, and after the best shrimp scampi, seafood linguini, and lobster with butter (chin), we made our way back to Islamorada Key, and a favorite local dive bar called Woody's.

(*SIDE NOTE: Bill did remember my name, and we actually kept in touch, writing to each other a few times, and making plans to meet up again. But after getting a job at the Boulder Bennigan's, I started dating a guy named Keenan and things changed … but twenty years later Bill the Speedo found me on Facebook - so I guess he DID remember my name!)

The house band at Woody's was a group of giant Seminole Indians called "Big Dick and the Extenders", and front man Big Dick, spotted us right away, decked in too much CU gear, overly boastful of our National Championship team.

"OHHHH, HELLO GIRLS! Looks like we have some CU fans in the house tonight!"

"Woohoo! Go Buffs!" We squealed back.

"Girls, why don't you come on up here and sing us a little song or sumpin'?"

"Yeah! CU in the House! Woohoo!" And we made our way on stage as if we knew what we were doing.

"First, why don't you start by telling us your names...

What's your name darlin'?" Big Dick asked, as he held the microphone in front of Slaw.

"Me? I'm Erin." Slaw answered.

"Well Erin, you're just about as cute as can be."

"And next, what's your name sweetheart?" Moving the mic over to Hammer.

"Um, my name's Michelle." She stated.

"Well, that's just great Michelle, we’re so glad to have you at Woody's tonight!"

"And finally, who do we have here?" and he put the microphone in front of me.

"Hi, I'm Brooke."

"Okay... so Brooke .... I wanna' fuuuuuuuck you."

Which received a big laugh from all the drunks in the crowd.

Then we proceeded to sing with the band as they played, "Wild Thing" by the Troggs, surely breaking a few eardrums along the way with our horribly squeaky voices.

"Wild Thing! You make my heart sing! C'mon c'mon WILD THANG! You make everything groooooooovy!"

It was a night I hope I'll never forget, and in the morning we drove up the coast to Ft. Laurderdale, returned the rented Riatta, and boarded our flight to Colorado - one more Florida adventure in the books.

(Go CU!)