I’m on my way to lunch at Rod-n-Reel on Anna Maria Island. “Do we have to swim there?” he asks as he looks over to see the location balloon in the middle of the blue water . I’ve been before so I know it’s at the end of a long pier. I also know I’m getting the onion rings. The last time I was here, two great things happened that set up this moment.

I was talking to some “stranger” about being new to the area and wanting to head down to Key West to bartend while I was waiting for my fries and he suggested I stay around and check out St. Pete’s. And as I was eating my fries, someone else told me how good the onion rings were and I decided that I would come back sometime and get those. That was about a month ago and I’m glad I stayed around. I love St. Pete’s/Clearwater and here I am with someone I like a lot and he’s taking me to lunch. Both of those guys were right.

I get a call from the ranch where my trailer is parked saying that they were worried because I didn’t come home last night and was I okay.

So, I have an interview for a crew member on a boat. And even though it goes well, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to take it. The second step is going out on the boat for free and I’m definitely going to take that! The main problem is that the U.S Coast Guard is the governing authority, a federal entity and even though medical marijuana is legal in Florida, where the ship sails from, it is not legal on a federal level and so I would have to give up my medicine to have this job. And as much as I love being on the water and being on a boat and learning more about sailing, I also want to be well. A free sail is a free sail and I’m going to go, with an open mind.

It’s an open bar. I also understood there to be food but a few drinks in I overhear another passenger ask about the food and the captain responds and motions to another boat out on the water, “that’s that boat.” Oh dear. I’m already a few sangrias in, but I figure they probably water them down since they’re free so I have another. A few sangrias later I overhear another crew member who’s bartending say to another patron, “yeah, and we don’t water them down either!” Oh dear. So I stop sipping and figure when I get off I’ll get some food to soak it all up. I end up disembarking with a group of cute, chatty guys and so I walk along with them for awhile until they wander into a loud bar and I wander off. That’s when I start to feel really sick.

I duck into the nearest place, The Key Lime Pie Company and try the bathroom door. It’s locked. And as I go to get the key, I feel I’m not going to make it. It was a messy entry into that bathroom. My body was revolting and I was completely defenseless.

I stumbled out and crossed the street to the steps of the Old City Hall where funnily enough I realize I had planned on going to an author lecture that night. I summon a little smile at that fact. I drop my shoes and crawl up a few more steps and call my friend Peggi. I could definitely use a Leo to talk me down off this ledge, er, step. We brainstorm how I can reel in this disease. She says I need to go back to the emergency room. My phone dies and I just throw it in my bag and sit there, baffled at my situation. Baffled and leaning slightly to the left, I’m thinking. I hear a voice and see a man cautiously approaching me and asking if I’m alright. “I’m not,” I tell him before I can censor myself for a cool first impression and he says he is an Uber driver and he’s going to drive me home, no charge. He helps me gather my things and gets me into the car.

We stop and he gets me a Perrier. We sit outside my camper while I hang my head out his car window, fresh air being the only thing that feels good. He rubs my back and my shoulders and that feels pretty good too. I love the strong hands of a man. I have no energy nor mental faculties to even wonder if he’s safe. Probably because I already wasn’t feeling safe just with myself, within myself. I open the door and throw up. So now I’m one of those girls. At least I made it outside. He offers me some of his medical marijuana and tells me to keep the rest. He says he has anxiety. He also says he’s an officer and I can stay parked there for the night, he’ll make sure no one bothers me.

An angel on so many fronts. A stranger’s kindness in a strange town.

“What made you stop to help me?” I ask as I crawl into my camper.

“I walked by to get a piece of pizza and when I was done, you were still there,” he said, “and your shoes were so far away from you.”

That part still cracks me up. “Your shoes were so far away from you.”

He’s very kissable. I don’t kiss him. And I don’t know why. That’s not really my style, not kissing. I love kissing. And if a guy isn’t a good kisser, then I don’t really go any farther.

And he’s got a piercing just under his bottom lip on the left side that makes his lips even more desirable. I think I’m afraid of what would happen if I closed my eyes. I already feel pretty dizzy.

I’ve got to get better so I can kiss again.