It had all begun months ago, building from a small spark into a raging inferno. The outburst in the staff meeting only verified the culmination of my frustrations; whereas unwittingly, I had single-handedly undermined the confidence of our most trusted customer. The CEO called me into his office early the next morning and threw a round-trip ticket to Mazatlán across his desk with two options.

The first option was to pack only the clothes I’d needed and get my life back together under the warm tropical sun. The second was to pack my personal effects in the office and not return. With little forethought, I opted for the first option and hurried to my newly rented apartment to pack for the afternoon flight. It had just started to rain as the jet poked through the clouds into the clear blue.

Several months earlier, my divorce was finalized, and the companion I dreamed of sharing my life with strolled out of my life to begin anew with the executive VP of her negotiating firm. What had begun as a caring, supportive relationship soon became bogged down in material gain and personal prestige.

While I had continued to climb the lofty corporate ladder, my wife began her own upward ascent away from us. The settlement left me stripped of everything but an old T-Bird I was trying to restore, and my retirement intact while she walked away with a lifetime of mutually earned toys. Her attorney was good, and I was just too damn hurt to offer much resistance. With little more than memories and shattered dreams, I was alone again.

The plane landed outside of the city on a poorly maintained field surrounded by scrub bushes and agonizing heat. The overpriced taxi ride to town was an exercise in harm avoidance, from the crazy opposing drivers to the open-air cab that threatened to throw me out on every turn. The beachfront hotel was accommodating and the sights and smells tantalizing, but not enough for me to leave the air-conditioned comfort of my room and the twenty channels the local cable company offered.

I bought a bottle of one of the local wines and proceeded to drown my sorrows into oblivion despite the constant report of car horns and maxed-out car stereos blasting ranchero music. Lost in self-denial and pity, I tried to analyze my options. Should I forget the office that bound me to the city and move closer to the consolation of my family living near the East Coast? Everything became too blurred to early, and I fell asleep as the sun dropped over the horizon with a fiery red glow.

The evening had fallen into night time, accompanied by blaring music and loud partying from the surrounding hotel rooms, making sleep impossible to all but the deaf. Staggering into the hallway, I straightened my shirt and wandered to the elevator, bumping into one of the local employees delivering a tray of multicolored drinks to any one of a hundred different parties within the confines of the hotel.

I jabbed the button for the lobby and descended noisily from the third floor, as the humid air swirled around me unmercifully, almost taking my breath away. After several frustrating endeavors, I finally found my way into the bustling lounge and ordered one of the local overpriced concoctions while silently debating what it would cost to return to the rain and my apartment on the morrow.

One of the local call girls slid next to me and tried to start a conversation, but with no working knowledge of the local dialect, I could only smile and walk away in search of a quiet alcove to fulfill the “sorting out” process that would finally lead to closure and a new outlook on the lifestyle I was hoping to rebuild.

That is when it hit - I was surrounded by beautifully tanned, dark-eyed, silky-legged potential escorts; naive in the ways of my world, but savvy in the bedroom. It was a virtually bedding paradise, and I had been too caught up in myself to realize the multitude of opportunities that awaited with only the minimal coercion and cash outlay. It had been some time since the comfort of a woman’s charms had relieved my frustrations, and with my stress levels bordering on overload, a good lay might just be the much-needed elixir.

Gazing through the shadows while the band took the stage, I spied a young, lovely in a one-piece outfit that accented her shapely hips and small breasts. Moving to her table quickly, I gestured towards my glass and pointed to her. She looked me over carefully, studying my face intently for several moments before nodding at the empty seat across from her. Signaling the bar, a drink arrived almost instantly as five dollars were swept from the table.

I tried to learn her name or anything about her, but she only smiled a distant smile, almost looking through me as if disenchanted by my presence. The band sprang to life with an ear-shattering discord, and began chanting a horrible rendition of Elvis, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the results of their collective efforts. Turning to the dark-haired beauty, I could tell that she was not very pleased by the noise, so I rose to make a discreet exit, patting her arm gently in understanding. So many women, so little time.