Adventures of a Singlista: Pirate of the Mediterranean

I want to high-five whoever coined the phrase that “truth is stranger than fiction.” That seems to be the story of my life. So, picture me in beautiful Monte Carlo, playground of the rich and famous. I’m all decked out ready to do a few tourist things. First up, tour the Royal “Apartments” (which is a compound that looks more like a mansion) where the royalty of Monaco, such as Prince Albert, Princess Grace and Prince Rainier have lived. Next on the agenda, have a glass of champagne at Cafe de Paris. After that, I’m going to hit the shops and do a little damage, since the only thing I’ve bought on the trip of any significance thus far is my 19-inch external monitor to hook up to my broken laptop. I woke up this morning and my eye was itching like crazy. I’m cursing my adult onset allergies which seem to have taken over my life in recent months. I get dressed, grab a few tissues and head to the little boat which ferries us to shore. Once I get to shore, my eye starts running so badly, people think I’m crying. “Are you okay?” everyone asks. “Yes, I think it’s just allergies, I’m fine.” We proceed to walk around and my eye is on fire, it’s red and still running, which is causing my nose to run. By this time, I look and feel a hot mess. First my monitor breaks on my new laptop and now this. A sista can’t catch a break! I’m convinced it’s allergies, so I head to the pharmacy to buy some allergy drops. My French is butchered at best and I’m too tired to even try. I look like I’m playing charades with the pharmacist as I point to my eye and tilt my head back trying to describe that I need eyedrops for allergies.The pharmacist looks at me and mumbles something to her friend like, “Ugh these Americans make me sick with their non-French speaking selves.” I’m thinking “I’ve got your number Miss Lady” and start speaking to her in Spanish (I’m hardly fluent but she’s not going to stereotype me). Then I start to motion and scratch my eye. I give her 8 euros for my eyedrops and high tail it out of there, but not before I say “Merci, bonjour.” Ha ha, Madame, see, I do speak some French! I tour the Royal Apartments doubled over in pain. My friend grabs me and takes me back to the ferry to catch our boat. On the boat, I make a beeline for the doctor. Of course, he is not in, surely he’s lunching at Cafe de Paris where I’m supposed to be. Hmmph, I think, but the nurse gives me eyedrops and I retreat to my cabin to sleep until the doctor returns. As is par for my course, I have a scratched cornea and the doctor patches my right eye. This brings back visions of childhood when my brothers tormented with Cap’n Bligh jokes because I wore a patch over my right eye in an attempt to strengthen the weaker left eye. Luckily, these days I’m not so easily traumatized by much of anything. My friend calls my cabin to check in on me. She asks if I’m staying in. “Nope, we’re still meeting for dinner if you don’t mind rolling with a pirate.” I throw on a cute little skirt, a halter top and some Jimmy Choo wedges and head for Monte Carlo. I’m getting it in tonight, patch or no patch! It seems as if I know all the people on the ship and everyone asks if I’m okay. How sweet! “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” As soon as I get off the ferry, an obnoxious American walks by and says “Grrr… mate! You look like a *#@+ pirate!” I looked at this fool with a blank stare and said “That’s very original, jack” and kept on stepping. I clearly see why the French sneer at we Americans. My new friend and I stroll past the Grand Casino, high rollers everywhere, not to mention a lot of fine men. I’m strolling by and some guys start blowing kisses, got a few winks and a few women even smiled. Feeling good, we carefully descend the stairs, and went to one of the newest restaurants in Monaco. My friend goes in and asks for a table for two and the hostess tells her we can’t get seated for another 90 minutes. Let me try, I thought. I carefully trod up the stairs and ask her in the nicest way how long the wait is. She tells me, in her cute French accent, “We’re booked for a while, but for you Madame, wait about 5 minutes and we’ll seat you.” I slip her 20 euro and smile while thinking, “Membership has its privileges.” After dinner, I finally make it to Cafe de Paris for that glass of champagne, toured the Grand Casino and had a wonderful evening in Monte Carlo like I knew I would. This morning my eye is getting better, and the doctor says I can remove my patch if I continue my eyedrops. I’m thanking God for various reasons, the least of which is I’m typing today’s blog, like yesterday’s, on a 2×2 inch Blackberry screen; it’s easier to type and proof much. I wanted to leave my last blog like it was — errors and all — because there’s only so much I can do looking like a pirate. The moral of the story is: Do you and don’t worry about what people say, remember to thank God, and laugh at yourself along the way. (Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to rhyme). Next stop Cannes and Nice! Until then… xoxo!   Lisa Bonner is the owner of Bonner Law, PC a boutique entertainment law firm with offices in New York City.