I spent more than eight years involved with Miss Headcase, and not many of them were positive. This fact is just testament to both my perserverence and stupidity. She had her problems and we’ll get into some of that later, but for now the first trip we took together was one for the books. It was to Newport, Rhode Island. The first thing I remember — and it’s absurd — is that we both just bought new sneakers and it was pouring rain. We walked around with plastic bags on our feet.

I remember that I took Friday off and we headed down early in the morning. We had reservations at a place called Cliff House, a really beautiful bed & breakfast run by two elderly lesbians. They were really so sweet, and the place just had so many twists and turns, like a hidden staircase. On the very top floor, there was a common kitchen where you could cook dinner if you preferred staying in. We did that the first night we were there. You could climb out to a balcony through a window in the kitchen. The view was just unbelievable.  I can’t find the place anymore. I’m sure it’s under new ownership but I really cannot seem to match the memory to anything I can find on the web. It’s been a long time. The place was called Cliff House because it was right near Cliff Walk, of course, a beautiful mile-long walk overlooking the Atlantic. This was a walk you should not miss even in the dreary weather. We held off until the second day.

The second day, Saturday, was the best. We got up early and ate breakfast at the inn, then we walked downtown for a while and visited the shops. We had lunch at the Brick Alley Pub (and this place is still there). Then we headed toward Bellevue street and toured the International Tennis Hall of Fame. We went to a few of the mansions, the most opulent and absurd was The Breakers, the summer home of the Vanderbilts. The place had hot and cold running sea water or fresh water for the baths. I think it had something like 70 rooms, and it was a summer home only. That’s fucking crazy. I can’t remember where we had dinner that night. It could have been La Forge Casino on Bellevue. That restaurant would be a favorite of ours and it would figure in a later trip to Newport. Just wait for that one. We were driving back  on Sunday, so we were in early Saturday night. The funniest thing happened Sunday morning.

Sunday was just beautiful. The sun had returned on Saturday, but Sunday was really bright. The night before, the place was buzzing because two people from Rolling Stone magazine had checked in. The guy was pretty notable, but I cannot remember who it was all these years later. All I know is that it wasn’t the sun that woke us up that morning. Apparently, the two writers from Rolling Stone had spent the night together — in a room right next to ours, and now they were engaged in wanton sex.

They were so loud it was hysterical. We could hear everything they were yelling. They were moaning; she was shrieking. We were laughing so hard we had to put the pillows over our faces. This went on for what seemed like hours and we just couldn’t move. Every time we thought it was over and we stopped roaring, they’d start up again. I mean, wtf were they thinking? This was a b & b. The place was old. The walls were thin. I’m willing to bet the whole freakin’ place heard them. I could imagine the entire place with people hiding their faces under their pillows that morning, just roaring laughing.

We wanted to head back early on Sunday because I had to be back at work early Monday morning. Our last visit was to Brenton Point State Park and a trip down Ocean Drive where people hang out and fly kites all day in the summer. The International Kite Festival is held there in July. The colors and images are just beautiful. It was a great ride that morning with the sun so bright. After that, we headed back to Boston.

That was the first time Miss Headcase and I went away together. The relationship was new; things were great. It was very romantic and a wonderful time. There was absolutely no hint of things that would to come several years later.