I've traced knowing of Tommy’s existence to maybe 2005. Our club coach used to have the boy's team help out with coaching in the summers; drills, scrimmages, whatever. Why this was ever allowed is beyond me. Tommy was recognized as the hottest of the bunch in a landslide victory amongst an unsympathetic panel of 14-16 year old year old water polo brats, and one fine day, I was afforded the absolute honor of guarding him for maybe 8 seconds.
Fast forward to my sister's wedding 7 years ago, Tommy resurfaces as he and Jeremy are longtime friends. He makes out with one of Whitney’s roommates. It is the talk of the wedding. We keep loose tabs over the years.
During the travel research and development phase of this portion of … my life, Tommy makes a visit to Whit's house to meet baby Caden. He's also conveniently taking a break from work in hostage negotiation and travel security, on a nearly identical timeline. A casual recommendation of “good places for Taylor to go” on his part escalates to a blown out itinerary and pro-bono security briefing. It's a simple email, but it's very well done. Seeing my in, I proceed to take complete advantage. Texts, emails, calls - things I should have just Googled. One day I just text him the word “elephants.” He's very patient. Despite all this - with Tommy, there is always an answer, and always a good one.
During one of these frivolous Bali conversations, I make casual mention of an open invitation. You know, “If it were to work out…"
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“Woke up feeling sick, but pretty sure I sweat it out on the flight.” He'll land in Denpasar in 4 hours, but not after creating his own strain of coronavirus trailing a full-send trip to the snow and 2 months solid of international travel. “But hey, at least you can shut the door when you are in business class.” The desire to punch him with every mention of his Delta Status will only compound over the coming weeks. I am proud to report I will not contract the virus.
Traveling with someone you do not know is not as treacherous as it sounds, especially when that person is ex-military and travel expert. For the next 3 weeks, I turn the survival part of my brain completely off. We are both on very good behavior (I'll crack first) because there is no true familiarity yet and this is one giant human dynamics experiment we probably should have had a camera crew following. Hunger, heat and bad directions will challenge all of this. We discuss personality types before as some sort of insurance - I'm highly individualistic, he's a natural peacemaker. This makes us scientifically compatible for travel so the motion is approved. We have a hell of a time (albeit vvvv relaxed and regenerative) and are still very much on speaking terms - but mostly corona memes and updates of him babysitting.
The downsides to Tommy are simple. He needs "feedings" every 2 hours, and his face is too symmetrical. Also, as previously mentioned, he won’t shut the hell up about his airline status. He can sleep anywhere (upside?) which makes me incredibly jealous (downside).
Tommy is easy to be around. We talk about more stuff than he has or ever wants to talk about again in his life, but I appreciate the patience and general open mindedness - but this is my vacation too so he can deal. Again, he shoulders the weight that comes with international travel - safety, driving, sobriety. It is fabulous. He lets me DJ (90% pop music), and watches whatever I'm watching (Fleabag, Whose Dog is This?, Staying Alive - truly, I thought it was a disco movie but it’s not. I still feel pretty bad about this.) He also tolerates bug world scenarios and isn’t too cool to sleep with beach towels on, but also throws down for a Singapore luxe accomms that REVIVE YOU and then ALMOST KILL YOU (post to follow). Tommy also knows what he is talking about, and there are a few scenarios where I’m truly truly thankful he is with me - primarily around customs situations, also when I need help with my luggage or feel like I might die from health issues (I leverage these trying times to fall asleep on him).
Tommy also puts up with my shit, which if you know me, you know I have my laundry list.
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We start in Canggu, Tommy's old stomping grounds. He lived out here 5 years ago and has a solid foundation of the place, basic scooter function skills, and some friends out here. Yes, one of the initial recommendations to come here came from him. We hook in.
Mornings I get out - run, surf, work out classes. He is on death's door so he sleeps a lot. We are regulars at Deus Ex Machina for iced coconut cold brews, California breakfast burritos and haircuts. Think of Deus as a Johnny Cash-loving, customized motorcycle and surfboard shop meets bar and restaurant, with live rock and roll and a tattooing scene. It's a compound. Plus barbershop.
Afternoons we are primarily at Leroy’s for the 90’s hip-hop Vietnamese fix thats so bomb you can’t believe it. We get nearly the same thing every time - spicy chicken noodles, tofu bao, summer rolls with chewy sweet fried pork strips. At La Brisa, we keep a running tab open for daily surf-watch office hours - grab a coconut, Coca Colas or Redbulls for him which are disgusting and I hate to even write it. Tommy will try going to Brisa in secrecy while I'm working one day and come back absolutely fried and try lying about how it must have been during his 10 minutes in the sun while we caught up later by the pool. He will never recover, nor does he deserve to. We survive the Canggu shortcut, retail a bunch (my wardrobe gradations entirely to warm reds, hot pinks, and leopard print) and we get see lots of dogs though. LOTS OF DOGS!!!!!
Evenings start at sunset. Like Costa Rica, it's church. People come out of the woodworks, there is noticeable traffic and parking lots charge. During one sunset, when the drones really come out to play, I reveal a long standing fantasy of mine to see one of these puppies go down. It's not an ill wish - I’m not offended by them so much - but I do love that one Youtube video of the Sky Dancer going into the fire on Christmas morning, and I think it would be thrilling to experience the adult equivalent firsthand. Offended by its accuracy, Tommy describes in detail the time he got a beautiful new drone that had just come with him to Iceland. It took incredible photos and he was confident with the controls, so Tommy decided to take it out with some friends on the water. While capturing epic B roll of the squad boat partying - I imagine people laughing, cheersing, shot gunning beers - mid flight, the device clips the tower of their boat and flips itself midair. Tommy's attempt to bring it skyward does just the opposite, and he watches in horror as the drone propels itself into the dark depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. I am wiping away tears.
Sunsets are for espresso martinis, which remind me of Balboa Cafe and MY FRIENDS and SAN FRANCISCO, except these are 2 for $3. Over these ceremonial tini's at Othree is the first time I meet Becca. She’s a long time friend of Tommy’s and lived out here for a few months. Honey blonde, bronzed, and in a ruched tissue tube top 100% of the time I see her, she represents California in the most outstanding way. She dishes about the dating scene - from running into a Hinge match while surfing a blue foam top rental, “Still on the rails, huh!," to taking a chance on an Aussie lifeguard for a month over there ("no bathroom door, you guys….”), and how tans and international love interests (“SPANISH”) change the way you areeee. She also tells an epic story of bending the truth to some new friends about her age, staying close with them longer than she ever anticipated, and then having to downplay a milestone birthday that they are making a big deal about but has actually already passed. She takes us to Pretty Poison and Black Cat Mini Mart and we agree to join forces when Tommy heads home. Tommy consents.
Evenings are easy. It's mostly feeding Tommy and drinking beers outside. We talk to strangers, kiss them on mouths (I’m sorry), and see a celebrity every time we go to The Back Room. When evenings wrap, I'm way more fun to have on the bike - we run into Luigi’s with helmets on and take to-go pizzas back. There's a moment where we are buzzing through a rice field and I have one hand with a pizza box tucked into my hip, and one keeping my balance on Tommy and we are sooo so so in the swing of Bali. We almost always pop our head over the wall of Pretty Poison on our way back home and scale it if it's lit.
It is this particular evening that I'll wake Tommy up from a sleeping for a quick diagnosis of why my mouth has swollen to twice. He tells me I “look like a housewife,” and we speculate that I have either an allergic reaction to the peanut sauce at Leroy’s or a bug bite on my lip and will literally never know which.
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Ubud is a toughy. You can tell by the size of this section alone. As much as Josée loves it is as much as Tommy hates it - especially considering we accidentally went during a major holiday and most spots were shut down and we have to rough it at the Four Seasons for the day. One day we see the waterfalls and I get a pass when it rains and we stay in and watch TV.
I don't particularly want to, but have to touch on the evening Tommy has to pretend to be my fiance. This trails the story of the a bold face lie my mother told a few weeks earlier.
I had called a martini night when we first arrived, starting at Naughty Nuri's for the "best martini's in Bali." What I'm expecting is a low lit, modern, martini bar. What we get is a spitfire barbeque with flourescent lighting streaking through smoke and cigarettes for sale at the cash register. I couldn't love it more. They shake your martini at your table, pour it, and make you slug it - crisp and with ice chips - so they can top it off for you then and there. I take mine down, I think Tommy has a beer. We all know where this is going. We wrap and head down the road (I do this walk with Emma and it is FAR. I had… not realized.) and I am feeling bold enough to roll the dice and show Tommy this great bar where the cocktails are named after albums, and the bar plays said albums when you order. But - there might be someone in there who is a bit of a creep and who thinks you…… are my fiance. This is one of those things my brain has blocked out the details of but I remember Tommy doin' real good with it, me inhaling a martini with too much vermouth in it to dull this entire situation, and also our driver coming to save us.
The next morning we go on a hunt for my dog by tracing the steps I took with my mom, and trying to do all the same things to recreate the environment he knows (I'm wearing the same outfit so he recognizes me) - with no luck. Tommy says he must be locked up for the holiday. I am devastated. The next day, we are leaving a yoga class I'm trying to put Tommy in but he won't take it - it focuses on "chanting" and he wants "handstands." I look to my right and see my dog, Tony, smiling at me from a gutter. A gutter! Happier than a pig in shit. I love him.
On our last evening I will barf in the shower and let me tell you it is rough. We go back to Canggu to do the better stuff.
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Uluwatu is the final leg of the tour that we hit after returning from Singapore. It's honestly a bizarre time because I had not done the math for how much time Tommy had left in Bali, and thought it was somewhere around 10 days but it was actually just 4. I have a misdirected mini meltdown at a taqueria about them getting my taco-shell order wrong, but it is actually just about this the whole time (sorry!). I realize I have not accounted for the appropriate amount of time to make my case for a Tommy-Bali-extension and have to consolidate my argument into 4 days which is not the right thing to do. It was never the right thing to do.
Uluwatu is when we get back to physical activity, which was needed and helps with mental state across the board. The open air Bali Training Center is an absolute godsend, with open gym hours and HIIT classes with 60 of the most beautiful people and their pheromones swirling around you. Everyone is so international, so tan, and probably so plant-based. I overhear some drama at the front desk and would have loved to stay longer to watch some narratives unfold, but such is life. The work outs there make you think you will die, and I refuse to partner with Tommy for them as I'm not trying to go toe to toe with someone in the military and die prematurely. Before and after we lounge at Cashew Tree, pounding protein date shakes and glowing in accomplishment and endorphins.
We have beach time, Single Fin sunset time, and Suka time for the best carrot cake of your life. We have two slices as appetizers, and I come to terms with maybe liking the 2 hour feedings after all. As we get more comfortable we will definitely be walking around with our scooter helmets on indoors and acknowledging each other by throwing up a shaka. We have red suit conventions on secret patios at Ulu Cliffhouse. We meet up with Tommy's Aussie friends and I will never not be impressed by literally anyone from this great nation. They are so laid back, clever, warm, and will be as fine having 7 drinks with you in one sitting as they are as having 1 and going to bed at 8:30. Tommy does not know, but I am secretly working on an exchange program with them where I go there and they come here and live with my parents.
On our last evening, I get 15 bug bites over a 5 minute period and decide I'm gonna pick a fight with Tommy about it so he knows how unhappy about it I am and how unfair the world is. You guys, truly, everyone should have to write summaries about their lives because you realize WHAT A HORROR YOU ARE TO DEAL WITH. I excuse myself from the psuedo tantrum, go get us seats to watch sunset, and reset myself with a cocktail (this works, sadly). With a now rational audience, Tommy addresses the efforts on the extension front with a stream of consciousness about the gift of figuring out what you want out of life and only you can do that for you. He did it on his trip out here and wants the same for me. I'm impressed and in agreement with what he has to say. Also - Tommy can talk this much?
Agus and I drop him at the airport the next day, before heading up the mountain back to Ubud to meet with Emma. I strip Tommy of all his cash, as every good woman does, hug him goodbye and we peel off. Just like that. When Agus asks me from the front seat if I had fun traveling with Tommy, we sit in silence for about 15 seconds while I decide how hard I'm gonna cry. It's horrible but necessary. I unload almost the entirety of the story above, which funny enough, Agus has been around for while driving us to and from places. He gets it. I appreciate him transitioning me through the chapter change and give him 50,000 rupiah for the therapy. By the time he brings Emma to me he says I "look better." ???
Tommy continues to check in, as I do with him. It's mostly the aforementioned corona travel memes but also news articles and travel protocol updates and the kind of safety stuff that Tommy can't really turn off. I appreciate it all.
When shit really starts to hit the fan a few weeks later in the international travel ban department, and I'm fielding calls from friends and family saying "get home now," it's actually Tommy who I give the final say. It's very simple. "Just step back and think about it." I'll scrap everything and leave on a flight a few hours later.
Tommy - my Prince of Peace. Thanks for joining.