Not that we’re meanies or anything, but it’s just so obvious what a man is up to and having seen many, many, many “relationships” go down the tubes, it’s not hard to resist and say no.

    How many times have we seen these same men (if you should call them that), the ones who one night are whispering in your ear how much they like you, and would love to get to know you better, such a pity you’re not down here for longer, and god will they miss you when you leave…and when was that again? Oh, tomorrow? They probably can milk out a couple of crocodile tears for you and say that their lives will never be the same again.

    Yeah. Of course it will never be the same again. They have another notch on their belt. They probably compare notes. Or not; who knows, they might be very territorial. Oh please.

    Those same guys will accompany you to the airline of choice, and hold you and tell you how much they will miss you. While you make promises, and think to yourself that if you work x amount of hours extra a week, you can soon wrangle a few weeks off and head back down to paradise. Back to your Belizean man.

    You know what happens when you board that flight? While you wave like a maniac through your window, with tears streaming down your face?

    That same guy who just pledged his love for you and claimed he would wait for you is at that very moment, sitting down in the chairs, waiting to see which hottie gets off the plane that just landed.

    The line is cast, “how you doing sweetheart?” The shy newcomer doesn’t quite know what to say or how to react. “I’m ‘XYZ’, where you from? First time here? You staying long on the island? I know a couple places and definitely some people I could recommend. I can help you have a good time mon.” (oh please, we’re not in Jamaica!)

    Shy Newcomer thinks to self, “well, he seems nice, and what an open friendly face. And isn’t that what this trip is about? Immersing oneself in the culture?”

    (Oh. Dear.)

    She nods, smiles and says, “Well, maybe we can meet up sometime during my stay. I am staying at so and so hotel, and would love to check out the place with a local guide.”

    Hook, line, sinker. And he’s back in business.

    Yes, I saw that happen, I am not making that up. It was quite the spectacle, and I thanked myself for being such a shameless people-watcher. I saw and made a mental note to someday, let the world know. And again, as sad as it is to see these things happen, it has to be said that studies have shown that many singles particularly enjoy heading down to the Caribbean for a bit of a fling. A fling is fine. Someone who reads this column recommends the full body condom (ha). Being careful and knowing what you’re getting into is fine. No-one judges you on that. As in all relationships and life experiences, flings are just par for the course. It’s when you get into something and actually expect something bigger to come out of it that you run into trouble. Your boat runs into the reef, per se. Not pretty, not fun; especially if you made the mistake of misjudging who you’re thinking of building a future with.