We have been in Jamaica since Thursday morning. Our neighbor’s “Shhhh” sign has been up the entire time.
I think my neighbor is dead.
We mentioned it to the housekeeper yesterday.
“Their Do Not Disturb sign has been up for days,” I commented as we were entering our room.
“I know,” the housekeeper replied, laughing carelessly, as these Jamaicans do. They are all so happy, so nice.
“Maybe they’re dead,” I said.
She laughed again.
“I’ll let you know if it starts to smell,” my husband added.
It’s Sunday morning. The sign is still up. Why come to Jamaica if you aren’t going to leave your room? Should we call 119? That’s the police number down here mon. Seriously.
I think our neighbors are dead.
Ok. We’re going down to the beach to catch our final rays, to listen to “No Woman No Cry” and “I Shot the Sheriff” and “One Love” one last time. If the sign still says “Shhhh” when we sign out I promise to tell the Concierge. I will not leave Jamaica without reporting a potential death (or maybe even a murder). Ya mon.