I told her that I would not submit a review.  She is, in fact, well known, well reviewed and one of the most respected sweethearts of the Los Angeles area.  Everyone knows her and loves her and would be thrilled to have a single evening with her.  If she wishes to reveal herself, she will.

My divorce was recently final, still in my grief, I decided to take a much needed vacation.  I wanted sex, sunshine, and solace.  She was out of my league, and the only way I met her was by the luck of the draw over a year ago at an LA meet and greet.  I could not believe it when she agreed to accompany me for an 8 day Caribbean Cruise, neither of us had ever been.  In anticipation of the worst case scenario, I booked the best boat, best activities, and best balcony-suit for the cruise.  We just got back, night before last.  By 7 AM yesterday morning, she had already sent me a thank you e-mail.  In lieu of a review, I think I will post my response to her e-mail which should give you some idea of my experience, her performance, and the respect I have for her.

With all my appreciation:

I put everything away, crashed about 11, and woke up early.  I looked outside at the rain, and, ironic as it seems, that pretty much summed up my mood.  To be honest, I laid back in bed and cried for a little bit.  Mixed feelings, I guess.  Seems like such a sudden halt to a week of fantasy, your energy and presence suddenly withdrawn, a pile of bills and work stacked up, and  the feeling of an uncertain long-term future; a feeling that has lately been unusual and uncomfortable for me in my life.  

Looking back over the week, I picture myself from the balcony of that stateroom looking down at a story-book island in the middle of the ocean as if it were a metaphor for the week out of my life journey.  You touched me, . . . and I feel like I have grown.  You gave me more than I ever expected, or perhaps you will ever know.  You gave me material things.  You gave me the comfort of trusted friendship.  You counseled me when I had little insight.  You challenged me to think. You listened and supported me when I was grieving. You protected me when I was impulsive.  You encouraged me when I was reluctant.  You gave the gift of yourself, without arrogance, without selfishness, without obligation, but with harmony, honesty, and kindness.  It seemed like you were always in touch with my feelings, as well as being comfortable with your own.

I learned so much about you that I would never have dreamed.  I am still awestruck by your musical ear and feel for music.  I cannot help but think it remains a gift not fully appreciated or more fully explored.  Your life experiences have certainly shaped you.  Your core values are your virtues:  Integrity, honesty, kindness, selflessness, generosity, compassion and respect for others.  But you have your peccadilloes too, which  some might consider flaws or imperfections.  But these, I consider the good stuff.  You snore like a chain saw!  Urination following sex is one of your most highly anticipated and erotic sensations.  You are an incorrigible flirt and a tease, especially on the dance floor!

It has truly been my honor and pleasure to have had the opportunity to share a remarkable week with you.  I cannot escape the feeling that you are indeed, out of my league and that I am undeserving of your grace, affection, and attention.  I cannot help but feel vicariously similar to Joe DiMaggio, who despite his image, was in fact not strong enough to be there for an independent woman who was so adored by so many others.  You helped me discover this about myself and I will always be indebted to you for this insight and honesty.  You cannot possibly imagine how this important life lesson has helped me reconcile my grief.  And that is exactly what I needed from this week's journey.

With all my appreciation
Doc Adams