The one above us had a group of 4 college-aged women on vacation. We often heard them talking out on the balcony. They didn't bother us, we just noticed who the upstairs neighbors were.
Anyway, one day my Dad and I were sitting outside, and we heard 2 of them upstairs, talking about some postcards they were sending back home. Suddenly, there was a huge gust of wind. The newspaper Dad was reading blew over the edge, and we saw some papers from the girls above get scattered into the air. We both went inside.
A few minutes later I went out (I'd left my Diet Coke on the table) and discovered a postcard had blown onto our balcony. It featured a picture of a large, muscular, young Polynesian guy, wearing nothing but a strategically placed banana leaf. The reverse side had an address on it, but nothing else. Someone (we assume one of the girls) had obviously started writing the card when it blew away.
I went inside, and absently tossed it on the table. I figured I'd run it up to the girls later (hell, maybe I'd get to meet them). Dad picked it up, looked it over, and then told me to go down to the gift shop and buy a postcard stamp.
When I got back he'd already filled it out. He took it to the front desk, asked them to make a photocopy, then put the stamp on and tossed it in the outgoing mailbox.
Here it is.
For those of you who can't read Dad's handwriting, it says
We are having a wonderful time and are glad you're not here. Yesterday we all went swimming at the beach. We had to leave early, though, because "you know who" was killed by a shark. But we won't let a little thing like that ruin our vacation.
This guy on the card came up to us waving his dong. But this is considered hospitality by the locals. After about 2 hours of it we told him to leave, though.
See you soon,
All of us
So, if in 1989 your last name was Gillin, Scott, Alperstein, or Glantz, and you lived at that address, OR if you were their friends who returned home and were shocked that someone had actually filled out and mailed your postcard...
Now you know. It was my Dad.
And I still think that was brilliant.