It's eleven P.M. or so as I start the ignition on my fully depreciated car and pull away from my parking space at the Fort Myers Yacht Basin Marina. I'm hungry and somewhat worn out after a long day of riding a bus on down to Key West and later hanging out at a dockside bar for a good part of the afternoon.
I've got tired-head after hearing bikers talk of nothing other than motorcycles at that bar and of later finally boarding the Key West Express catamaran-motor vessel for a four hour sail on up to Fort Myers Beach.
As I drive on past alongside the marina, I see two sailing vessels still tied up in the same slips they were at a month ago... one belongs to so-called Captain Jacobo, the chain-smoking geezer previously described with saggy skin. The other vessel belongs to "Big Dumb F***", the over-sized former corporate hotshot with a crapped-out sailing vessel.
I've got but one thought as I drive on past those two vessels and that is... "Adios MOFOS", to quote a certain corporate-interest governor still in office.
Cleveland Avenue still looks like it did a month ago... depressed with shuttered store -fronts and what-not. I later make a turn to hit the interstate that will take me on down to my evening's destination on Marco Island but not before getting a tank full of gas and going through the late night drive-thru at McDonald's.
I'm revived after wolfing down, (woof!!), a double-patty burger with plastic cheese and fries along with a chocolate milkshake. Well I'll admit that it's not quite plastic because my youngest daughter's fourteen year-old best bud had once explained to me that American pasteurised cheese slices was but one molecule away from being categorized as plastic crap by the FDA.
Her dad also happens to be an experienced chef who knows all about this kind of stuff and because there has got to be a compelling reason for all the morbid obesity wadling about and of all the clogged heart arteries among burger eaters. Nevertheless, I was somewhat famished before stuffing that burger and plastic cheese down my gullet.
My order somehow got screwed up while chatting it up and flirting while on that intercom. I've got an extra single-patty burger in the bag to which I know is a freebie because I checked my receipt.
Just for the record... that slender, young lady and with a fine looking dark complexion who happened to take my window order, was exceedingly attractive and I was only too pleased that all my "dear" and "thank you sweetie" commentary on that intercom didn't go for naught. Damned... that chick was hot!
An hour or so later I found myself on Marco Island. It was a welcomed relief to shower and collapse upon that hard mattress in the guest room.
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