Day 6 -- Vacation, Alas!

Ahhhhh. Vacation finally sets in. After waking and shaking a minor hangover from a night on Duval Street, I had breakfast and made a hasty departure to go snorkel. Jesse had been adamant all the night prior that he was waking up at 7:30 am that morning to find out how we could rent kayaks and where we could snorkel to find lobster. He didn't get up until about 8:30, but still managed to acquire some local knowledge of some places where a few rag tag bastards from Clearwater could snorkel and grab a few bugs. He was the only one that had faith in the idea at that point, but managed to convince all of us it was worth it, so we took the plunge and dove in the clear waters of Key West. His local knowledge led us to Higgs Pier. On the way there we passed by a small Cuban restaurant/grocery that sold fresh coconut water, which is basically served as a coconut with a hole drilled in it with a straw. It was refreshing and apparently quite healthy, especially for a hangover. We each imbibed one and felt charged.

Our arrival at the first pier, not Higgs, was met with my immediate pessimism. There were no rocks or coral heads to be found, just grass flats. Now I'm no expert in lobster hunting, but I do know the little bugs don't just hang out in grass flats. But, seeing as the group was likely growing a bit tired of my pessimism and cynicism, I held my tongue regarding my disbelief in the presence of lobster. I was correct, and we all agreed to take a stab at a pier down the way, which was Higgs, I believe. That proved exciting and somewhat beneficial to our cause. We peaked out at the end of the pier and saw the entire perimeter was lined with rocks and there was plenty of visibility. Several other snorkelers were around, so we grabbed our gear and took the plunge.

As I was wading out, a gentleman was coming in with a few bugs in his bag, which gave me a charge of hope. We squared off and discovered some ourselves. Once we finally netted our first of what we thought to be a legal-sized lobster, we breached and were immediately met by a boat load of Fish and Wildlife Conservation officers. We didn't have a dive flag, which was mandatory, and the one bug we took minutes to lasso was about an inch and a half too small. They schooled us a bit and let us go, but told us our diving day was over for now. I had also grabbed a conch shell which I was going to give as a gift, but there was still a conch inside and I didn't want to face any poaching fines.

I left the water and wandered for a fresh water source to rinse off my gear. I was met by what I thought to be a vagrant who somehow had the key to a city water source. His name was Key West Ray Ray 1956, which sounds more like a screen name than a Christian name. He told us to "fuck the FWC, they're bastards!" He said he gets his lobsters at night, which is illegal, and that last night he'd grabbed twice his legal limit. I gave him a chin flick and a chuckle, along with a few dollars for his time and advice.

From there we decided to down some Cuban food and float in the pool and put down a few beers at our guesthouse, which was set up much like a grotto, or so we thought. After a few hours, I rinsed off and trotted down the road to find an Internet cafe I'd spotted earlier in the day. I was there for about an hour and a half, and a few people came in and out. The only thing that truly sticks out to me about that place is when a pigeon slammed right into the window and it caused a reaction of utter disbelief in the cashier girl making coffee and lattes. I think it threw her for a whirlwind, but I had to shrug it off because trying to gauge the psyche of Key West locals can prove tiring, and often depressing.

Brian and I went out on a mission after the Internet cafe in search of a bar that served Dark and Stormy's, which is dark rum and ginger beer — quite refreshing. Not many bars served them though, but we found a guy who told us to buy some ginger beer at the market across the street and just bring some back, and he'd make us as many as we could drink for half price. His name was Dante, a local boy who, at the age of 17, owned a strip club. We bullshitted with him for many hours and he seemed to enjoy our company over the local riff raff and tourists at the other end of the bar. Our spirits were quite high and it seemed to be infectious to others as we were approached many times.

The bar we were at was directly across the street from the Aqua Club, where we decided to catch a drag show. Upon entering, I was immediately greeted by a 6'7 drag queen with blond curls and a yellow "outfit" that was stretched to its max. She? went straight for a grab at my package, which was intended I reckon to get a rise out of me and the crowd. But I was opposed to the idea of just about anyone handling my "dude piston" so I did a slight brush of the hand and a quick spin, which landed her? hand on Brian's package. She? took a strong fancy to Brian throughout the show, and he tipped her? accordingly to be a good sport during the show.

A very strange random girl approached McQuade, and proceeded to impose awkward conversation and kisses to the neck. He was genuinely offended by her presence and forward nature, so she took to the next, which was Prewitt, where she did the same thing. Prewitt had the sense of mind to realize this poor soul was, in fact, a nut bar, so he told her that he was partially deaf, and pretended not to hear her. That drove her to stand directly in front of me. She did it with a ninja quickness that I'd never seen outside of some cliche romantic comedy with a crazy girl popping up out of nowhere and startling the victim male. I showed a bit of start, and was genuinely mortified at the creepiness of this particular girl's grin. She tried talking to me, but I gave as cold a shoulder as possible and insisted that my romantic interests lie elsewhere. I was two hands on my hips away from telling her to get fucked, but luckily she kept her appendages at bay.

She followed us out of the bar to our next destination, but Brian, being the official spokesman for our group, stepped in front of her path and politely told her to find entertainment elsewhere, that we were chalk full of weirdness and her brand did not sit well in our stomachs. She was a bit too casual about it, and sure enough she wandered into the next bar we entered, which had a topless rodeo competition on display. We were blunt with her at that point and basically pointed her to the exit.

Duval street was dead that night, and I hadn't eaten a thing since lunch. Prewitt and I decided to grab a burger. We sat at a bar and ordered food, but were somehow locked into a conversation with a "local" man and his wife. His name was Jay and he hailed from Detroit, which he seemed to be proud of, I haven't quite figured why. He eventually annoyed the piss out of me with his self-righteous nonsense and arrogant, faux-sophisticated ways that I've come to recognize in some Key West "locals." These "locals" tend to harbor a belief that they've got it figure out, and their mantra is that of "I'm too weird for the main land, so I came here." That bit of bullshit annoys me, because these people aren't weird, their just too scared to be themselves in the general population. These self-labeled "weirdos" were nothing more than cowards in my mind. I find their whole mantra to be a farce. The burger and the conversation did not sit well and I made an immediate departure.

I had to meet up with the rest of the crew at a strip club, which I was rather opposed at the idea to patron such an establishment, as I genuinely recognize the bad idea it usually turns out to be. This club was no different. Luckily I got there in time to save several of our crew members from making silly decisions with precious money. I'll not name names or insist upon who it was, but we all agreed that the club was giving us all the fear and that we had much better prospects awaiting us a few hundred miles away. No reason to fake it with some Russian male order bride.

We made another hasty departure, and decided to crash, recognizing that we had to make a long trek back to Ella and get on our way home. The fear began to rise in all of us.