Gully Wash and Johnny Cakes

On this day in 1985, the headline in the Miami Herald editorial section ran as follows,

                Tallahassee, the Drunkest City  

                                  in Florida

Tallahassee has the lowest employment rate in Florida because residents are often too hungover to go to work. Many Talhasseeans are depressed, feeling they have nothing to live for. When Rico, who was drowning his troubles in a local bar was asked the why of it? He said, 

Miami has a football and basketball team and we don’t. We live a few miles from Georgia so we follow the Atlanta teams. Over the years Tallahasseeans have lost their identities, adrift somewhere between Florida and Georgia, so we drink. 

It’s noon in happy town, Key West! Henry, Lucia, and Summer sip expresso on the front porch of their 3 bedroom bungalow as the Chihuahuas and Pedro the Woodpecker play outside. The phone rings, Henry runs inside, it’s Dave Spleen, speed freak and editor of HEADBANGER Magazine, published in the Big Apple. 

Dude, man, last week’s story, What Flavor are You? A total bust, and it’s no wonder. A story on the taste of vaginal discharge and semen? What were you thinking when you wrote it? At a loss, he answers, 

Dave, I wasn’t thinking, I write from my soul. Dave realizing he can’t change him,

OK, Henry, you’re the artist, just clean it up some, gotta go, got a deadline to meet!

At the heart of it, Dave wanted to get as many magazines on the streets and in reader's hands as possible, which translated into greater revenue. If a piece on the taste of sexual discharge attracted readers, he'd let it float. 

It's a slow Thursday afternoon and the temperature is a perfect 68 degrees.  Summer Wynd is on the run from the New York City Ballet, where she had danced for the last 10 years. On Monday she'd begin a new job at The Martha Graham Dance Academy in Key West. 

As they finish their expressos, Henry suggests they take off for the weekend,

Whataya say we go to the Bahamas? We can drive to Miami and catch a ferry to Nassau. Lucia wondering, 

what about the babies? Henry like Ike planning D-Day,  

let’s get cracken, Summer call a pet sitter, Lucia book 3 tickets for the 10 AM ferry to Nassau, we’ll get up at 6 and drive to Miami! Lucia smiling, 

si, el comandante! 

The tribe stays home Thursday night, ordering pizza, the Chis love it, but Pedro the woodpecker wouldn't touch it, so Lucia gives him a bowl of sunflower seeds, which he opens meticulously with his powerful beak to get at the tasty inner pulp.  

Nibbling on pizza and drinking beer, they watch the 1966 film, The Wild Angels, made exclusively for drive-in theaters. Peter Fonda plays the president of The Wild Angels, his handle is Heavenly Blues, a simple-minded name that makes one wonder what his friends called him? Heaven, Heavy, Blues? Nancy Sinatra plays his girlfriend and her name is even more dimwitted than her boyfriend's, Monkey. 

The screenplay was written on the fly by Peter Bogdonavich, who overdosed on evil-pills during filming.

The opening scene was shot with a dirty lens, creating a muddy backdrop contrasting Blue's metallic and chrome chopper as he burns rubber on his way out of Venice Beach. 

Blue’s first order of business is to visit his pal, Loser, played by Bruce Dern, to tell him his stolen chopper has been found in Watts. Loser’s coworkers in the body shop don’t like Blue’s long hair so the man-babies threaten to quit if Loser isn’t fired, the boss tired of listening to the man-babies moan fires him. 

Then the fun begins, Loser and Blue have a run-in with the man, which figures because The Wild Angel’s credo is, 

We wanna be free to ride our machines without being hassled by the man! And we wanna get loaded! And have a good time! And that’s what we’re gonna do!

Anyway, Loser is shot dead by the man. In a few days, The Wild Angels show at his church funeral and the gang, hyped on bennies, turn the God faring scene into a carnival of rape and butt-kicking. 

Blue knocks his old lady Monkey out and has sex with another woman behind a pew. Then, the party animals pummel the priest and tie him up, exchanging the bound clergyman for Loser in the coffin. 

If that wasn’t enough, Dear John and Frankenstein rape Loser’s wife who is flipping the bill for the service as the rest of the gang strap Loser's lifeless body with rope and hang it on the church crucifix. 

The mock crucifixion is a don't tread on us declaration to the man reeking of messianic suggestion.   

During the 10 minute scene, The Wild Angels break every taboo imaginable and invent a few of their own. 

Lucia tiring of the barbarism gets up and turns the TV off, saying, 

I love, love, I love making love, I love fucking! But, Rape is repugnante! Fidel would have thrown el estúpidos burros who made The Wild Angels in the hole to rot. Henry defending  artistic license,  

in America artists are free to create, some of their work is good and some bad, Summer what-a you think? She yawns, 

the goofy flick was made before I was born, gotta agree with Lucia, I like romantic films, anyway, night darlings! 

The tribe wakes at 6 AM, packing lightly, shorts, swimsuits, t-shirts, and flip flops. They get in Henry's 1974 Chevy Malibu Station Wagon and he wheels the big car through Key West, heading north on Highway 1.

Feeling woolly-headed, Lucia and Summer roll the car windows down, thinking the tepid sea air will wake them. After driving a while Henry pulls off the highway at Layton, Florida, going to Dunkin Donuts and parking. Summer walks inside and orders a dozen donuts and 3 large coffees with cream.

They eat as Henry drives, sipping coffee and munching a 1000 calories of fried fat apiece. Lucia rolls a joint as Summer who is sitting between them puts a cassette in the tape player, ZZ Top, Eliminator. 

Sharp Dressed Man blares through the aftermarket speakers, including a woofer under the front seat which vibrates so much that both girl's panties are soaking wet as Henry wheels the wagon into the Port of Miami and parks. 

Lucia pays 60 dollars for 3 reserved seats on the ferry to Nassau. In need of a drink, they go straight to the lounge, grabbing a table, ordering a pitcher of rum punch. As the ferry reaches Potter Cay port, the tribe is half in the bag. 

They quickly get through customs, luckily, Lucia’s Cuban passport is valid, she lives in the US as an illegal alien, heedless of the consequences. Henry's no better, he hadn’t filed a tax return in 10 years. They believed mentally blocking out thoughts of the IRS and ICE sheathed them in a protective aura, the voodoo would work until they got busted.

Anyway, they get in a taxi at Nassau International Airport, Summer telling the driver, an older black man in a flowered shirt, 

take us to a funky place downtown that’s old and full of color. 

In 20 minutes they are at Miss Emily’s Goombay Inn, a mid-city oasis consisting of 12 rainbow-colored wooden bungalows surrounding a small jungled park, each with a hot tub, a bamboo deck and wall.

The tribe walks into the front office, they are greeted by Miss Emily, a grandmotherly Bahamian woman with grey dreadlocks wearing a pink muumuu, smiling widely saying,

What da wybe is? Local Bahamian for, what’s up? Lucia saying, 

we’d like a room for 3 for 2 nights, Miss Emily gets down to business, 

that’ll be 70 US dollars, will you need a cot for your cousin? Or, are you all going to love together? Lucia laughs as she passes the biscuits and says, 

you're spot on sista!  

They walk into the small jungle, passing voodoo shrines on the way to Bungalow 9. The room is full of painted blue furniture and potted plants.

There's a sliding glass door at the back of the bungalow that leads to the deck where the hot tub is. Lucia, liking it, 

es maravilloso, we'll walk the city, party, then sexo en el bañera!

At night Nassau’s streets run native with smells of sea air, conch barbecuing on grills and the sounds of Junkanoo music blaring.

After prowling the wilds of the funky city, the tribe's hungry, they walk into Curly’s Tavern and sit at a table. The joint is unremarkable, mobbed with people and there's a tonic aroma of cooking food in the air. 

A sizzling Bahamian girl with blond hair styled in a Teeny Weeny Afro brings menus, Summer hands her the tribe’s bungalow key and says, 

You’re so, so ravishing! You must be exhausted darling, after work join us for a drink and a spin in the hot tub at Miss Emily’s! The model lovely black chic smiles mischievously,  

see you there, I get off at midnight. Henry with a lumpish grin on his face butts in, 

wonderful, you're busy so we should order, a pitcher of Gully Wash, conch salad, Jerk chicken, Bahamian fish stew, Pigeon peas with rice and some Johnny Cakes. 

The pitchers of Gully Wash came fast but the Bahamian fare takes time to stew, as good food should. On their 3rd pitcher of Gully Wash, the tribe is full-blown drunk, then the meal’s served, it’s sumptuous. Henry pays, leaving a hefty tip, and the drop-dead gorgeous waitress blows them a kiss, mouthing the words, 

love you, see you round midnight. 

Walking to Miss Emily’s they move clumsily through the night-time streets of Nassau. Henry sees a liquor store, Ko Ko’s, they go inside and buy 2 quarts of Mount Gay Barbados rum, a gallon of fresh guava juice and a bag of ice.

In Bungalow 109, Lucia turns on the radio to 107 ACE FM, all Caribbean music. Summer makes drinks as Lucia dances in place, swiveling like a corkscrew as she generates carnal current.

Summer runs outside in her underwear to a grassy area in the jungle between the bungalows, dancing the prima ballerina's role of the ballet Giselle. Henry sits on the grass watching, in awe of the young ballerina’s talent. 

The waitress from Curly’s shows, her name is Drea, she says, what da wybe is? And sits down with Henry. Lucia brings drinks and the 3 of them sit cross-legged watching Summer dance until she stops, flopping down in place, saying, 

I’m so outta shape, my body aches, let’s go chill in the hot tub. 

In a New York minute, the foursome is stark naked in the hot tub, luxuriating in the suchness of the moment. Summer moves towards Drea, they cling tight and sloppy kiss. Henry lifts and straddles Lucia on the deck of the tub, going down on her, when she's red hot, he fucks her. 

The paramours are a ball of kinetic passion, their tangled bodies shuffle from the hot tub to the bed, where they cum over and over as they traverse the way out sexual terrain. 

By 4 AM the girls have passed out in bed and Henry is asleep on the sofa.

Up at noon the following day, cleaning and grooming one another, Lucia combs Henry’s waist-length hair which is tangled from last night’s ruckus. Summer watches Drea section off, moisturize and style her TWA. Finally, the girls slip into their bikinis, then putting on t-shirts and flip-flops for the beach.

They walk a short distance to the Blue Sail Bar & Grill, which is on the beach, ordering Eggs Benedict, Loganberry crepes, Mimosas with Grand Mariner and a large pot of coffee.

After brunch they hit the beach, relaxing in lounge chairs and passing a joint around— getting high makes the already colorful scene even more colorful.

As the day at the beach blossoms, Henry, Lucia, Summer, and Drea smoke more Kush weed, levitating heavenwards into suspended animation. A reality more vivid than dreams which hovers over willing spirits with able flesh. Summer muses,

I feel as though I’m in a deluge, like Act 2 of Swan Lake when Odette is turned into a swan by the sorcerer Rothbart.

What Flavor are You?

In 1985 the first Columbia space shuttle was launched from the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, Florida, a city that would be a non-starter without NASA. 

The shuttle Columbia was piloted by Robert L. Crippen and John W. Young. The biggest splash the astronauts made during their time at NASA was when they landed the shuttle, overrunning the runway and ditching the craft in a muddy pond. 

As the shuttle entered the thermosphere flames from its main engines seared the wings and hair off a flock of angels, disrupting Heaven's composure and riling up St. Peter, who in turn reported the melee to the Gods. 

Two weeks ago Henry and Lucia were on a road trip to Key Largo and they met Summer Wynd. In no time the threesome fell in love and are presently shacking up in Key West. She's a 24-year-old, model lovely, runaway ballerina, much younger than the couple, proof that love is amoral. 

It's noon, Henry is writing in his office, the phone rings, it’s HEADBANGER Magazine editor Dave Spleen, a well-known speed freak who took bennies to help him meet deadlines, speaking at whirlwind speed, 

sweet stuff, last week's story, Runaway Ballerina, a home run, New Yorkers loved it, HEADBANGER Magazine went through 5 reprints. Is it true? Henry chuckles,

yeah, all true, the 3 of us are in a, you ready for this? Polyamorous relationship. Dave Spleen turned on,

polysexual relationship? You dog you! Henry goes on, 

sure it’s sexual, but we’re sleeping with

each other one on one, no threesomes yet!

Lucia and I were drinking on a deserted beach, there was a loud cosmic boom, love goo percolates through the clouds and Summer materializes. Love reigns triumphantly as sunbeams herald the dawn of the tribe. Dave thinking Henry is laying it on a bit thick says, 

for fuck's sake, can the theatrics, so, what are you working on? Henry answers earnestly,

I'm writing about the day to day hooey of the tribe, Lucia, Summer, Che and Mia our Chihuahuas, and Pedro the woodpecker. Speed freak Dave says in less than a nanosecond, 

OK man, gotta go, gotta deadline to meet! 

It’s 10 AM at the tribes Key West bungalow, Henry and Lucia sip Mexican coffee on the front porch, the Chihuahuas run in circles on the lawn and Pedro the woodpecker drums out a beat as he pecks a palm tree, losing himself in the cadence, much like Gene Krupa.

Summer brings a hot German pancake in the skillet to the front porch, serving it to Henry and Lucia. It’s filled with berries and has powdered sugar sprinkled on top. Lucia’s astounded as she takes a bite,   

goodness, the crepe is maravillosa darling, you're so talented!

As they eat the colossal pancake, cutting it like pizza, Summer wonders, 

dearies, I have a job interview at 2 and I'm going to need a lift, Henry volunteers,

Lucia doesn’t drive I’ll take you, where is it? She replies, 

The Martha Graham Dance Academy, it's downtown, he says, 

We’ll take the Vespa, Lucia cuts in, 

not without me, he then says, 

OK, we’ll take the station wagon!

The tribe was hip to boot, but occasionally the day to day business of the threesome was as apple pie as The Brady Bunch.

Lucia gives Summer a dress for the interview. It’s a short ride to The Martha Graham Dance Academy, in a few minutes they're there, looking at one another and laughing, realizing they should have walked.

Henry parks across the street from the dance academy, near the down and dirty Dolphin Lounge. Summer crosses the street, walking to the dance academy and going inside. It's in a single-story brick building, at the receptionist desk she says,

My name is Summer Wynd, I'm here to interview for the teaching position, the receptionist looks at her blankly, handing her an application on a clipboard, saying, 

fill this out! Miss Aecup will be with you shortly.

Summer doesn't know the tribe's address so she makes one up. She had danced with the New York City Ballet for 10 years and the Ballet Mistress, Rosemary Dunlevy, was good for a glowing recommendation.

Miss Aecup enters the lobby, she greets Summer, they walk into her office and sit down. She is thin and flat-chested with a prominent mole in the middle of her forehead, like a 3rd eye, giving one the feeling Aecup is all eyes.

She glances through Summer's application, practically dropping a load as she reads that Summer had danced with the New York City Ballet, saying,

Miss Wynd, you are overqualified for the teaching position, and, we can't meet the salary the New York City Ballet paid you. Summer is taken aback, collecting her thoughts and then retorting,

Miss Aecup, whatever the academy can afford is fine. Your students have an opportunity to study with a noted ballerina, don't deny them that opportunity! She has Aecup in her little pocket, 

Miss Wynd, come for orientation on Monday, you'll be teaching with Gay Johnson, a member of the Royal Miami Ballet. 

On her way out she walks by the milk and water receptionist ignoring her, thinking, 

Royal Miami Ballet? What a crock of shit.  

Across the street, she sees the station wagon is empty and goes into the Dolphin Lounge, it's 3 in the afternoon and the tavern is dark and thick with smoke. 

Expecting to see Satan bartending, she sits on a barstool next to Henry and Lucia. They are drinking Boilermakers with a South Floridian poet known as Sucker Fish, a middle-aged hippie with long sun-bleached hair, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cut-offs. She tells everyone the good news, 

I start teaching Monday at the dance academy, Lucia orders a round of Boilermakers for the tribe and Sucker Fish, feeling happy for Summer, 

wonderful darling, let’s celebrate! 

Sucker Fish's life is one never-ending carnival, he stands on a barstool to recite a poem he has written. The barflies in the Dolphin Lounge are hunched over their drinks, their minds nowhere, oblivious to Sucker Fish who begins his recitation. 

Hear ye, hear ye, landlubbers and scuttled buccaneers! I dedicate this poem to the bootylicious goddess of the sea, Florida's very own Amphitrite, the drop-dead gorgeous Lucia Varga! 

             Come to the beach

             Where the sea is blue

             And little white waves

             Come running at you

             A wave comes splashing 

             Over your toes.

             You just standstill 

             And away it goes.

             We’ll build a castle

             Down by the sea

             If you’ll come with me.

Summer rolls her eyes, looking at Henry and mouthing the words,

let’s get outta here,

still, on the bar stool Sucker Fish bows to the audience of sodden barflies, he accidentally falls on the floor, laying there in serious pain, holding his arm. 

Henry goes to Sucker Fish, wanting to help the wounded poet, noticing the bone of his left forearm has broken through the skin, yelling at the bartender, 

call 911!

The Key West Fire Department shows in seconds, carefully lifting poor Sucker Fish into a foldable stretcher and rushing him to Key West Medical Center. 

As the tribe leaves the Dolphin Lounge the 10 or so barflies are frozen in place, slumped over, anesthetized and dispassionate.

Driving home Lucia is shaken and says,

I will never go to Zalón de Delfines again, it’s an awful place! Henry laughs, 

In English, it's called the Dolphin Lounge!

The scene at the Dolphin Lounge was distressing. Inside the house, the Chihuahuas, Che, and Mia jump and shake, happy to see the tribe as Pedro the woodpecker chirps, perched on the TV. 

Lucia is busy basting a chicken that is in the oven and boiling red beans and rice.  Henry's watching Monday Night Football in the living room, Summer is sitting at the kitchen table chopping Collard greens and asks,

do you like Henry’s cock? Lucia smiles broadly answering,

yes, I love to swallow his cum, it tastes like salty raw oysters and chlorine. Darling, I think you know I turned tricks in Havana for years. Fidel Castro was a regular, he was hung like a burro and he’d sprinkle cocaína on the head of his pene, we would fuck for hours. El comandante’s esperma tasted like bloody bullets. Summer laughs out loud and says,

my love, your pussy tastes like duck sauce from a Chinese restaurant, so delish! 

As the 3rd period ends, it's the Dolphins 20 and the Eagles 6. Dinner is on the kitchen table, the girls sit on each side of Henry who is at the head of the table wondering,

Should I pray to the Gods for something, a Mercedes Benz maybe, or should I ask them to bless the food we are about pass through our digestive tract? Lucia thinking he was talking nonsense breaks in,

cut the shit Henry, you think you're prayerful? Well, you're not! Everybody knows you're an atheist. He goes on, turning a deaf ear to Lucia,  

Anyway, I was watching the ballgame, and let me tell you football’s no aphrodisiac, but, I was thinking about the times I’ve gone down on you guys. For reasons unknown, I took a double-A battery out of the remote and licked it to see if it tasted like pussy, and it did. 

The girl's wondered if he was eavesdropping on their carnal tête-à-tête in the kitchen? Summer bringing the conversation home says,   

Wouldn't life be a drag if we all tasted the same?

Runaway Ballerina

On this day in 1985, a Florida man who found out his father helped deliver him during birth inexplicably smashed a hot pizza in the older man’s face upon learning the news. 

Pincus Sprinkle of Windmill, Florida was charged with assault and littering. He remains in the county jail in lieu of a $150 bond. At the trial, his lawyer pleaded

with the judge to wave the bond because his client is allergic to jailhouse food, particularly, baloney, moldy wonder bread, and kool-aid. 

Sheriff’s deputies were called Thursday to the Sprinkle family’s home, where they found a pizza slice on a chair and cheese sauce strewn around the room. Evidence enough to send Pincus to the big house.

Henry and Lucia wake early, showering and shampooing each other's hair. She has waist-length naturally curly pitch-dark hair, his hair is long salt and pepper colored, which he braids Native-Indian style.

After showering and packing they enjoying a leisurely breakfast on the front porch— grapefruit, watermelon, brown sugar Pop-Tarts, shots of Ouzo and coffee. Pedro their woodpecker begs Lucia for Pop-Tart crumbs, nudging her with his beck. Henry pours Ouzo into a glass of water, with childlike zeal saying, 

see this sweetie? When I pour Ouzo into water there's a chemical reaction causing the compound to turn cloudy, it’s called the Ouzo Effect! Thinking he's off his rocker she says,

amazing Louis Pasteur, my husband the chemist!

They will spend a night in Key Largo, a town with booguu dog and woodpecker friendly motels.

During the 40s the movie Key Largo was filmed in Key Largo, putting the small town on the map.

As the film opens a group of sadistic gangsters and kingpin Johnny Rizzo, played by Edward G. Robinson, take over the Key Largo hotel, holding a group of guests hostage because the gang was bored stupid as they waited for a boat to take them to Cuba. 

The mob plays fiendish mind games with the hostages in the claustrophobic lobby of the Key Largo Motel until Frank McCloud, played by Humprey Bogart has had enough. With pre-Bruce Lee lightning-quick moves, Frank unyokes Johnny Ricco's gun, pumping Ricco and his knocked sideways thugs full of lead.

Lucia carries a large Gucci bag as Henry wheels their iced-downed Coleman Cool Box, filled with Budweiser beer, 3 bottles of Jack Daniels and cans of soda water, loading the booze into the cargo area of their 1975 Chevy Malibu Station Wagon. The Chihuahuas, Che, and Mia follow as Pedro the woodpecker naps inside Lucia's bag.


It’s a 2-hour drive from Key West to Key Largo on the 7 Mile Bridge which spans the Islands of the Keys. Most of the drive is over water, with the Gulf of Mexico on the port side and the Atlantic Ocean starboard. Driving north on Highway 1 he invents a drinking game, 

OK, babe, there are 6 towns on the road to Key Largo, whataya say we make a pit stop at each of em and down a shot with a beer? Lucia giggles,

and the one who fucks up The Finger to Nose Test buys dinner, Henry fired up,

OK, you're on!

The first stop is Summerland Key, Henry wheels the station wagon off the highway at Bahia Honda State Park, passing the public beach to a deserted corner of the park with a single picnic table. As they open the tailgate of the wagon the Chis and Pedro bolt out. The couple wheels the cool box through the sand to the lone picnic table, downing a shot and sucking down a can of beer. 

Lucia takes off her tank top and bra,  swaying back and forth from the waist up, causing her immense natural orbs to oscillate. 

The Chis paddle about in the ocean, worried about sharks and high waves Henry calls them in, Pedro is in a pine tree, pecking away, drumming out patterns of sound like Morris Code.

A 26-year old girl with braided hair, wearing a knitted bikini top and short-shorts glides gracefully up to the couple, placing both her hands on Lucia's breasts, speaking softly,

your aura pulled me to you.

The willowy beauty rubs Lucia’s chest, they become inflamed and french kiss, deep long kisses. Henry knows what's coming and says,

OK, time out! Let’s have a drink for fuck’s sack and get to know each other.

OK, I’m Summer, 

we’re Henry and Lucia.

Summer pulls a joint of skunk weed from a small crocodile-skin backpack, they pass the weed around. Summer opens up, telling her story, 

I’ve been dancing since I was 5, I was danseur suje with the New York City Ballet, success came at a price though, look at my feet! 

She has calloused feet and her toenails are thick! Describing her painfilled past,

I paint my nails because they’re black. My back is shot and I have tendonitis. Professional ballet was eating me alive and I had to get out, so I left New York and have been on the bum ever since. Pedro flies to Summer, perching on her shoulder as Lucia says,

poor bebe, come with us to Key Largo!

Henry drives north on the highway and Summer sits between the couple in the center of the front seat. She pulls a cassette tape from the glove box, putting it into the tape player— Stay with Me by Faces, it’s a getaway song, the station wagon overflows with feelings of intimacy, sexual vibrations, and anticipation.

Everybody's hungry, he wheels off the highway, driving through the town of Marathon, seeing a quaint Cubano cafe, La Nina Restaurante, parking and leaving the pets in the car.

Inside they sit down in a booth, it's an all you can eat buffet, Summer blushes, 

you 2 go ahead and eat, I’m broke darlings, Lucia hugs her,

Henry and I love you bebe, you’re family, we’ll take care of you! 

The 3 of them feel warm and connected as they walk to the buffet, it’s loaded with everything Cuban—Masitas, Mojo, Yuca, fried plantains, pulled pork, polla, rice, and beans, with flan and donuts for dessert.

Summer fills her plate, she hadn’t eaten in a few days, Henry concerned she gets enough to eat,

doll, feel free to go back and fill your plate! 

After a while, she walks to the buffet for a 2nd serving, her plate brimming over with deliciosa comida Cubana. Henry gets the ball rolling, 

Summer did ya know Lucia is Cuban? We met there, she was the love goddess of Havana, known for her beauty, and I’m gonna tell ya, Castro’s balls ached for her! Lucia cuts in,

watch it maldido puta, don’t go too far with this, Summer interjects in a quiet manner,

it's true, Lucia's exquisite I want her! Henry hooting out loud,

Oh, don't worry, she’ll jump your bones when we get to Key Largo. Eat up Summer, you’re gonna need the protein when she gets ya in the sack! Lucia gives him the evil eye, arching one eyebrow,

you’re being an asshole Henry, we were in a groove and you shit all over it!

As she works on her 3rd plate of food, the fun couple orders a pitcher of Bucanero beer mixed with Clamato. 

Summer was above the fray, radiating violet light, she could daydream and change the world. 

Henry and Lucia weren’t spiritual, their relationship was an ignoble game of tit for tat, he would bait her and she would spit the bait back. But, their crosstalk was a mere lark, anger didn’t have a place in their life, they were in love with each other and in love with the world, naively blind to the agonies of the world. 

They were thrill-seeking hedonists who couldn't tell you who the governor of Florida or New York was because they didn't care. Henry didn't vote and Lucia had lived most of her life in Cuba, seeing first hand the damage extremist politics could do. Politics were for anybody but them. 

Henry goes to pay the bill, a heavyset bald-headed Cuban with a pencil mustache, wearing whites, who's standing behind the cashier says,

does the hippy chica have tapeworms? She ate like a burro! You're esposa is Cuban so I won't charge you double.

As Henry drives the highway north, Lucia feeds the Chis and Pedro leftovers smuggled out of the cafe. Pedro enjoys the fried plantains, moving his head back and forth as he nibbles the tiny bits from her hand, happy she comments, 

my little Pedro loves to eat!

Luca lights a joint, passing it around, Henry decides to drive non stop to Key Largo, it's a 1-hour drive from Marathon. 

Summer is wedged between the couple in the front seat, she takes a cassette tape from the glove box, placing it in the tape player. Rocks Off, a Rolling Stones riff, plays as Henry jibes,

there's nothing in the world Lucia loves more than getting her rocks off! She comes back with,

did he tell you he gets down on his knees and begs me to squirt on him?

As the Stone's riff Soul Survivor plays Henry pulls into Key Largo, going to a phone booth, thumbing through the yellow pages to find a dog-friendly motel. He calls Pop’s Motel, it fits the bill, getting directions. Key Largo like Key West has 3 main streets so finding Pop’s is a cinch, 

He parks at the front office, Lucia, Summer, and the Chis get out of the station wagon, walking around, looking the motel grounds over as Pedro flies to a palm tree to do some pecking. 

The grounds couldn’t be better, there is a private beach surrounded by palm trees on 3 sides.

The motel has 12 bungalows, the rooms are 100% kitsch but homey— walls paneled with imitation walnut wood, the prevalent colors are, dark brown, light brown and vanilla, tacky framed prints like you'd see in a Salvation Army store line the walls, and the bathrooms have cheap plastic shower curtains.

Henry walks into the front office. At the counter, he sees an old guy resembling Charlie Weaver standing by his wife who looks like the Grandma logo on a package of Grandma’s cookies. The guy goes through a canned spiel,  

Welcome to Pop’s Motel, I’m Pops and this is my wife Dumplin, we're a pet-friendly, Christian motel, no hanky panky, alcohol or drugs allowed! 

Henry thinking, staying here will be like living in a convent, but it’ll be a hoot breaking the rules! He kisses up to Pops,

Praise the Lord Pops and praise you too! I need a large room for my wife, our teenage daughter, 2 Chihuahuas, and a woodpecker. Pops likes what he hears, thinking Henry is Christian,

will you need a cot son? Henry replies,

no sir, Pops, my wife, daughter and I are very close, inseparable, sleeping together comforts us. 

He pays Pops for a couple of nights and takes the key for bungalow 107. Then, driving the station wagon to the bungalow as the others follow walking, Pedro preferring to hang-out in the palms and peck.

The bungalow is large, with a kitchenette, and a mini-refrigerator. They walk inside and turn on the air-conditioner, Summer walks to the ice machine near the front office, Pops is standing outside, smiling, 

I met your father, he reeked of alcohol, but he assured me he's a good Christian. Summer puzzled says, 

cheers, Gramps!

Back at the bungalow, Summer brings ice and makes drinks, Jack Daniels and soda. Henry ques them in,

Pops is a born again, no hanky panky, straight-up guy, we’ll play along with him, he means well!

Lucia notices a painting of Jesus over the bed, which she takes down and puts in a drawer, saying, 

I don’t want Jesucristo looking down on me while I’m screwing, it'll make me feel guilty!

It’s 8 PM, the Chis are asleep, Pedro pecks on the door, Summer lets him in and goes back to bed with Lucia, rolling a joint. Henry is watching Monday Night Football on TV. 

The girls light the joint, exchanging mouth hits, then making out, tenderly biting one another’s lips, enjoying the paltry pain as their bodies shiver. They go down on each other, gyrating briskly, moans become screams, the phone rings. 

Henry's wrapped up in the football game, unaware the girls are balling. It’s Pops,

Henry, your neighbors in bungalow 8 have complained about the noises coming from your bungalow! He's ready with an alibi,

Oh yeah, right Pops, Our daughter Summer has the lead in her high school play, Cape Fear, we’re cold reading it with her, going over the scene where Leigh Bowden finds a private detective with his throat cut in her kitchen and screams. Pop’s chuckles, 

I see Henry, it’s OK to rehearse, but no screams, please!

After the football game at 9 PM they go out for a late bite to eat, and more drinks, leaving the pets in the bungalow. Henry drives through the small town in no time, driving out of town on a dimly lit back road loaded with pot-holes, by chance finding the Caribbean Club. 

The joint oozes history, founded in 1938,  it’s the oldest bar in the keys. It started out as hangout for hard-drinking local fishermen and by the 40s it became backroom gambling den. In 1947, Warner Brother’s screenwriters used the bar for inspiration, writing the screenplay for Key Largo there, typing and drinking away in the tavern. The scenes in the lobby of the Key Largo Hotel were shot at Warner Brother's studios in Hollywood and the outdoor bits were filmed in proximity to the Caribbean Club.

Henry parks the station wagon in front of the tavern, inside they sit at an old wooden table. The bar has a high beamed ceiling, the beams are dark from age. There’s a taxidermy mounted Blue Marlin behind the bar and a small sign hanging over an old cash register, reading,

                         NO CREDIT CARDS

The walls are paneled with imitation wood and the barroom is cluttered with neon beer signs on the walls.

There’s a group of serious boozers sitting at the bar, looking like the barflies in The Elbow Inn, the tavern in the Charles Bukowski bio-film, Barfly.

The bar-goers eyeball Lucia and Summer, who they think are movie stars, there is a marked contrast between the girls and the barflies. 

There's no waitress, it's self-service, Henry walks to the bar, jotting down his order on a piece of paper using a pencil. He orders fresh crab-legs, catch of the day which is Grouper, a large plate of hash browns, and 3 plastic buckets of Rum Runners. The buckets of booze are ready in a flash, Henry playing waitress serves the girls saying,

I guess I'm the designated waitress tonight, you 2 are fagged out, suffering from orgasm fatigue, Lucia yawns,

if you could get it up, we wood-a asked you to join in! 

Henry and Lucia are constant drinkers, the word alcoholic wasn’t in their vocabulary. Summer drank nonstop as well, delighted to be with people who drank the same as her. The only difference between the threesome and the barflies is, they are active drinkers who didn't sit in a tavern all day and night.

Henry walks to the bar to pick up the dinner trays, the girls laughing, figuring he was so loaded he might drop a tray. After eating they drink snifter glasses of cognac, later Lucia says, 

I'm drunk, I feel sick! Summer loves her and is concerned, 

Henry let's take her back to the motel!

He drives back to Pop’s Motel on the same back road he drove to the tavern on. Lucia is laying in the cargo area of the station wagon with her head on Summer's lap, who is cradling her and holding a wet towel on her forehead. 

Henry's way, way smashed and driving perilously on the poorly lit road. There’s a loud thud as the car hits something, he gets out with a lit flashlight to investigate, seeing an alligator scamper into the bush. 

Back in the car, Lucia has spewed all over, Henry is shaken up by the accident,

I hit an alligator, luckily he’s OK!

In the bungalow at Pop’s Motel, Summer helps Lucia into the bathroom, bathing and spoon-feeding her ganja tea, which soothes nausea. After the bath, she puts Lucia to bed. 

She and Henry walk to the motel beach and sit on lounge chairs, smoking pot, he says,

Lucia is allergic to shellfish, we were so loaded we forgot. Summer walks towards him, sitting on the edge of his lounge chair saying,

poor baby, we'll make a delicious breakfast in the morning! 

Then she reaches out to him, clasping his head with both hands as she looks into his eyes saying,

I love you guys so much!

They deep kiss, then she pulls his shorts down past his knees, going down on him, sucking him full tilt, getting on top of him, riding cowgirl style. 

After finishing they go skinny dipping in the ocean, holding one another and looking at the moon. Henry waxing,

today felt like an eternity, as though time was marching in place, marking time till we rounded-off a full circle.