the Big 10 on the palapa

Courtney and I went on our run today, and got cat-calls the entire time we were within sight of a construction site full of locals. Did the big 10 on the palapa deck and the dock. We met a guy named Moose (James) that looked like my dad in the 70’s. Well, if my dad had his 70’s look, aged 30 years. He was Caucasian, but had skin like tanned leather, and blonde/gray dreadlocks. He was riding a bicycle with no shoes on and said that if I brought my harmonica to the Roadkill Bar tonight, I could get onstage and sing.

And there we were, crashing through the narrow, dirt, potholed San Pedro streets, stacked to the top of the golf cart with beer bottles rolling out behind us, waving at every local and careening around corners screaming “woo hoo!” We blustered into the Roadkill Bar, didn’t buy drinks, and overtook the sandy dance floor. The girls in skirts, stomping and twirling, and BK and Geoff doing their best dance that boys can do.

Sang “A Whole New World” on the way back home under a full moon, and I don’t believe our rabble-rousing was appreciated by the locals.