Friday, June 30, 2017

Night Waterfront

It was very early in the morning and Rusty was ambling by himself sniffing here and there and circling around me giving me time to look and see what I could see without the need to be lurched along at the end of a leash. It was liberating for both of us.
I noticed the lighted globes at the Marker Hotel recently sold I am told by developer Singh for one hundred million dollars. Which gives him play money to build more impossibly expensive accommodation in the town formerly believed to be quirky. We still see funky bicycles in Key West; all is not lost.
I am not an occupier of bar stools much. I have no facility for small talk and i struggle to remember the details of people's lives, their births marriages deaths and recent events. My own life seems to ebb and flow with a regularity that would frighten me if I thought too hard about it. Sitting on a bar stool trying to impress a stranger would make me pass out from over exertion. I have no idea how people do it, but look at this picture of well worn stools at Conch Republic Seafood and you'll see they do just that:
In keeping with it's city lease I assume, Conch Republic keeps commercial boats at it's docks, the remnants of a fleet that once filled the Key West Bight, now known to some as the Historic Seaport for those people who buy Singh's developments, and now this boat or two is here for a touch of authenticity.  
This is what the tourists want, comfortable seating, a solicitous captain kn knowledgeable of where the fish are and ready with a flow of cheerful soothing banter and cold drinks. 
This si the modern fishing fleet of Key west, the smelly commercial boats are banished, for now, to Stock Island, where the Monroe County government fights a desperate rear guard action trying to buy up commercial dockage to preserve an actual commercial fleet for a while longer. 
It was lovely at five in the morning, no traffic no people just me and my dog and my camera and the sound of the breeze. That's when the old Key West manifests itself a little bit from behind the stage paint of name brands and accessories and the vacant looks of those who don't know what thrill they seek.
By the time they come out to play Rusty and I were long gone home and to bed. Vampires both.