Near Normal

Sandy's after the hurricane dispensing good cheer till supplies ran out

I got the 13 year old ET4 out of storage in Marathon and rode it to Key West after I put a few pounds of pressure in the tire. I stopped by my wife's temporary classroom which came within three feet of being flooded. The leaves mark highest surge up the ramp which looks longer in the picture than it really is. She is supposed to get a new Adult Ed classroom of her own next  year when the county builds a new library in Marathon...

I put a few pounds of air in the tires from the compressor I carry in my car and took off. I had forgotten my helmet so the 60 mph breeze was a bit uncomfortable and I forget my sunscreen so in keeping with the chaos of post-Irma life I was a bit scatter brained but it all came out in the end. Crossing the Seven Mile Bridge:

With the orange Vespa giving me fits in the replacement of the drive belt I am riding the 2004 ET4 150, the original automatic Vespa in the US and I like this scooter a lot. The paint is still thick the engine runs smoothly and after the recent tune up and new suspension it is full of get up and go. My wife following me home said she had trouble keeping up in the car.That's what I like to hear. If however you want an idea how slow clean up is check out he Aids Memorial:

 The road is still closed at Higgs Beach where flooding and sand invaded Key West as usual. I turned north on White Street and checked out the new city hall. I was one of the apparent minority who supported this project, a pet of Mayor Cates. he took a  lot of flak for the $20 million construction job,but I think he was right to put city hall here in the old school. It's centrally located with lots of parking and it is apparently strong enough to survive a Category Four Hurricane.

 Last stop on the way to work: Sandys. Now pen with an extensive menu.

I celebrated a return to near normal with bacon in my cheese bread and a quiet spot to read the newspaper on my phone:

Even the rooster respected my need for quiet contemplation in a hurricane world, by staying quiet for once.

I remember this Key West...

Salsa At Sandy's Cafe

I think when my colleagues voted to send me down Virginia Street to get coffee and snacks from Sandy's Cafe, the all night Cuban Coffee shop on White Street, they weren't expecting me to get the better part of the deal. But I did. Take photos and make sure they don't eat all the croquetas-Nick texted on receipt of this picture:

The  great thing about Key West is that even at three in the morning it's highly unlikely that anyone is going to be an asshole or pick a fight on the streets. In my experience even drunks will at worst be annoying, though the requirement is for you to keep your cool and keep smiling. Key West is a very safe easy going town on the streets. In the pages of the paper tempers flare, and neighbors don' get along great a lot of the time, but walking the streets is usually a pleasure. They aren't strippers, my uncharitable fellow dispatchers texted between 911 calls.

So being the only white guy in what suddenly became a crowd was no big deal. The pity of it was I suppose that I had a police shirt on and yet the big cotton badge gave me a shield to hide behind too.

The women who my (jealous) colleagues rather uncharitably ascribed by text, to the oldest profession might have had  a busy night as they ordered plates of full-on Mexican food. Paradoxically Sandy's Cuban Cafe is run by Mexicans.What is she wearing under that mesh dress? That's for me to know.

The car stereo was turned up and salsa classes began on the sidewalk. Bring more croquetas was all I heard from the peanut gallery.

Apparently they figured they would do better among themselves and there was talk of a threesome but I think it was not intended as anything more than a quick all-woman shuffle while waiting for dinner/breakfast. 

I was in no mood to reveal my Spanish so I kept out of the banter and took the text comments from the office as I kept my colleagues trapped in dispatch up to date. Michael, tell her she's a chonga. It means "beautiful goddess" in Spanish. Thanks Chelsea, I wasn't born yesterday.

 Oops! Not the only white guy any more. Reinforcements.

 Look but don't touch, and she put on a nice show for her audience.

 Time to go. Thank you I said, for livening up a quiet night.

She looked startled. Claro que si, hablo espanol. I could see her thinking back wondering what she'd said. I was busy putting the coffees in the car and clearly I couldn't reveal. That would be impolite.