Happy Hour at the Pickled Parrot
Would I be doing that guy in the tie-dyed t-shirt and aviator glasses a favor if I told him that we weren’t in Margaritaville? I’m not sure he’d believe me.
An athletic young couple reserves a kayak for 5:30 tomorrow morning. Then they tiptoe back to their beach house to mate like mad mink.
Lunch time. A dark man is selling plastic replicas of ancient Mayan temples. He smiles hopefully. We tell him “no thank you” while a stray pregnant dog barks at him. He wraps up his goods in a colorful towel and walks away.
cold front —
a plastic cup
tumbles across the beach
Would I be doing that guy in the tie-dyed t-shirt and aviator glasses a favor if I told him that we weren’t in Margaritaville? I’m not sure he’d believe me.
An athletic young couple reserves a kayak for 5:30 tomorrow morning. Then they tiptoe back to their beach house to mate like mad mink.
Lunch time. A dark man is selling plastic replicas of ancient Mayan temples. He smiles hopefully. We tell him “no thank you” while a stray pregnant dog barks at him. He wraps up his goods in a colorful towel and walks away.
An athletic young couple reserves a kayak for 5:30 tomorrow morning. Then they tiptoe back to their beach house to mate like mad mink.
Lunch time. A dark man is selling plastic replicas of ancient Mayan temples. He smiles hopefully. We tell him “no thank you” while a stray pregnant dog barks at him. He wraps up his goods in a colorful towel and walks away.
cold front —
a plastic cup
tumbles across the beach
posted by extraspecialbitter at 3:44 PM
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