The Great Plotnik

Friday, February 14, 2014

Isabel Secunda, Vieques, Puerto Rico

We sat at a table in white plastic chairs on the balcony at Mamasonga, a bar with a cafe upstairs. Beach town. Young but not too young people with bodies covered with multiple tattoos at the bar. I questioned Barb as to how this is done? One tattoo has to come first, right? Then what? Before she could answer she let out a yell as an iguana dropped out of a tree, walked past her and ambled along the railing begging for French Fries. The food was so-so but the iguana was amazing. His tail can rip a hole in your arm so people were careful. Then the iguana hopped back into the tree. Two pigeons took his place on the rail. They scored nothing. It was like Clay Aiken trying to follow Beethoven.

We sat outside in the courtyard at El Conuco. It started to drizzle. Barb suggested we go in. I said, "nahhh. It'll stop." She said "I don't think so. Let's get a table inside." The minute after we sat down inside the skies erupted. It rained for ten solid minutes like you only hear in the tropics or Texas. Water sheeted off overhangs. The rain on the tin roof made it impossible to talk without screaming. The mojitos and tequila were fantastic and the shared community of diners experiencing nature together made the liquor taste better. People laughed and joined each others' shouted conversations with wide-eyed smiles. 

Then the rain stopped and the stars came out. The diners turned back to each other. Things got quiet. The moment passed.


At 10:03 AM, Blogger notthatlucas said...

First - I love iguanas and think you gave the pigeons too much credit.

Second - Don't stop listening to Barb. Ever.

At 5:08 PM, Blogger mary ann said...

it just isn't fair that iguanas are soooooo ugly and scary


Post a Comment

<< Home