So Mike and I thought we would share a nice dinner out in Key Largo. Apparently we enjoy torture, or maybe we just needed a little reminder of all the things we’ll miss. Like, painfully slow service.
We dined at Bogie’s. Bogie, for all you young folks, is a charming nickname for Humphrey Bogart. Bogart starred in the film Key Largo, which was not filmed at this restaurant. We sat on the patio, near the pool. It was a cool evening, the sun had already set, and we listened to the waterfall and the piano player in the dining room.
We weren’t in a hurry, and good thing too, because we waited 20 minutes before someone took our drink order and brought menus. We chatted, laughed at the cat prowling around the tables, looking for scraps, and memorized the menus. Much later, the nice, but obviously overworked waitress, took our order. It was equally obvious from the people sitting around us, that we had only begun waiting.
Twenty minutes later, one of the plastic patio dining tables flew across the floor. Followed closely by a terrified cat. The table didn’t fly on it’s own; it was thrown by a big burly man thing. I’m guessing he probably was upset at the slothful service, but it was hard to tell between all the F bombs. He yelled, loudly, profanely, unintelligibly, all the way across the dining area, through the pool area, and to his hotel room.
We laughed at how stupid he looked and sounded. Then we mocked him a little bit. Very entertaining. The table to our right demanded to speak with a manager. The waitress didn’t expect them to pay for their food, did she? We couldn’t mock them out loud, obviously, but we rolled our eyes. I mean, don’t go out to eat in the Keys if you’re expecting actual service. That’s like going to Arizona to see their world famous waterfalls; or going to Washington D.C. and being shocked by the surprising amount of government buildings.
Finally the food arrived. Yellowtailed snapper, encrusted with Parmesan, drizzled with a key lime sauce and tomato salsa, with a side of steamed veggies and rice pilaf. Moments later a nice old lady (I’m just assuming she was nice, of course) was seated directly to the left of us. She must have been having sinus problems while she was putting on her perfume.
“I just can’t smell it! I’ll just put on a couple dozen more spritzes, just in case.”
Seriously. It was so strong, I couldn’t smell my food, which was mere inches from my face. I kept looking in her direction, willing the winds to change. It didn’t work.
“What a night.” I said.
“Yeah.” Mike agreed.
“First a restaurant cat, then crazy F man, now this.” I nodded in stinky lady’s direction.
“Hm.” He agreed again with a mouthful of food.
I took a bite of my rice. While I was chewing it, I glanced at stinky lady again.
“So, how far away do you think she is? Six feet?”
Mike smiled. “More like ten. Why? You gonna put this in your blog?”