Three Key Stories

So why haven't I talked about the Keys yet?  I've been there six times.  The first time I was 22, so old enough to drink.  That's important as Key West is a party town.  How does that go?  A fishing town with a drinking problem?  or is it a drinking town with a fishing problem?  whatever, I didn't make it up.  My brother lived there for a while.  While I was going to college he was having adventures.  Anyway, I never visited because any time I took off school I went to see the boyfriend in Virginia, and then there was hurricane Andrew.  So the first time I went lines up with the first time my husband left me.  You'll see a pattern here.  Maybe that's why I'm putting this off.  I learned how to snorkel!  Had an excellent time.  My brother knew all the spots!  John Pennekamp, you could snorkel from shore.  They also had excursions and kayak rentals.  So we explored the mangroves looking for manatees.  I don't think we found any.  oh but the snorkeling excursion!  so many beautiful bright fish.  That's where I learned about sergeant majors and parrot fish.  I remember lobsters too.  oh and the barracuda!  Let's talk about that...

First, we were young and poor and cheap, so we got a campsite for a week in Key Largo.  It was my brother, his girl, and me.  All in one tent.  I remember reading out loud Sphere by Michael Crichton as a bedtime story.  So one day we rent a boat, take it out, then randomly stop at some spot in the ocean that apparently felt right, and bro says, ok sister, jump in and see if there's anything worth seeing.  So I did.  There's nothing.  I'm swimming along, unbeknownst to me in a current.  Then I see the ugly bastard!  Teeth!  Teeth and eyes that seemed to say, The fuck you want?  I hightail it outa there.  In other words I flap my arms and legs wildly as if I can swim up current at more than a snail's pace, then haul my ass back in the boat with arms of spaghetti because I'm a sopping wet fatty with no upper body strength and flexibility so bad I can't get a foot in the lowest rung of the ladder.  Of course brother hears this and dives right on in because, he's who he is.  Poor guy never saw him.  Eventually we saw a storm in the distance and we raced back to shore.  Weather turns quick in the islands and we may have boating experience but we're far from experts.  So me and the girlfriend are holding on in the front (ok, the bow, whatever) for dear life because the waves are getting big and apparently you have to hit them slightly off dead center or risk capsizing.  What this means is every few seconds our butts come up off the boat and slam back down, and brother is giggling like a maniac.  His giggle has never seemed odd to me as I grew up with it, but I think this was the day I first suspected he might have a screw loose.  Anyhow, so picture this, WHAM (boat hitting wave), AAAA (girlish screams), FUCK (painful impact), HEE HEE HEE.  Again with no cues, WHAM, AAAA, FUCK, HEE HEE HEE, WHAM, AAAA, FUCK, HEE HEE HEE.  That's my barracuda story.  Which reminds me of another story...

Fast forward.  This time I'm 36.  This time it's just me and my brother staying at a rental in Duck Key.  This time it's him coming out of a breakup.  I'm still cheap, but not poor.  I got a great deal for two weeks in August!  The hottest hotness ever.  And humid! Oh but those breezes.  Back in the day I loved it hot.  Brother still does. After two weeks though, I was done.  For the first and last time in my life I said, I'm tired of being wet.  So we go to Bahia Honda Key.  It's a beautiful state park, nice water, snorkel from shore, interesting abandoned rail bridges.  It's where that famous scene from True Lies was filmed.  You must remember Jamie Lee Curtis hanging from the helicopter?  Anyway, we're walking up to the beach and in the shallows I see it!  A giant stingray!  I can't contain my excitement and I say Brother!  it's a.... oh nothing.  I shut down quickly knowing this psychopath will dive in and try to play with it.  He grins.  I mean really grins, eyes wide, all teeth showing, glowing like a kid on Christmas.  He knows there's something cool nearby and he can get it out of me.  Luckily, he was in such a hurry he didn't put on flippers and the stingray easily swam off.  Fast forward I don't know how many years, he's messing with something (a stingray) he shouldn't and he gets jabbed in the wrist.  Yeah, that'll teach you.  A week later (or so) the Crocodile Hunter dies from being stabbed in the chest by a stingray.  I vaguely remember waving a newspaper in his face.  Where did I get a newspaper?  

Now let's rewind, but just a bit.  I'm 33 with my bestie and her husband.  They had a time share or two in Key West.  That's NOT why she's by bestie!  Anyhow, this is right after I tried to leave my husband.  I say try because somehow, I find him charming as fuck.  I am just a touch proud of this next story.  I started a bar fight!  I was chatting with some hotty, and maybe he was talking about leaving?  I said no, no!  Check out those ladies dancing, don't you want to watch that?  Go up there!  Well these two ladies were with some old guy in a wheelchair, and they were dancing on an empty stage.  Well hotty went right up and started dancing with them.  People tend to do what I tell them.  It's a gift I use for shenanigans only.  Wheelchair dude doesn't like this and tries to get him down by yanking on his shirt.  Did I mention hotty was drunk?  I shouldn't need to, Key West.  So now hotty is gonna try to fight with wheelchair guy!  What a douche!  In comes hotty's 'handler', I assume a good friend.  All drunks need a handler.  Handler's parting shot to me was, Are you Happy?  I acted horrified, but here we are.  I forgot to mention, similar to my brother, disasters make me giggle.   I try to wait till after the fact.  Not the best story.  Usually I stop at, I started a bar fight.  People's imaginations are way better than reality.  Let's pretend all the men in the joint were fighting over who got to rub my feet.  

So that's stories from three of the six trips.  I think I'll do a part 2.  Stay tuned.