Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Back to Key West Part 2 

Key West - Slow Day 2
September 2009

I neglected to mention in the Day 1 post about the last thing I do remember. Since we were staying in a guest house we were provided with two sets of keys. One to the front door of the house and one to our room. I remember staggering down Fleming Street and up the front steps of the house, but the key wouldn't work. I tried and tried to no avail. Somehow it occurred to me, assuming the ghost of Marrero's called me because all reason had left my body, that I was trying to gain entrance into the wrong residence. A private home, definitely not my resting place.

Thank god they didn't leave their door unlocked or the missus might have gotten herself a little early morning surprise.

I really had no damned idea how badly I had beaten myself up over the last half month until my ass hit the bed sometime that Saturday morning. Two solid weeks working at the Borgata was 100 times worse than the two months at the WSOP plus only a few minutes of sleep from Thursday morning until sunrise Saturday. My ass dropped like a rock the moment I found my actual house/room and didn't wake for many many hours. I awoke to odd sounds in the hallway and every light in my room blazing brightly. Luckily my travel mates were aware enough to let my poor worn out body lie in state, only when it was time to walk towards the sunset and decent food was I lightly nudged from my slumber.

And then the sunset blew donkey balls.

That's some tough shit to do in the Keys but we managed to find the one cloudless, boring sunset in all of Florida. Some brilliant mind in our group made the wise decision to throw up the white flag and beat the crowds to grubbage. Red Fish Blue Fish is located just outside of Mallory Square and they were the beneficiary of our hard earned food monies. Seafood as far as the eye could see with just a little bacon running through my big bowl of pasta. I tried to freak people out on twitter but only caught Katie unawares when I twatted, "Eating fried Dolphin with SpaceFolk and Gainesville Posse". Fresh fried dolphin is fantastic with proper preparation and a little butter.

I'm pretty sure this was Mrs. Spaceman's first of two dozens slabs of Key Lime Pie. By the end of the trip she would be an expert having tasted 99% of the pie on the island. Mayhaps a slight exaggeration.

A belly full of great food and a head satisfied with a dinner with friends, it only seemed natural to walk it all off. Shops and bars as far as the eye can see from that end of Duval Street to our house, plenty of places for the women-folk to be distracted by shiny objects. Saturday night in one of the countries great adult playgrounds, it was time to get down to some serious partying. Drink until the sunrise, pour shots into tiny college girls until their micro-shorts popped off, maybe take home a bartender or two.

What really happened that quiet evening? We pulled up a table on the front porch of our little haunted house and threw chips around with a little low-limit PLO action. It was such a low-key relaxing time, we barely put a dent in the handle of SoCo between Pablo and myself. I dumped the most of any of use when Sweet Sweet Pablo went on a "catchin' quads like it's my job" kind of heater. My phone kept chirping with locals trying to tempt me away from the house into some debauchery but I was having none of it.

Good food, good friends, and good craptastic poker was the order of the day.