The walk on the beach left me parched and a bit chilled. I stumbled into a defunct laundromat to warm myself by a dryer…only to find out it was no laundromat. It was…and likely still is since I left it only moments ago…a bar! Uncle Duke’s Beach Bar in fact.
The bartender, Carl, greeted me with a cold draft beer and I immediately needed to relieve myself ….yep…that is how happy I was. I found a place to park my backside and enjoyed the cold beverage. Soaking up the ambiance I couldn’t help but notice the door monitor that I failed to notice when I entered. ..A 5-foot hand-carved and painted Tiki.
I offered the Tiki my beer but it refused to speak with me. Maybe it doesn’t like the draft Stone Pale Ale. Maybe it was just me. I fear that, like the Brady Bunch in Hawaii, I may have cursed my brother with an early demise. If I did…I’m sure I’ll hear about it.
Patron Indian Joe, aka Hot-Lips, was kind enough to buy a round of beers and offered nourishment in the form of corn chips and some sort of jalapeno dip…
I enjoyed my evening and the company of my new friends.