Our Man in Antigua

‘post mortem’ more likely describes the morning… ‘never thought I’d get sick of fireworks but if I hear one more ‘crackaboom mortar’ shell…’had the bright idea…talk a walk, have some caffeine and sugar…nope…launched the first ‘cubanita’ of the new year…..tomato juice, rum, hot sauce, woostershire and pepper…’can’t figure out the cause for my malaise…yep, three, nope..four different brands of vodka…bad ice, probably…

there wasn’t room for any more cars,much less people in town last night, but that didn’t stop anyone..records were broken as were bottles…does the phrase ‘debris field’ mean anything? damn good thing they didn’t allow the usual New Year’s Eve event on upper 5th, eh?  hah…as if..even Kafka was doing biz…Restaurant Roadkill, amazingly dead…no room in the patio or the roof terrace at the O/lot-Pangea complex…Pangea? record night….had to rent tables for the terrace, party of twenty…F2 slammed, El Caminante boiling over…the delightful Miss G and son Rico side by side, cranking borscht…Peter the G, getting over a cold…and running a successful biz..El Muro empty early…no groups of 5 showing up for the free bottle of rum?

at the stove

 

 some of the wait staff at Reilly’s didn’t know about the 6am thing…I bailed on the Panza Verde thing…too crazy getting there from my end of town to there…my apologies.

the brain cells

 

 hasta la vista, 2010…