FLORIDA, PART DEUX

(I had to do that.)

Florida was a very sedate experience for me. The streets are quiet and tree lined, with beautiful plants that line your way to the golf courses.

One morning, my Sister and I went for breakfast at a place called: “Patches.” As we entered, we noticed that no one was under the age of 75! The place was crowded and loud. A hostess escorted us to our table, and as we were going, I could hear a waitress yelling: “Would you like some coffee?” We continued to follow the hostess, but the yelling continued in my ear: “Would you like some coffee?” As we started to sit, I noticed the waitress was yelling into MY ear! I shook my head in agreement and sat. I figure that she thought I was over 75, and was afraid I might not live long enough to order it. I hate to say it, but it WAS women who were doing the yelling. First I thought it was either the husbands were bad, or the women were just bigmouths. Then it occurred to me that maybe they are all hard of hearing.

I noticed that there is a lot of construction going on down there. They advertise a place to live with a golf course as part of the deal. I would think a better investment would be to sell a place to live and die in. It comes with both a residence and a plot. It wouldn’t matter where you lie down, all will be taken care of. (I can’t believe I wrote that, either.)

We went to dinner one night to a place called: Oaks Open Pit Bar-B-Q. It is a place for good old boys to eat dinner. Ribs and chicken, with beans and slaw, and sauce for your hearts desire, was the standard fare. You sit among the fishing rods, hunting gear and pictures of little boy’s basketball teams mounted on dark panel walls, from the last 10 years that the restaurant sponsored. Patrons are dressed in T-shirts and baseball caps, and hob nailed boots. All the plates are plastic and the napkins thin paper. The menu had one curiosity. It listed a whole rack of baby-back ribs, and a full rack of ribs. My brother-in-law John (The Polish Prince) and my sister and I read it, and John asked the perky waitress what the difference was between “Whole“ and “Full” rack (of ribs). She looked at it for the first time in her life, and said; “ They’re the same thing, y’all. Just another way of saying it.” I suggested that the writer of the menu took a creative writing course.”

That evening I went back to our condo, and I was reading the newspaper. Locally, there was a section called; “Lost & Found” and I wondered what old people lose. I found out soon enough. “There in small print was listed: “Found-One set of dentures.”

Can things get any more tasteless? Wish this blog were in the “Lost and Found” section of your life? Write to: joedelbroccolo@yahoo.com. Get the ball rolling, tell him; “Get Lost!”