Here’s a travel tip for anyone interested in an island getaway for a few days: Catalina dies after about 9PM in the fall/winter seasons. I don’t mean dies like Brigadoon, although it may as well vanish off the face of the planet if I can’t get a goddamn cheeseburger at 9 o’clock. No, it dies more in the way a school would board up it’s doors with all inhabitants hiding inside while Jeffrey Jones (see previous post) goes walking by with a bag of Tootsie Pops. We go into the hotel while the town is bustling with spend-happy tourists, and a few hours later when we’re feeling hungry, the fucking place is locked town tighter than a 15-year-old Mormon girl’s chastity belt. Anyway, after wandering around for a bit, we found the one (count ’em, one!) solitary restaurant that was open on the entire island. It was a little shithole walk-up burger stand, which wound up having some of the best food on the island, which made up for the complete lack of the English language spoken or comprehended by it’s employees.
Anyway, this all lead up to us having the most intriguing conversation I’ve had in recent memory. Being that it was the only open place in town, it was natural that the 6 or seven people who were actually awake would congregate there. As it turned out, a fairly short Texan fellow with a booming Texas accent and a wife who swore in every sentence out of her mouth came sauntering up to the window after us. He and I had a grand conversation, ranging from the peculiarness of California’s anti-smoking laws, to why he beleives pot should be legalized (even though he “doesn’t smoke it….regularly”) and his views on gun control, all in the time it took some chili cheese fries to cook. Then after he told a story about saving a reckless golf cart driving old man from an ass kicking at the hands of a younger kid by using the infamous “Can’t we all just get along”, I remarked at the stunning lack of nightlife on the island after 9PM. He rambled something about the off season, then he pointed to the three hispanic kids who were now ordering food, and decided to ask them if they knew of any night spots.
Texan: “HEY THEYAH SONS! Ya’ll know of any open ress-traunts ‘sides this heyah….”
*Texan notices the complete lack of acknowledgement from the three kids*
Texan: “OH, well ex-CUSE me! They’s is speakin’ ESS-PAN-YOL!”‘
*Texan turns to me*
Texan: “I swear, it’s like they got a GOTT-DAMN word for everythang!”
At this point, the lil’ woman and I lost it. He exclaimed the entire diatribe loud enough for the entire island to hear him, yet the kids still didn’t respond. Too bad for them, because there’s nothing funnier than a racist in a jacket with more colors than a gay pride parade float.
