Ruth works as a family
assistant and nanny for a guy with ties to the hotel and casino
industry in Vegas, NYC, Miami, and a variety of other hot nightspots.
Everything is top shelf in his world, and in hers too when she is
working. Right now she's in Miami, playing nanny when needed but
mostly on standby, living life among the rich & famous. She
called to let me know that she plans to rent a car and drive up to St
Augustine for a visit on Monday, but first she has to fly down to the
Bahamas for the weekend. They will be staying on a private island
owned by a friend of her boss.
Maybe the good stuff
skips a generation. When I was her age I was driving a cab in
Washington, D.C. One of my regular fares, a large woman with poor
hygiene, kept her change in her mouth where teeth had once resided.
When it was time to pay I would hand her a big wad of paper towels
for her to spit the coins into. That's the kind of crowd I ran with.
I was about to point
out that I have never even been to the Bahamas, but that's not true.
Carla won a four day cruise from some cheap promotion about fifteen
years ago. It sounded like a little slice of hell to me but I went
along with it to please her. The ship was small, old, dirty and
filled to the brim with people who generally fit that same
description. Things didn't go well. In fact, I was on the verge of
having assault charges filed against me when the entertainment
director put his hands on me one too many times, trying to pull me
away from the bar and into a circle of large, gaudily sequined women
all juiced up into a frenzy, doing the Macarena under a hopelessly
outdated mirror ball. Sweaty celebrants stirred up a sickening breeze
heavy with the scent of FDS and bad perfume. I escaped up to the main
deck, desperate for fresh air, but all I got was diesel fumes as that
old tug labored along.
Like I said, I think
the good stuff skips a generation sometimes...
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