A Blue lunch

Cap Juluca beach

The beach in front of Blue at Cap Juluca. Photo by David Lansing.

I am having a hard time getting out of bed every morning. Is it the heat of the day? The air-conditioning at night? The cocktails? You’re right—probably the cocktails. By the time I make it down for lunch (breakfast is impossible), everyone else is finished. Bail-Out has staked out a lounge chair on the beach and is working on his tan. T-Bone is walking along the shore collecting shells (I hear she gets up by six every morning, which is just crazy). The Man—I never really know where The Man is. And I’m not sure I want to. Only Luscious and Mrs. Poopsie are still at our table in Blue, working on a glass of champagne or a rum punch.

I order a lobster roll and a Carib. Luscious and Mrs. Poopsie watch me eat. No one says anything. It’s…just…so …relaxing.

The restaurant closes. The servers come by and take away the salt and pepper shakers, the condiments, our placemats. The bar is closing shortly, they say, would we like anything else?

We look at our watches. It’s almost four. Dinner is in three hours.

“Do you want another rum punch?” Luscious asks Mrs. Poopsie.

“Are you going to have one?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“Well, if you’re going to get one I might as well, just to keep you company.”

“Give us a round,” says Luscious.

“You too, sir?” the server asks me.

“Sure. Why not.” After all, it’s almost five.

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