“Endless sea of boobs!” That was Al’s text back to me when I asked what was happening at the field. My foot pushed a bit harder on the pedal. We were meeting at the baseball field where hours earlier the Atlanta Braves kicked the shit out of Al’s outclassed Philadelphia Phillies, handing them their third straight spring training loss. The game had been over for some time, so I was able to whip in and park right up next to the entrance. I trekked up the stairs leading into the field and could faintly here the band playing. Off in the distance was the Tiki bar where Al said I should find him. I was surprised there was so many people still hanging around drinking. I surmised that the band must be that damn good, or some drunk guy was buying drinks for the entire bar. It was the latter. Of course, you knew that.
Al had stopped replying to my texts about 20 minutes earlier and I half expected to find him slumped over the bar passed out in a pool of chunky Southern Comfort, while several of Clearwater’s finest hauled him to the drunk tank.
“Damnit!” I thought to myself. “I warned him about blowing his wad before I got here! “
Turns out my fears were unfounded. Halfway through my first walk around the bar I spotted Al at the corner of the bar with his beloved cup of Southern Comfort “Neat” (I was to later learn that “neat” meant no ice and that my friends is very important). As I approached Al, I watched him take a big swig of SoCo and then begin furiously texting from his old and beaten flip phone. I took a deep breath, lost the giddy school girl grin, and approached.
“Hey Al, what’s up?”
He briefly looked up from his texting and slurred something to the effect of :
“I’m on a road trip, going to Key West tomorrow, getting drunk, I got this round, whatcha drinking?”
“Ummmm, Vodka Soda”
“Danielle, Vodka Soda for this guy, it’s on me”, Al hollered.
And then went right back to his texting. Hmmmm. Moment of silence as Al continued to text, before I finally said
“Yeah you were right, sea of boobs alright”
A light bulb went off.
“OH Geez!!!”, he said “I thought you were just some guy I was buying drinks for earlier! You’re Decker? I was just texting you! Happy to meet you sir!”
After introductions were complete and another round of drinks were bought, I assaulted Al with a barrage of questions about all my favorite bloggers I read daily. I was relentless. Al happily answered each one, only interrupting me once, while he politely asked the bartender if he could get a better picture of her big fake tits. Of course she obliged (Which reminds me, he promised to send me a copy of that pic and never has!).
Finally the big question. I could wait no longer.
“ummmm Al, is Iggy , uhhhhmmmm well you know, is, is he really a little person?”
Al threw back another a gulp of SoCo and thought for a moment before picking up his antique flip cellular device and hitting a speed-dial.
“No fucking way”, I muttered under my breath.
Al said a few words to the person he called then tossed the phone to me, as he turned back to the bar I hollered, “Al who the hell is this?”,
With his back to me and his face buried in silicone, he bellowed “Say hi to the blog father”…..
To be continued. I gotta be up before the crack of dawn and will be driving from one end of Florida to the other.