The Mafia, Vampires and Us

The Big Guy and I have plenty of time for people watching and we’ve become quite talented, we think, at analyzing people from our vantage point…a beach bar stool.  

Recent conversations have went something like this:

     “See that couple over there?  She’s a Wall Street exec.”

     “Or maybe a doctor,” Big interjects.

     “He doesn’t work, he’s Mr. Mom,” I say. “See the fanny pack he’s wearing?  Animal crackers and Ritalin are in there. And those two kids…they are adopted.”

     “How can you tell that? Big asks me. 

     “Because biological parents do not put that much sunscreen on their own kids,” I say. 

He nods in agreement, recalling that he never once doped up our own kids with sunscreen.

      “See that girl?" he asks me. “She's a vampire. Nobody is that white and she's all shaded up under that big hat and dark sunglasses.”  
     “Ahhh, and see her drink, it's red. I bet she's drinking the V,” I surmise.

This is how a lot of our afternoon conversations go and lordy did we hit the jackpot the other day!

     We were chillin’ at the Pirates Bight on Norman Island and were watching 2 or 3 young people in matching khakis and white shirts which all said Lady Britt on them, bustin’ a hump to wait on 8 or 9 people who were lying around on beach chairs. Fluff a towel here, fill the chip bowl there, rearrange kicked off flip flops. You get the picture. 

     I notice an older gentleman kind of standing back and taking it all in. He was wearing shoes, really nice shoes…on the beach.

     “See that guy,” I whisper to Big, “he’s in the mafia.”

     “How do you know?” Big asks me.

     “Slicked back hair, Ralph Lauren Polo shirt, Italian leather loafers, chain smoking.”

     “How do you know they are Italian leather?” Big wants to know.

     “I know this. I’ve seen Italian leather loafers.  Dr. Lexus has some, and he’s practically mafia.  But I’m not so sure about that watch,” I say. “It look like a Swiss Army Victorinox, which is about 1200 bucks, not a flashy, mobster worthy Rolex.”

     “Maybe he’s just a shoe salesman,” Big says.

I say, “No he’s too shifty, see the gold chain, probably has a cross on it, he’s definitely Catholic so I’m pretty sure he’s a hit man.”

Aristotle Onassis

Authors Note: He kind of looked like this guy,  only without the smile and the neck tie. Now that I think about it, maybe he was a Greek shipping tycoon and not a mobster. 

Naaahhh, I going with mobster...

     









The rest of the conversation went like this:    
     “See that girl?” Big says. “She has a Chanel bag.”  Wow, I’m impressed that he knows that.

     “Knock off?” I ask, looking for it.

     “No, it says Chanel on it…she’s bought something at Chanel.”

     “Good eye.” I reply.

     “All those girls are sisters,” he says. I disagree.  

     “That one is blond and too skinny and the other two are dark. Cute swimsuit though, looks European.”

     “Dye job and anorexic, and that big bow on her suit looks dumb.” he says. I nod in agreement.

We nurse our Painkiller (him) and Carib (me) and watch as three more Lady Britt boys appear with three Seabobs, which are little rocket looking things that you hang on to and they propel you through the water. You can even dive down to about 120 feet with them.
     A couple of the bored looking Greek/Italian mobster kids get up from the loungers and go for a spin on them.

     “We have got to get us two of those,” I say!

     “Ok,” says Big, “Google them and find out what they cost.”

Lady Britt ~ She's just a wee bit grander than Pisces

That evening back on the boat we see Lady Britt pulling out. She’s a big beautiful mega yacht, which explains the uniformed stewards.  I Google Lady Britt, and see that she is a (2010) 206’ Feadship, has a crew of 17, and she takes 12 guests to heaven and back, all for $567K per week. Yes, you heard me right...THOUSAND!  $567,000.00 USD per week. We choke on our cheap wine.

     “Told you they were mafia,” I say. “That old guy was chain smoking because he’s the one writing the check for this little vacation.”

Big tells me to Google Seabob. We find that they go for about $16,000 EACH.
 

     “I have two pretty good kidneys,” I say. “I’d be willing to part with one so we could have a Seabob. We could probably coerce one of the kids into giving up one too.”

     “Ok, which one should we ask?” The Dad who has never applied sunscreen, proving he doesn’t have a favorite daughter, asks me.
     “Hmmm, will flip em for it.” I say.

I set our dinner on the table.

     “Looks good,” The Big Guys says.

     “I’ll bet they aren’t getting spaghetti tonight on Lady Britt,” I say.

Poor bastards.

We smile and clink our wine glasses.

Ahhh, life is good.

I've already posted a recipe for Spaghetti and Meatballs with Marinara Sauce (check it out on the "Pasta" page) so I'll share one that just may even be hoity-toity enough for the poor people on Lady Britt. I made this one up the other night to take to a little party on board Free Ingwe.  

New potatoes with Chive Pesto, Bacon-Blue Cheese Creme & Lemon Zest

(NOTE: Substitute cheddar cheese for blue cheese, if you want.)  
Go to the "Appetizer" page to see the recipe.