Island Drunk

Everyone on island was drunk to some degree. Even the men who swept the streets with those quaint branch brooms would stop every morning at nine a.m. for the first rum break of the day. The natives handled the ever presence of alcohol as a very off handed matter of fact, signs of inebriation where often not seen until late at night when the never ending domino games would become loud and very contentious.

Visitors and aliens did not fair as well. Our town was a liberty port and navy's from around the world would anchor at the long pier and deposit the crew for R&R. Most of the world fleet allows alcohol on board ship. British officers keep a ration in their quarters and the crew has a very convivial pub next to the mess. Only the U.S. Navy serves aboard a dry ship. Enlisted men and officers were very badly behaved on shore. Every evening the shore patrol would scour the back streets looking for the bodies of the terminally drunk sailors. They had a small motorized flatbed carts on which they would stack the inert mariners like cord wood. These boys were an embarrassment. American residents would try to warn them away from the pimps, prostitutes and drug dealers but the idiot kids would get into cars or quickly disappear into back alleys of dubious neighborhoods only to be found robbed and beaten later that evening. The officers were patently rude and horny. They could afford the better bars but offended staff and guests alike with their snide remarks and sexist repartee.

The less affluent young American residents had a benevolent way of dealing with failed compatriots. When a boy or girl became too drunk, unemployable, sad or lost the community would chip in for a one way ticket home to mother. We even helped a couple of gay naval retirees who we watched turn yellow. Mac and Mike drank Heineken from sun up until they passed out in the evening. They were frequently found passed out in the park along the Strand. Mosquitoes got to them and they both came down with the dengue fever. They were often overexposed to the tropical sun and their hygiene wasn't up to snuff. Either the booze or hepatitis C changed their complexion. We convinced them to return to Key West. They hated to leave all the cheap booze but realized their sorry lives were on the line. During my years on island Heineken sold for $4.00 a case and a fifth of the delicious local rum cost a mere $.50.

My friend Oscar was a industrious drunk. Oscar owned the restaurant down the street from my place. From eight a.m. to eight in the evening Oscar was a serious, slightly grumpy Swiss restaurateur. At precisely eight every evening Oscar would crack open his first Miller Lite. It immediately made him happy. Oscar spoke nine languages and could relate to any audience in their native tongue. With a few beers in him, Oscar was funny and engaging. He worked the room of diners with great charm and grace. People from all over the world loved Oscar. He's be getting tipsy about nine p.m. and started the process of closing the restaurant, by ten each evening he locked the doors. On the way home he would stop at my place for a night cap. By that time he was always lit. My business partner, Julio, thought him a spy. I simply loved his company. Being such an accomplished linguist most of Oscar's jokes hinged on some twist of language. Julio was just too dumb to fathom the humor and thought Oscar was talking over his head and making fun of him. Having Oscar show up was a sure way to get rid of my volatile Puerto Rican partner.

Oscar was open every day for lunch and dinner. I only worked the lunch shift three days a week so I would visit Oscar at least twice a week for my noon repast. My usual work day was just as long as Oscar's plus we were open seven days a week to Oscar's six. I did my drinking after work but I usually was so tired I'd be in bed by 11:30. So my hour with Oskie and his girlfiend Sita was the bulk of my social life. Our bartender Indiana Dan was also part of the equation. Dan normally was very dour but Oskie worked hard to get him laughing. With Julio gone we all relaxed and had a great time. Lunch at Oscar's had only one rule. No one could have a morning beer or a drink until he first had a bowl of soup. I liked the serious day time business Oscar as much as I loved the late evening silly drunk.

I only had one evening off each week, this happened to be Indiana Dan's night off too. Half the time we'd find ourselves at Oscar's but we got tired of his euro/Germanic fare so he let us set up a hibachi outside in the parking lot and I'd grill great backyard Island/American fare for Dan, I and our dates. It was almost always surf and turf. Fresh pork, lamb or goat along with exotic grilled whole fish like needle fish, carefully cleaned blowfish, sea urchin or fat parrotfish. Those nights Oscar would lock up a ten as usual but he would lock us all inside and we'd spend the after hour drinking, laughing and enjoying our crazy island life.