Scanning decades old photos from the pre-digital era is a strange bit of drudgery that can leave a person over stimulated and emotional, drained, tired with a crick in the neck . . . and hungry as hell. I guess it showed in my body language when I shlumped up to Buck’s work space around 1:00 o’clock Tuesday afternoon. “I think I’m going to fix a veggie burger. Want something?” (I swear the man is an air plant.)
He glanced at me, refocused and looked more intently, then put down his pen. “Let’s go to the waterfront and get a crab cake,” he said.
“Now?” I mean, I was really hungry. “I’ll need twenty minutes just to get ready.”
He continued to fix me with those wise, steady eyes.
“Well,” I broke and smiled. “Maybe fifteen.”
What can I say? The man knows things. Like when I’m overwrought and overworked and need some fresh air and a break from my self-imposed projects. He knew what he was looking at and he knew just the medicine.
The Oar House is a local fish house and drinking place for locals, tourists and boaters. It sits on Bayou Chico at the mouth of Pensacola Bay and shares views and water access with MarineMax Pensacola at Bahia Mar. Pensacola Yacht Club is just down the way. It’s a great spot to hang out. No need to take a chill pill. It comes with the soft January breeze. Still shorts and tees weather, but pleasantly cool under the shady Tiki roof. At 2:00 p.m., the crowd is gone. Just the way we like it.
Yeah, I see the brown edge on a lettuce spear and there’s too much iceberg in the mix for my taste, but the crab cake is hot and freshly made with just enough binder to hold the Blue crab meat together. I drizzled on the mango dressing and enjoyed every bite. Marina life reminds us that perfection is over-rated. It’s the moment that counts.
I must have been a marina mouse in a former life. Or maybe we all feel at home in such places, where adventure still seems possible and the pull of the outgoing tide is strong.
Daily Word Prompt: overworked