Breakfast and a boat ride

This is a shitty picture from my cellphone, I ran out of batteries in the camera. It is the view from the patio at Jorge's. It tried to get the surfers, but they must have passed when I was trying to work this damn thing.



Morning comes with a warm breeze and the smell of rich coffee. Our room is right over the bar, the balcony is shared with the room next door. I don’t remember how I got up here, or when. I am amazingly clear headed after drinking so much. That is one of the amazing things about Jorge’s tequila… it doesn’t leave you hanging like that cheap shit those surfers were drinking. This is evident when I step out on to the balcony.
I look to my left to see two of the guys we saw down at the bar last night. They are wrecked. One of them had puked all over himself sometime during the night. He is still out. The other looks at me with an _expression that one might have with his head secured tightly in a vise.
“Dude.”
“You okay?” I watch for a response. He nods.
“How ‘bout your buddy?”
Surfer looks at his buddy and gives me the report. “Still breathing, dude.”
“Good.” I can hear a conversation downstairs. I turn to see that Jerry isn’t in the room. I walk to the end of the balcony and see that the truck is back. Cool, the day is in motion. Before I turn to walk down stairs I can hear someone in the surf whooping it up. From the my vantage point I can see some of this guy’s buddies out there riding a few of the medium waves. They will be out there all day, and this guy with them. Even his buddy as soon as he can stand. They are addicted to it.
“Better get out there, man. Your bro’s are going to catch all the good waves and call you two pussies for sleeping it off.”
“Hear that, asshole, get up.” He shoves sleeping beauty and gets him to open his eyes.
“Let’s catch a ride, man. Get up.”

I leave them to the task and head downstairs. Jerry must have heard me talking because he has a cup of joe poured for me when I reach the bar. You can smell breakfast now; onions, eggs, chorizo, hashbrowns, ohhh man. I look out to the ocean through the scrub trees and see one of the surfers whip by, followed by another.
Jerry gives me a nod but doesn’t break the pace of conversation he is having with Jorge. I hear boat, and federales, which can’t be good. I call to whoever is cooking in back and another of Jorge’s daughters come out, I think it is Angelina, but after last night I don’t trust my memory.
“Angelina?”
She breaks a sweet smile for me and I know I am right.
“Querría el desayuno por favor.” I do know the important spanish, like how to ask for breakfast.
She nods and then goes in the back, repeating my order to whomever is cooking. She returns to the bar, “Más café?”
I nod this time. She fills my cup and then over to Jerry and fills his. I watch as Jerry gives Jorge a two handed shake, and then he waves me over.
“Buenos días, Jake.”
“Good morning to you, Jorge.” I take a deep breath, “Breakfast smells good.”
“Maria is cooking.” He smiles. Nothing more to be said on that note.
The two surfers stumbled down the stairs and into the bar area. Jerry scooted in closer while the two of them asked for some coffee.
“Jorge says that there are a lot of Feds… Nationals, on the roads in Santa Cruz Huatulco. Fox and some of his cabinet are here for a World Energy Conference or some shit like that. He thinks we’ll get popped if we drive that old heap into the city.”
Just then Angelina brought out two steaming plates of the breakfast special and set them down in front of us. The one surfer turned, the one without the vomit on his shirt, and held a finger up, “I’ll take one of those.” His buddy lept to his feet and ran off around the back of the building, you could still hear him though. Even that wasn’t going to spoil this breakfast. I dig in and listen to Jerry.
“So Jorge is going to have his cousin pick us up in a boat and take us to the city. He knows they guy I trade with, so he will take us there from where ever we dock the boat. Cool?”
“Sounds alright to me. We need to get some beer for the ride.”
“Necesitamos cerveza para el paseo del barco.” He calls in to Jorge, who acknowledges him. Jerry nods, “Not a problem.”

Jorge’s cousin is here within the hour and we walk down the beach to a neighboring resort that has a small dock. Jorge comes with us for a proper introduction.
We climb on board a small runabout and Jorge makes the introductions from the dock. We tell him we will be back this afternoon and he tells us that we are having roasted pork for dinner. Oh… man, I love this place
“Cuide delos.” Jorge calls as we pull away from the dock. I turn to Jerry.
“Take car of them.” He says to me.

As usual, Jerry starts in on a conversation that I don’t understand. It is like being in the cheap seats at the United Nations.
I get little bits of it. I spend my time putting the six beers into Pietro’s ice chest. He is a nice guy. He is short, and missing a finger on his left hand. You gotta wonder what that is all about. He looks all of twenty. Good lookin’ kid, probably gets a lot of pussy. Well, maybe not if the girl is freaked out about the finger.
“Pietro says he has to head back this way around three o’clock.” Jerry takes the beer I just opened out of my hand and makes it his.
“Help yourself.”
“He is going to drop us right at the marina and we will have a good four hours to make our transaction and then do our shopping.” Jerry took a long pull off of his beer and handed me the empty.
“You in a hurry?” I pulled another from the foam ice chest.
“Hey, I’m not flying or driving.” He cracked the beer and took half of it in one gulp.