Scarlott Letters

Just some stuff I find funny…

Highway to Hell (aka Be Careful What You Wish For )

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It’s been hard to write a blog the last couple of days because we’ve been so laid back that it’s been hard to find something interesting to write about. We remedied that today. We dropped Tres and Joe at Sharkbites so that Tres could get another cup of “the best coffee in the world,” which he claims to have drunk there on our last trip to Turks and Caicos five years ago. We took the other three guys to the golf course for a round and the girls headed for Chaulk Sound.

Our first mistake was allowing Cheryl to navigate after “two” drinks. Did you know that if you refill your first drink it still counts as only having one drink? There are a lot of people who will be delighted to hear this news. By that standard, I’m still on my first drink. Anyway, we ended up going in the wrong direction, until we stopped and asked a utility worker if we were going the right way and he looked at us like we were crazy and pointed in the opposite direction. Not wanting to take just one local person’s word for it, we continued on in the wrong direction for several miles, until we hit water and were forced to turn around.

Once we were going the right direction, Cheryl decided that we should take the scenic route…and boy was it scenic. Upon reflection, the end of the paved road should have been our first clue that maybe we should turn around and go the less scenic route. Common sense did not win out and we ended up going cross country in a ten passenger van, expecting to pop a tire any moment. The road was so rough Cheryl was worried about losing her “headlight covers.” We had a swamp to one side and burned out bullet ridden cars on the other. I started composing a goodbye note to the kids just in case we didn’t make it out alive, which looked more likely by the minute. It was that kind of neighborhood.

Trash heavily littered both sides of the road, but on the bright side we might have found an icemaker to replace the broken one at the house. The last straw was a pair of abandoned platform high heel shoes among the trash that looked to be a very large size. Afraid that the body belonging to those size fifteens might be around there too, we turned around and skeedaddled…as much as you can skeedaddle going 5 miles per hour through potholes and over boulders.

As soon as we got back to pavement, Denise called Tres and told him we were on the way to Sharkbites and there had better be five pina coladas waiting when we got there. And there were. Also, Sharkbites was not where Tres got the best cup off coffee in the world. It might have been at a coffee shop around the corner…or it might not have even been on Turks and Caicos at all. Guess he’ll keep looking.

When the Dave, Eddie and Keith got back from golf, we headed for Da Conch Shack to celebrate making it through the day in one piece. To say the portions were large would be an understatement. Dave’s meal was, honest-to-God, served in a pink 5 1/2 quart Le Cruset dutch oven. We could have just ordered one of those for the whole table. It was all we could do to waddle back to the van afterwards. We never did make it to Chaulk Sound…at least not yet.

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