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Mollie at Holmes Beach

October 2003


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Mollie trades her time for money at Bongos serving food on the lake. Hilarious characters with names like Toast, Pork Chop (Bitch Tits), Dirty, Sky, Zolton, and Ezio also trade at Bongos and the Jet Ski shop next door.
Sky was born and raised on this island, Santa Maria Island, but gleaks the colorful lingo of a tall inner city prangster: 
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On any given day when I am referred to as dawg it feels uncomfortable, but Sky is really convincing.  I even look forward to it: gimme the dawg comon comon comon.
Mountain Dew is golden delicious off the tap.  But if you want a crazy drink, Ezio is your man.
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You see, I'm sure, Ezio made me have sex with an alligator; it was the most delightful liquor concoction that has ever crossed my path.  It sits in a few layers, and has 8-odd ingredients.  The top and bottom layers are sweet and sour, and the middle is more or less jaeger'y.
Ezio tends to take over bartending at bars where he's not employed, or even start cooking at Denny's if you get umpteen in him.  You'd think he'd get thrown out, but that's not always the case.  His bar and kitchen skills are way up there.  He's been cooking in Philly kitchens since he was a wee lad, and has a story even for occasions that don't arrise.
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One story I heard was: On one of Pork Chop's interviews at a restaurant, he startled the owner by walking into a whip cream licking orgy at 3 in the morning.  He got the job though.  By the way everyone, I don't condone calling him bitch tits really, it doesn't seem very nice.
Mollie never makes you feel rushed.
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Sometimes she doesn't go out until really late.  There's a real dive bar in town called Mr. Bones, where you can drink late late late.  It's also a barbeque place.  Real shady.
In her beach shack on the island, there's a lime green ashtray that is meant to be suspended from the ceiling.  Kind of retro.  A matching clock tocks on the wall without much of a tick.
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Once Sky and this real drunk guy were over, and I was there too, and so was a guy named Zolton.  The drunk guy didn't want to pay his fair share.  He had Tommy Hilfiger or Nautica on also.  The fair share was a dollar or two.  "It's not about the dubs, it's about respect," explained Sky. 
It seemed like there was going to be a fight.  But there wasn't.  So it goes.
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La la looo.  There is time for everything here.  The sun sets really slow.
And when it does, Bongos throws a wild reggae party, and the photographer dances.
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At the risk of having a meta-discussion of my own tone, I apologize for squirting out such a typical tone onto your toothbrush, but the relaxing, ordinary, atmosphere on the island was secretly bursting with flavor crystals and three striped tubular color.
There are two roads onto the island.  This one is Manatee Ave looking out from Bongos deck.
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