Party Tardy - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 295

oh-so-strategically over their shoulders, and encountered the butcher from the local super-
market flirting with their pudgy, seemingly-virginal niece Flora.
They seemed to unbend ever-so-slightly, when I handed them martinis, and by the time
they'd made their way across the crowded room to say hello to Flora, they appeared almost
human.
But then they noticed that Flora was flirting back.
Determined not to miss anything, I followed close on their heels, and as they gazed
with dismay at the spectacle of their niece consorting with the Working Classes, I leaned
over.
“Never underestimate a man who can carve up a crown roast, even if he only has eight
and a half fingers.” I remarked.
Their smiles would have frozen hell itself.
☼ ☼ ☼
We were determined to be equally egalitarian in the composition of the guest list for our
Vieques housewarming party.
Oddly, it was the inviting part that was tough. In D.C. we would've simply emailed
everyone a casual note of invitation. But we didn't have email addresses for most of the
people we knew in Vieques. We doubted that many of them even had a computer.
So we'd have to call them. No big deal. But wait. We didn't have phone numbers for
most of them either. Or, for that matter, last names.
I realize it may seem strange that we didn't have contact information for a large per-
centage of people we were considering inviting to our little shindig, but that was part of
island life. You knew lots of people, but you didn't necessarily know how to reach them, at
least through conventional means.
If you needed them, you'd ask a friend of a friend to tell them to give you a call. Or
you'd wait a few days and sure enough you'd run into them in the supermarket line or bel-
lied up to the bar in your favorite restaurant in Esperanza, and you'd ask them to stop by
the next week to take a look at your hot water heater.
Take Pablo, for instance, the guy who had worked so hard to finish our downstairs when
Steve got sick. We couldn't imagine having the party without him and yet we had no idea
how to reach him.
Or the charming Lithuanian waiter who had served us the night Jonah encountered the
iguana in his bedroom. We'd heard he no longer worked at the same restaurant. How on
earth would we ever track him down?
Jane, of course, was the crucial link (as she so often was) for many of these would-be
guests. For the rest, we'd just have to get creative.
☼ ☼ ☼