One Margarita

One margarita, two margarita, three margarita, shot!”

Luke Bryan

This song was ringing in my ears as our waitress at Marker 88 brought me a margarita “to go”- my second at lunch, “per the hubby.” Thanks hubby, I guess. It was wonderful to be out on the water in our boat and then go to lunch, without having to wear masks and surrounded my (mostly) maskless people. To be able to see people’s faces again! Having both had our second vaccination shots well under our belts (and way past the two week mark), we felt free and unfettered at a leisurely lunch in Islamorada.

Since I had my margarita to manage and the line to untie, I put my I-phone in my shorts pocket, untied the front and stepped onto the boat. Plunk! As I stepped onto the boat, my gold I-phone fell into the water. The fact that my storage was full, so a lot of recent photos were not backed up flashed through my mind, as I stripped off my clothes and Apple watch and hopped into the water. I knew approximately where it had fallen, under the dock, but there was also a thick layer of grey sludge on the bottom.

As I was looking frantically, Zeke was motoring nearby. Another boat came up, asked if we were docking or not. Zeke told them I’d lost my phone in the water.

There’s not enough rice in the world to save that phone.

said the older lady onboard.

The young girl on board asked me if it was waterproof. I said I didn’t think so. The two younger people hopped into the water with masks and snorkels to help me look, definitely going above and being the call of neighborly boater’s duty. I told them it was gold and we all were looking under the dock and beyond. I was starting to become resigned to the fact that my I-phone was lost to the deep blue sea, when I spotted a black rectangle. I’d been so focused on looking for a gold phone, it didn’t occur to me that it might have landed face-up. I grabbed it, climbed back onboard and thanked the friendly people for helping me.

It’s still working!

I said, unbelievably.

“Most newer I-phones are waterproof up to 10 feet underwater,” the younger girl explained. Of course, she would know.

The photo of Zeke and I on our boat (my screen saver) stared back at me from the black rectangle. Zeke tried to give them some money to buy them a drink, but they wouldn’t take it and as we pulled out of the Marker 88 dock, a boat coming in shouted “‘Bout Time!” (the name of our boat). Zeke was thrilled; ”Bout Time!” he said back and we motored home. I was wet, but happy; fellow boaters waved to us as we passed.

Can I just say how great it is to go places without masks? And, that since over half the U.S. is vaccinated, we can finally get back to our normal lives? That I don’t have to hold my breath when I pass someone on the street, can stop drying my hands raw with hand sanitizer and don’t have to rely on Instacart on a weekly basis to shop for groceries? That I know, that even if I do get Covid-19, it more than likely won’t be a death sentence? That we all can breath a huge collective sigh of relief that this nightmare, we’ve all endured, is almost over.

It certainly is ‘Bout Time!

Don’t worry ’bout tomorrow

Leave all your sorrow out here on the floatin’ dock.

Luke Bryan

Up Next: Maine, Anthony Bourdain Style

Published by gleeguilford

Born and raised in Miami, the daughter of a pilot and stay-at-home Mom, I love food in all forms. My great grandfather opened the first Italian restaurant in Miami in the 20's, The Boathouse on the Miami river. I love exploring my heritage and linking food and recipes to personal stories. I've been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Food and Love and wrote restaurant reviews and news as the Miami Dining Examiner for three years. I love exploring Miami's latest hot spots, hole in the walls and institutions. I'm always looking for innovative ways to use the plethora of tropical fruits and vegetables South Florida offers, especially from my own garden.

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