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Welcome to Live From Key West! This is an Membership/Subscription web site for those who have an interst in Key West. For Business & Incevtment Opportunities, please click here. Below, please enjoy a Key West based story. This material is intended for Adults only. |
| KEY WEST CUTE - IN A BROKEN SORT OF WAY... A Novel about Key West Florida. Written by A. J. Marvin |
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Hello and Welcome to Key West Florida! My Home Town! Founded by Pirates, Murders & Thieves. My name is Michael Donald Roy. Mike Roy to telemarketers. Captain Don to friends and enemies alike. A plethora of Lawyers seem to have this tacky habit of calling me “The Respondent”. I wish they'd quite that…. Reminds me of an old Key West joke: Q: What do you say to a Conch who is wearing a suit and tie? A: "Will the defendant please stand up?" “I have plenty of those if you want some!” A very high pitched, unmistakably feminine, cartoony type of voice yelled up to me. Her image was forever burned into my mind. Every line on her youthful face, every freckle - and there were lots, every fuzzy red her on her head, neck and cheekbones, her off-set eyebrows, that little tiny pouting mouth…. Oh Be Still My Throbbing Heart!! Ah, yes she was…. Cute in a Broken Sort of Way….. She was talking about Mardi Gras beads. I was leaning over the 2nd floor balcony railing of the Cross Hotel. I held a 9 foot wooden pole with a 10 inch Shark hook tie-rapped on the far end. I was doing preventative maintenance tasks at the “Cross”, my current main source of amusement. The Cross is one of the very last old Mom & Pop type of hotel on the island of Key West. This one is Grandfathered into property on Duval street in-between Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville and Hemingway's Sloppy Joe's. My current task was unhooking Mardi Gras beads from off of the telephone lines that were right in front of the Hotel. The beads were from the Gay Pride parade just the week before. As usual it was a half-ass gathering of Key West Characters having Big Fun! Corporate sponsors and everything! And almost 30 floats, although I do use the term Float judiciously. After all, there were at least 2 pickups with plastic tarps in the bed that were filled with water. The stereotypical red neck swimming pool - the mobile version. “I’ll take those three on the end” the voice from below yelled up again. The voice belonged to little Nikki, the owner of the tattoo parlor who rented the storefront below right on Duval. Nikki was the only tattoo artist I ever heard of that didn’t have a single tattoo anywhere on her body. “ZzZZZzZZZ HHHFFFttTTzzZZZZzzz!!!!!” POW!!!! Sparks flew. The piercing crack of electricity snapped it’s ugly snap. I was kind of waiting for that. I always used a wood pole, but there is something in the more expensive Marti Gras beads that tend to conduct electricity really well. One of those obscure facts one picks when being part of running a hotel on Duval Street in Key West. “AAA!! SHIT!!! FUCK!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!!” Nikki screamed as the fiery pieces of plastic beads rained down onto the Duval Street sidewalk. “They’re all yours!” I yelled down. “Fuck You Too” she squealed while escaping to the safety found underneath the awing. Ha! Smooth…. |
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