Tea, Taxi, Top


I got to catch my second mini-roach critter and release it outside in hopes that the birds would eat him, but I think the bird parents murdered their eggs by throwing them on the ground and leaving three puddles of unpoached babies on the pavement by the pool. I was taking our recyclables to the base as the station for plastic bottles, cardboard, and aluminum on the corner off base is always overflowing. I see the want is there but the need hasn’t been fully met and since I only have a tiny bit to bring I can collect a hundred other bottles to bring with me, even if most of them are still full of water.

Besides all the death and disregard, I was invited for a tea or coffee at the corner taxi station and I took a cup of Bahraini coffee (one scoop into the pitcher with some saffron) — even if it meant that one of the guys moved to their covered area to escape my calves (they can be intimidating). I talked with Jay and after his 18 years on this corner he has learned a lot about the Navy and the personality of its inhabitants while he cooks and plays games and waits to tote the crew between base and bar, both places allowing the sailors to consume alcohol until they’re out past curfew.


Caleb and I would spend the night playing Skip-Bo past his bedtime because after years of playing intermittently he has finally hit a winning streak and besides our walks, it’s a nice way to unwind and listen to an annoying radio host that you used to kind of know (enough that she got invited to Caleb’s birthday party) as she seems to get jobs all over the island but that hasn’t rid her of the over-the-top morning personality that oozes from her, which is also a nice thing about her.

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