However, the beach wasn't the last thing we did on the island. The last thing we did was find another roadside stand. Fresh locally caught mahi-mahi, I'm in. Oh, wait, fresh out. Well, guess I'll have to suffer through ordering the tuna.
We were also provided with a show, as a middle aged homeless beach bum harassed everyone for money, until the very sweet proprietor gave him some rice. I thought my meal was delic, Kat wasn't quite so happy with hers. It was one of the stinkiest, best tasting sandwiches I have ever had. We wrapped it up and took the leftovers to the airport, just flooded the car, the shuttle, and the terminal with an odor of butter fried garlic. We weren't allowed to take it through security, so I housed it and gave the line a second shot. It was at this point that it dawned on Kat that she'd be stuck next to some jackass with garlic breath for an eight hour flight.
The End,
jon
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