No Final Whistle

I had a lot on my mind. This would be my last weekend in Key West and my last set of gigs in the Carousel Bar. I sat in with the Carousel’s house country and western band on Friday night and Saturday night. They liked my guitar picking and singing and I liked their style. I’d miss them. My guitar picking however, had taken a back seat to the heretofore, biggest surprise of the day. The “big surprise” was the early morning arrival of my cousin Marti and one of her friends. The two girls had breezed into Key West to hear me play. Both girls were enrolled in a finishing school of some kind in West Palm Beach. After I had welcomed Marti and her friend, Jill, to the Navy base, Marti had asked me to find them a couple of escorts. At the last minute, I had been able to fix the two girls up with a couple of base UDT (Navy Seal) instructors. The two instructors were friends of mine, and, in my book anyway, were ok guys. Now, the only guessing game left was what kind of a reception I’d get from Kay. I stopped, lit a cigarette and looked down the sidewalk. The Top Kick Bar was in its familiar spot-the last building on the next block. The sun was getting low, the air was hot and sticky and I needed a beer. I’d do my drinking however, in the Carousel Bar-I didn’t want to chance another fight with Kay. I reached the Top Kick Bar, opened the door and went in.