I am back in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Bahamas</st1lace></st1:country-region> again. It seems like I spend way too much time over here but that’s where my work takes me. I am a gregarious person and I do not believe that I have ever met a stranger. The people that work and live in <st1lace w:st="on"><st1laceName w:st="on">Freeport</st1laceName> <st1laceType w:st="on">Harbor</st1laceType></st1lace> now all know me and ask about my family and if I enjoyed my visit home. They are glad to see me return and tell me that they have missed me and it makes me feel good that so many people in a foreign country have let me into their lives. The little fat Bahamian woman at the Rake and Scrape Café brings me fresh conch fritters, the best I have ever had, while I am waiting on my lunch to be prepared. I have ordered a tuna sandwich with a salad or a bowl of soup, because I am beginning to get a bit of a tummy and have been carefully watching my diet. I silently promise myself an extra 100 crunches tonight but in truth, will probably go to the movies instead and just eat popcorn for dinner. I ask her if she has ever watched anyone catching conch? She has. I asked her how far do they have to chase them? She laughs again when she over-hears me tell one of my South African divers to try the grits because they grow them here and they are really fresh. Teneile, the bar tender at the Seaman’s Rest, hugs my neck when she sees me and asks about my puppies and that makes me feel good. If you want to put me in a good mood, just mention Bug or my puppies and I’ll smile every time without fail. I debate about walking the other direction back to my automobile, because it will take me around the Devine Ice Cream Shoppe. I love ice cream; it is a comfort food and no matter how badly my day is progressing, two scoops of chocolate in a cup with a coke will make it all better. It is like when you are a child; no matter how bad the booboo, ice cream will take the tears away and make it better. The little lady at the ice cream shop knows how my day has progressed by what ice cream I order. I especially liked a flavor called Superman; it was a bright red, royal blue, and canary yellow concoction that tasted a lot like raspberries and I liked the colors until I had it for three days in a row and found myself pooping royal blue turds. The ice cream lady is there from morning until well after dark every day except Sunday. Her daughter opens the shop on Sunday so the ice cream lady can go to church. There is always music playing in the ice cream shop. You would expect a little Bahamian woman to be listening to something with a bit of island flavor but that is not the case. She is a devout fan of blue-grass music and if it is religious blue-grass, so much the better. She dances and sings along with it all day and probably doesn’t sell 20 ice cream cones in an entire work day unless it is on a day when the cruise ships are in port with their cargo of retirees and honey-mooners. The weather has been much too cool to enjoy ice cream for the past several days; combine that with my blossoming tummy, I have not been wanting ice cream lately and it made me feel bad that I would walk out of my way to avoid the ice cream lady. I changed directions and walked by her shop. She was wrapped tightly in an over-coat and clapping her hands while singing along with Allison Krause and Union Station. She stops singing and rushes over and hugs me and say she is so glad to see me and I tell her it is a bit cold for ice cream and she pouts and says “I know; nobody wants any ice cream.” She asks if I enjoyed my visit with my family and it struck me as funny that I used to visit the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Bahamas</st1lace></st1:country-region> but now, when I leave for a while, I am visiting my family. I glanced at the chocolate and down at my belly and remembered the conch fritters so I ordered a coconut water and she pouts again and says “No ice cream?” She is so cute; grey streaks through her hair and these really large dark brown moles all over her face would make most people look away if she were not so animated and that wonderful smile that can only belong to someone that has discovered the miracle of healing booboos. I took a twenty dollar bill out of my pocket and gave it to her. I told her to buy the next ten people that walked through that door, an ice cream cone on me. She laughed like a seventy year old child of six and said ,”You know!...You know!”
