Sequal to Despacito

John C. Chance had a fatiguing morning... poor John.... Poor Poor John, aggravating himself over other peoples problems... it should really be no consequence to his well being he thought ......... or maybe he just needed to exercise better cooperation  self control and caring for all the dear others.......

It was so nice when he pulled into the old park by the Bahia Honda Bridge.. he could only imagine the multitude of good times he and thousands of others over the last 90 plus  years had experienced in what he now referred to as 'The Hole'  the old abandoned roadside park...............in use years before the new highway was constructed... with inferior concrete , always blowing out and being patched...

He strung his hammock between the upper door jam of his tired little truck with a  Silver topper and bald tires... and a broken tail light lens.. he loved that little truck so....  line tied to one of the lower branches of the nearby Gumbo Limbo tree... he had to climb up off of the elevated concrete slab and into the crotch of the tree  full of empty beer bottles , his blue worn flip flops on careful not to slip he slung the parachute cord that came with the hammock over the branch... it reminded him briefly of a noose..... thankfully  a fleeting thought  he then hooked the carabiner clips to either end.. and climbed into the two person hammock...   alone and let out a glorious lengthy sigh..............

5- 10 minutes elapsed into his bliss  before  three vehicles simultaneously pull in... ... two pickups and a mini van... out pours a band of Cubans...... soon the stove is out and lit and the frying pan is full of oil...  a tubby cuban woman is now resting on the slab just beneath his hammock sprawled out in  the position of a  resting dog.... his sandals  inches away from her back... how unusual he thought to himself.... I guess their culture does not recognize personal space as such.....as  in American Society... or his version of it,  They his own personal Space Invaders......... well it was a Park... after all he offered himself...  reasoning.  They were just having a good time....

Then the beautiful music began.....  the Song Despecito rumbled out of the speakers all distorted as the amplifier overpowered the woofers....  Nice.... he though to himself.... the oil was  now popping and in went the undersized snapper and cute little lobster tails............. perfect for a chilled jumbo shrimp cocktail .....  he murmured  to himself.

It was now time for John  C. Chance to go home and sit in the air conditioning and write down this account and bitch about the Wi Fi  faulting  in and out..... that is being stolen  from over at the  neighbors.

the  Sequal to Despacito.