Pulp Fiction, part 2

Some more ... I am not sure how to assemble this and I am not sure where its going, but it is kinda fun.  It will be all out of order, I guess just start on the first post and work up hill. :)

Exiting the Terminal, walking out into the bright sunlight, they were met by the clamor of car horns, diesel exhaust and Rasta-rap blaring from a taxi radio.  It took them a minute to acclimate and adjust. They were on a busy commercial strip, signs beckoning for everything from Gold jewelry to Tee Shirts, it was like the entire island population was in search of those tourist dollars. He turned to her, squinting and said, we’ve got to find a place to stay, we need to get some rest…she nodded, still scanning the brightly painted pastel storefronts across the busy street, “look” she said, “take this” handing him an ISLAND LIFE booklet she had grabbed off the newsstand, “take this and get us a table over there, pointing to an open air café, I will meet you there, I have to get some things”. Overcome with exhaustion, it felt good to be given direction, He crossed the street, his hand still holding the small duffle and got a table on the sidewalk under the shade of a faded orange umbrella.

He had finished one Red Stripe while scanning the hotel ads interspersed between articles on scuba expeditions, local history and flashy offshore banking institutions in the ISLAND LIFE.  Tearing a page from the book he was just starting to wonder if she had second thoughts when she appeared, transformed, a blue sundress replaced the jeans and sweater that she had left with, a floppy hat and sunglasses on her head, she grinned as she caught his expression of surprise. He noticed the second duffel was now shoved down into one of those “beach bags” both hands now carrying large shopping bags. “Well, we need to fit in” she leaned over to him as she sat down. He caught a whiff of sweet perfume and for a second he flashed back to that girl he knew those many years ago. “You, you look amazing “was all he could manage before she pushed one of the bags toward him, “I guessed at the sizes” “you need to get out of those clothes” she said nodding at the rest room toward the back of the café.

The neatly dressed waiter returned and she ordered a rum punch and asked for menus, he nodded to another Red Stripe, picked up the shopping bag and headed to the restroom. Digging into the bag, he found a pair of Bermuda shorts, a subdued short sleeve button down, a pair of faux wayfarers and flip flops…OMG, I am Charlie Harper he chucked to himself. Stuffing his “fall in New England” clothes into the shopping bag, he looked into the mirror… ugh, he sighed at the reflection of the man staring back.   “Well, at least the sunglasses hide my baggy eyes”, he ran his fingers through a mess of grey hair, splashed some water on his face and returned back to her.

She was well into the tropical punch as the waiter returned with plates of fresh grouper, lemon slices and plantains.  “Thank You” he said to her over the top of his sunglasses, she laughed, reached over to him, he froze for a brief minute, not knowing how to react,  she leaned in and pulled the sun glasses off, “you left the sticker on” , here she said, handing them back, “now you look like a tourist”.