by Ray Jason
A FICTIONAL EXPLORATION
The bartender gave me his nod that indicated something interesting was headed our way. I turned and watched as an old, but impeccably maintained wooden dory, approached the dock. At her oars were four attractive young people – two women and two men. In her stern was the Captain. I assumed this because he had the calm, confident air of one familiar with the joys and ordeals of command. He cordially said good-bye to his oarsmen and joined us at the bar.
“I’ll go out on a topsail yard and guess that you are from the tall ship anchored out there.”
“Indeed, I am. And I must say that this place looks as pleasant as my scouting party described her to me.”
“Are you saying that “Semester-at-Sea ships are now teaching waterfront bar reconnaissance as part of their curriculum?”
“It’s not a formal course, but it fits nicely into the Life Skills category. But they outdid themselves. Not only did they find a spot with the front on the water, but ALL SIDES are on the water. She is a genuine floating bar.”
“And a relaxed and friendly one as well. Allow me to buy your first round. Might I suggest our excellent local rum with a chaser of one of our fine local beers?”
“You buy ‘em - you pick ‘em”