President's Day Zaf (2008) - Part 2

Oh, the rigors of a brotherhood zaf: we finally got some sleep Thursday night. A deep charge of the personal storage batteries helped get us ready for the first official day of the President’s Day Zaf. With nothing formally planned for the day, some twisted member of our group suggested we go to Key West for the afternoon. "Wait a minute." I thought to myself, "Didn’t we just get back from there last night?" I voiced my question to the group. I was informed that this would be a good day for a Duval Street crawl. I couldn’t deny the pleasurable day that had broken over the Keys: lots of sun, a few clouds, reasonable winds and temperatures in the high 70's. "Alright." I agreed. "But I’m not driving today." The girls assured me that they were fine - even happy - to navigate and pilot the car. We left at 11:30 AM...back on the road, headed south.

We found a place to park and struggled with the cruise ship tourists on Duval Street. They were hungry and the restaurants and bars were hopping. We dined at the Cheese Burger of Key West. The waitress, an ex-cruiser, talked me into a double key lime margurita in a plastic pineapple complete with a slot on the top. The idea was to turn it into a piggy bank to start saving for my next trip to the Keys. But it was the fact that I could bring it back, anytime, and get a double margurita for the price of a single that convinced me to part with the $5.95 cost of the plastic pineapple. Before I left, I had it refilled. It was already paying dividends. I was already feeling its effects.

We made our way back to the west side of Duval Street and spent a few minutes sitting on the seawall, watching the boats and discussing how nice it would be to be down in the keys on our own bottoms. Someday in the future. Hopefully the near future. Back in the car, we headed north. We didn’t want to be late for the Friday night reunion at Steve and Lori’s house.

As we exited the car at Steve and Lori’s, we could hear the revelry of the brothers that had already arrived. Limey and Holly arrived as we did. We had read their accounts of the cruise south but had not seen them in five months. As soon as the door opened, we were welcomed by brothers from near and far. It would be a good night.

Lori was moving rapidly in her kitchen: double time this year as the help she thought she had arranged had not materialized. The food arrived on time but, she did not slow down for most of the evening. After most of the food had been served, she took some time to don her pirate gear to tell us about the costume party she and Steve had recently attended. Her red wig reminded me of Sherry from the night before but there was a difference: her new hair was red AND curly. She was HOT!

I was impressed by the attendance from the newest US Table. The new brothers from the Solomon’s Table were well represented. A stalwart group of rabble raisers from the Chesapeake Bay. I chalked it up to the good living of the Bay and reflected on what a good addition they were to the "‘hood."

We ate and drank well, once again confirming that, unlike the pirates of the late 17th century, no one ever starves at a brotherhood event. Shortly after the briefing on Saturday’s events, people started disappearing as "Marathon Midnight" approached. Our party headed to Orza, tied up behind Snapper King and Margie’s house. It is always the last party of the evening. After a nightcap, we headed home for some rest. Saturday was almost at hand.