Our family has the reputation for being incessantly late. My dad grew up in a family of nine kids, and it takes awhile to get that many people together. I have noticed that this is a genetic characteristic that gets passed down the generations.
Case in point: At about four p.m. yesterday Amanda asked me if I wanted to go into downtown Boca for a coffee. She was lagging a little bit after staying up for 36 hours straight the day before. My aunt Anne and uncle Dale decided to go along. When we finally got rounded up and out the door, we decided to take a golf cart (the traditional form of transportation on the island). But of course, we had to make a stop at the other house, where we just happened to arrive in time for the sunset.
We all piled back onto the cart, but only made it a block before we saw Grandpa and Grandpa driving the opposite direction. They were just arriving, so we had to get in the hugs.
At this point, the golf cart was about to die, so we headed to Uncle Jimbo's, who owns the cart. There we ran into some old friends of the family, who we updated on all of the family's whereabouts.
After that, we walked to the restaurant/coffee house. But they don't serve espresso. Our only shot was a bar called "The Temptation," the waitress told us.
This is a popular place my uncle used to work at for years, with numerous liquor bottles and signs lining the walls, including one that said "I can resist everything but temptation." When we asked the bar tender (whose name is "Snake") for a latte, he gave us a withering look and said "Keep on looking." Then he served up four gin and tonics. This was about 8 p.m., four hours after the expedition began.
So much for coffee.
Lesson learned: It's not possible to find a drink like a latte on this island, especially at the rate we move.
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