Gator Country

Eagle Lake: Rick’s Biker Bar

Rick welcomes me in and offers me a beer. Joshua, their adopted son, is excited to see me. I tell him I just got in from California. He asks if I drove the red car all the way from there. I explain that it’s a rental but I’m not sure if he gets the concept, he’s kinda young.

Rick says I just missed Carol, but she should be back from the school about 9:30. (She’s an art teacher) He gives me the nickel tour of the house, then we go outside to the game room, an addition he’s built. It’s a big air-conditioned room, has a pool table, pinball, dining table, stove, sink, loft for sleeping. Josh is having fun, playing pool with one of the neighborhood kids, using half a cue (he’s too little to use a full stick). “This room used to be a tool shed,” Rick says, “I just expanded it a little bit.”

Outside of the room is another addition, an outdoor bar with a sink and fireplace. The bar has a keg tap made out of old Harley handlebars, beer pours out of a carburetor. Rick lights a fire to keep the skeeters at bay, and pours us a couple drafts from the tap. The beer is kinda flat though, so we settle for ones from the fridge. “Gotta get a fresh keg tomorrow,” Rick says.

We hang out at the outdoor bar, drinking and commiserating about the “joys of married life” for a while. Rick is happy living in Polk County, he’s got this house on the lake, and a pretty good air conditioning business that he runs. My sister is an artist; she’d like to live in Tampa or Vero, somewhere with more culture, where she would be able to sell her work. Central Florida is redneck country; not exactly a “fine arts” hot spot. The locals are good people, but not the type to hang $500 paintings on their walls when they can buy a framed print on sale for $20 at Walmart. Rick doesn’t want to give up his business here and start all over again.

I tell Rick my situation is much the same, I have a job that pays well, good benefits, I’ve been there for years. The only thing is it’s in Southern California. Viv really hates it, urban sprawl, one town the same as the next, mini-malls, gas stations, and 7-11’s, she’d much rather live in the country. (We’re not in downtown LA, but to get away from the LA metro area you have to drive at least an hour from where we live.) On the upside, We’re only 20 minutes from the beach, and I like to go bodysurfing on the weekends when the weather’s nice. Viv’s not a beach person, though. What can I do? “Have another beer!” Rick suggests, so I pop open a fresh can of Busch.

One thing about living near a lake in Florida, there’s lots of bugs. I spot a roach crawling across the bar, and reach out to crush it with an empty can. The roach flies away before I can get it. “Now there’s something you don’t see in California. Our roaches don’t fly, they’re too laid-back,” I joke.

I tell Rick about the ring I found, and show it to him. “The stone is kinda dull,” I say. “If it were clearer, this thing would probably be worth five or six grand.”

Rick suggests cleaning it: “Maybe it’s just dirty,” he says. I ask Rick if he has an old toothbrush. He finds one and gives it to me. The best way to clean jewelry is to pour a little dish soap on a wet toothbrush, then gently scrub it. (Something a jeweler taught me.) I scrub the ring and rinse it. Damn! The stone is now clear, and sparkles nicely! “That might be worth thousands!” Rick says. I’m not too sure of my ability to judge jewelry, though, especially after several beers.

Carol comes home from the school, and we catch up on what’s been happening. I show her the ring, ask what she thinks. “It looks like a fake, look at the metal,” she says.

“I don’t know, it looks pretty real to me,” I reply.

“It’s probably just a really good imitation,” she says.

“I’ll have a jeweler look at it when I get back to LA.”

Carol goes into the kitchen to make herself some supper, Rick and I head back outside to the bar. “I really shouldn’t have another; I haven’t drank this much in years.” I say.

“You gotta cut loose once in a while,” Rick says. “Hey, wanna see some gators?”

“Sure, “ I reply.

We grab a couple flashlights and walk out onto the dock. W shine the lights around the shoreline, spot a couple in the distance (you can see their eyes reflecting the light.) Then we spot one in the reeds next to the dock.

“Stay here and keep the light on him. I’ll go back on shore and scare him out.”

Rick picks up old piece of PVC pipe from the yard and tosses it into the reeds. The gator splashes into the water and swims out past the dock. I shine the light on him, but can’t see him very well; he’s mostly underwater. He swims away towards the neighbor’s dock.

Carol comes out a little later, after putting Josh to bed. We talk for a while, then she says it’s getting late. She goes back in to go to bed. Rick and I finish off the last of the beer, then I set up my bed on the foldout sofa. I drink a big glass of water before hitting the sack, hoping to prevent a hangover. I wake up a couple hours later; having to pee from drinking the water, still feeling pretty buzzed. While in the bathroom I gulp down more water, then go back to bed hoping for the best. I really don’t want a hangover tomorrow, but I probably deserve it.