The Mexican Retreat
Somewhere south of the border a bartender peered over the sand and watched the waves crash onto the beach then retreat to where the oceanic water belongs in the first place.
“I will have a Dixieana Bourbon,” a voice spoke while fighting the sea bee that was harassing guests at the vacation paradise, “What is a Dixienana Bourbon?” The bartender replied with a question noticing the groggy old man.
“Two shots of sweet southern comfort and bourbon on the rocks,”
Hearing the order, the bartender grabbed the proper ingredients to make the patron elate with joy or passed out in a way where a person rested in peace. Once the shaker went silent the glass was filled with the request.
“Here you go,” the resort worker stated in the summer place known for relaxing the soul.
Looking at the contents the tipsy individual gave his gold seal of approval, “I will give you a blue prize for this one.” He said returning to the pool area stumbling along in a way that would make an audience laugh due to its comical scene. “Peace achieved,” the mixologist was heard by the college student on the other side of the bar. She had a book open to the chapter that was noted as “the study of life” and rarely gave notice to all the distraction.
“Are you studying Vitalogy?” the bartender inquired to the young intellect whose life journey could be a Juddmonte Spinster or cutting-edge academic depending on the decisions made in the next couple years.
“I have an exam when I get back to campus on Monday,” she explained while Pearl Jam’s third album entertained the guests, “if I get a good grade then I will get the field pass to continue my studies in the real world not a medical book.”
“I hear that,” the bartender retorted giving way to the two watching the horse racing on the small monitor.
“Put it in the next gear jockey,” one screamed watching the female race rider try to find an opening,
His fellow bettor watched him intently, “you put money on that horse at 30 to 1?”
“Yes, to show, she will get him up on the board.” Was the gamblers’ defense.
As the two watched the horses on the screen part like the red sea the show players prophecy started to come true. “I knew it, she’s a Julie, and look at that show price,” the bartender heard when the number was posted in the show position wondering what the individual from the New Jersey Shore meant by Julie.
Being impressed his new friend mentioned, “wow you have enough to pay for the next round.”
With the sun setting the bartender concluded that everybody found his establishment inside the Candy Store Resort Hotel Casino as a nice place to escape from the real-world stresses. Seeing the entrance sign ‘Dunbar Road’ the bartender was reminded about the motto to the drinking hole, ‘when you are done at the bar, it’s time to hit the road’.
“Just like the ocean,” the bartender reflected, “the visitors crash on our beach and then leave to go back where they belong.”
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