I awoke realizing there was no sound from the Lazybuns; we must have made port at Cabo San Lucas. We'd been at sea two days and two nights. It'd been smooth sailing, hardly a wave over three feet. Besides those of us who would be making the long cruise, we had four ladies aboard: Kim and Sue, and lady friends of Peter and Charlie. I nudged Kim, "Wake up, honey, we're at Cabo."
"God, it's about time. I don't like being a board ship this long. I need to get the ground under my feet ... and go shopping. That's what I miss the most. Shall we get dressed to go ashore?"
"First we'll have breakfast. Patsy should have something ready.
"Morning, Joe and Kim, the rest of the gang are in the dining room."
"Top of the morning to you, Captain Hobby. Looks like you brought us safely to our first port."
"The credit goes to our crew. After guzzling tequila shooters I conked out at 10 o'clock and just awoke about an hour ago. As we discussed yesterday, the ladies will be on their own for shopping, sightseeing, or whatever, and we'll meet back on Lazybuns at five for cocktails," Hobby explained.
"Where are we going for dinner? You giving Patsy the night off?"
"He's earned it. What do you think of our chef's performance thus far?"
"Terrific. I think he went all out to impress the ladies."
"Well, he impressed me, too. I gave him a little bonus."
The five of us men walked around the marina to check out charter fishing boats. We found a skipper who knew where the albacore were. This was Patsy's idea, he wanted to get some for our larder. "This'll be great, guys, who's going with me?" Patsy asked. Charlie and Peter assented; they're into deep-sea fishing.
"While you guys fish Hobby and I will check out the local scene. Well, it's only 11 o'clock, but don't you think it's about time for a margarita?"
"Like Jimmy Buffet says, 'It's gotta be five o'clock somewhere.'"
We went to a bar called Casa Pueblito. "What do you have for anejo tequila?" I asked the bartender. He pointed to a bottle that looked familiar. "That'll do; make two margaritas on the rocks, no salt." There were only few gringos in the place, but it was early in the day.
"Not bad, Hobby said as he sipped the margarita. What you think, Joe?"
"Too tart." I called, "Bartender ... some Cointreau, por favor." He grudgingly brought the bottle and poured some into my glass.
"That will be 30 pesos more," he said.
I put a five dollar bill on the bar and said, "Don't bring the change, that'll be your tip." He glared at me, because he knew he should be getting a bigger tip.
"Kind of tough on the guy," Hobby commented.
"He pissed me off with his attitude."
"Joe, I want to talk to the people over there. I heard something about poker." I sucked on my much improved margarita while watching the pedestrian traffic go by. Hobby came back all smiles. "Joe, you won't believe this. There's a private poker club not far from here, down on the next block on the second floor. Their sign says, Kelp Exports. Let's finish up and go down there."
We climbed a narrow staircase to a landing and knocked on the door. A small panel slid open, reminiscent of an old speakeasy. A pair of dark eyes looked us over. Hobby said, "Jimmy sent us." Immediately the door opened and we entered a small lobby.
An attractive young lady at a desk said, "May I see some identification?" We showed our California driver's licenses. "Do you have cash?" She asked. "There's a minimum donation of $200. You can make additional donations inside."
I looked at Hobby, who had his money out. "It's all right, Joe, Jimmy told me this is the way it works." I peeled off two bills and she gave each of us a tray of chips. "There should be 40, Joe, five bucks each."
The man who let us in opened another door, showing several poker tables; there were probably 20 to 30 players seated.
"The first two tables are Texas hold 'em, $5-$10," the man said. "Sit anywhere you like."
"Hobby, let's sit together and play it slow until we size up this place." Three other players at the table were Anglos, all from California. The two Hispanics were also from California. One said, "I've seen you guys at Commerce."
"Yeah," Hobby said, "we go there a lot."
After first name introductions I said to Pete, the Hispanic guy, "So what you think of this place?"
"It's good. I've been here a couple times. Drinks are expensive, but they are anywhere in this town. As far as I've seen, they run honest games."
Both Hobby and I bought more chips before we began to enjoy some good luck. We played a few hours, occasionally snacking and tossing down Coronas. Before I knew it, it was late in the afternoon. "Hobby, we better get going, it's almost four-thirty. I was about five-hundred ahead. It looked like Hobby was about even.
We got a new hand, but my cards were worthless; I mucked. Hobby said, "I've got lousy cards too, but I'll play them out just to be a good sport." A following player made a big bet and Hobby called. The flop was K-4-2 of different suits. Hobby checked to the raiser who made another big bet. "Oh, what the hell, I'm all-in." Hobby said, and was quickly called. The turn and river yielded a five and six. Hobby's opponent showed a set of kings. When Hobby turned over a jack the guy was already reaching for the chips, but then Hobby showed the three for a straight.
"How could you call me with those cards?" The guy bellowed.
Hobby smiled and said, "I told you I had lousy cards."
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
