Meeting At the Jac

 Day 1

The third quarter meeting was due, so we scheduled it for the Jac for the last weekend of the month.

 Bill was coming from Jax, about a six and a half our ride, Celeste was coming from Ft. Meyers, a couple hour ride, and I was doing the hour and a half journey from St. Pete.

I had a late departure of around eleven as I was going to stop for lunch at the Waypoint restaurant over the bridge on US41 and in the middle of nowhere but just down the road from Poppi's. The mission was to have lunch and hopefully meet Dan and Tamara who introduced my friends Wendy and Stefan that started a great love affair from day one.  The Waypoint is a new construction restaurant that is one year old. Oddly the menu is Mexican, and though my taco salad was good and the meat interesting, I don't know why honkies went into the Mexican business. Unfortunately, the owners were up on one of the great lakes playing with their boat.

 After lunch I made my way to Parish and got on FL62 and drove the sixty-four straight miles to Avon Park arriving just before two. I was surprised to fine Bill had arrived before me, but he is always a fast rider. Celeste arrived shortly after me.

 At five we called the meeting to order with beer, wine and Cheetos. Bill had gone to WinnDixie to purchase the items and a major storm where lightning and thunder kept him trapped for close to an hour. He was very impressed when one of the employees brought him a chair to set on while he waited it out. When the rain let up a little, he brought his scooter under cover on the sidewalk and put on his rain gear. Another kind employee brought him is basket of groceries.  Kindness is everywhere if you just let it in.

 Celeste, I describe as a Florida cracker, and I do use the term “broad' from time to time. This is because she takes no prisoners and is tough as nails. Born and raised in Florida she lives in a cracker house with no a/c and shares her chicken eggs with us. She has tended bar in New Orleans, St. Pete, and Key West, but her profession was in the theater, not AMC type, live theater. She works as a poll worker every year at the elections and had just come off the job of the primary where she worked a mainly white, republican district and as far from her political ideals as you can get. Luckily this time she made it without incident. She was quite entertaining telling us her poll stories.

 After the happy hour meeting, we adjoined across the street to 18 West for dinner. It was busy but not overly so and we got a high top at the window. Drinks all around which meant beer for them and a lemon martini for me.

 Celeste ordered the fish sandwich. The fish was about six inches long and four inches wide at the top. It was huge. Bill ordered a chicken Caesar salad.  Huge describes this one also with a large serving of chicken. I ordered a buffalo chicken wrap. It was large but not nearly like the other meals.

 Bill and I had finished our meal but Celeste, being a talker and men eat faster, was still working on the fish when Dave the owner came to the table. It was getting close to the nine pm closing time and the place was emptying out. Bill and I were flattered that he came to visit, and we know he loves golf so Bill asked him about his game and did he bet. Dave then went on to tell us his golf story and how he sometimes ends up betting $1000 for a hole with Sam Griffith, part of the wealthy Ben Hill Griffith clan. Ben is dead but the football stadium in Gainesville at Florida has his name on. That type of money. The whole time he had his hand on Celeste's back.

 We finished up, crossed the plaza in the street and called it a day.

 Day 2

We met in my room for coffee as mine was the best suited for it. It had a table and a large couch. Bill and Celeste brought pastries and fruit. We discussed our meeting yesterday and opened the floor to new

topics. Celeste took off on Dave. She does not like being called 'sweetie', “young lady” or those names that were used commonly back when and still common out here in the backwoods. She calms she worked hard to get to the age she is and is damn proud of it. Plus he was talking loudly to us near her ear and she was trying to finish her dinner.

The meeting adjourned at nine and Celeste went off to buy caladiums and look in junk shops.

 Bill and I saddled up and went riding. We knew we had to be back by to two when the storms roll in. We roamed around and ended up in Zuflo Springs at a little taco joint. The food is always good but the clientele is suspect. Especially those that have home made Trump signs all over the almost broke down pickup trucks. We rolled into the Jac just as the thunder started.

 For dinner we went to Taqueria Merlo. Most of its clientele are farm workers who are all Latin. Half is a groceries store selling things that Latin’s desire that cannot be found at the WinnDixie. Like long gloves for working in the grooves. Citrus trees have spikes on them, and these protect the arms. I even buy them to take home for Vicki to work in the yard.

 The other half is a cafeteria. On Friday’s the place is packed as the field workers come in ten passenger vans to buy their food. This was Saturday and there was still a long line, mostly for to go orders. Celeste and Bill placed our order at the counter, and we waited for our number to be called. We just ordered a couple of dishes to share but they are large and there was still food to take home.

 Day 3

 Breakfast and the meeting started at 8 with leftover pastries and coffee. General life was discussed.

The meeting was adjourned at 9 as Bill and I had a brunch appointment in Haines City, about an hour and fifteen away the way we ride. We told Celeste goodbye as she would be heading back to Fort Meyers this morning.

 Bill and I headed north on FL17 going through FrostProof, Babson Park, home of Webber International University, Highland Park and Lake Wales. It’s called the “scenic highway” and for Florida it is. We arrived at the Egg City Diner about ten minutes before the new head cheerleading coach of Freedom High School in Orlando my great niece Sara. Sara was working one of her dream jobs at Disney when on a Thursday she spotted an ad online for a head cheerleading coach at Freedom. She applied, interviewed on Saturday, passed a background check on Monday and was hired on Tuesday. She also assists in a special education class. She has been a competitive cheerleader all her life and hopes to be a college coach someday.

 The Egg Diner is a large modern restaurant, and I chose it for it’s size in case the Sunday crowd filled it up. There was a short line, but we seated before Sara arrived. The servings were huge. It was a great visit with Sara and we are proud of her accomplishments.  The other interesting thing is the women’s restroom was labeled “eggs” and the men’s “sausage”.

 Sara went home to do laundry and Bill and I retraced out way south with a few detours to see new areas. Back at the Jac by two but the rain did not start until after three.

 Dinner was a takeout pizza that was way too big, so we shared it with the hotel

 Day 4

On main street was a restaurant called the Depot and we had eaten many a breakfast. In recent history, like the last couple of months the long-time owner had put it up for sale, but he dropped dead two weeks before the sale was to come final. The partner sold it to a different buyer, another businessman in town. He renamed it the Diving Girl. There had, years ago, been a motel in town called the Diving Girl and when it sold the new owner of the restaurant bought the old sign and put it in his store. He is caring on with the theme by naming the restaurant Diving Girl. We went in abut 7:30 and there was no one there. Usually there probably would have been around six table occupied. The breakfast was good. The staff friendly. But not a sole came in while we were there.

 Bill and I said our goodbyes and headed north, and I headed east. We both stopped a 8:44 to look for the space launch only to find it had been scrubbed.

 I arrived home with no problems but about thirty miles from home Bill had a flat tire and could not find a hole. Since he knows somebody everywhere, unlike me he is a friendly guy, he made it to a friend’s office, borrowed is truck, went home and came back with a tire. Tire replaced, he made it home in time for a cold beer.