Alas, I have reached the magnificence that is the Seven-mile bridge leading into Key West! It is a wondrous sight to behold as the setting sun paints the lapping waves a myriad of vivid colors before splashing into the sea for its nightly slumber. Honestly, I've seen less color at a diversity parade! Ha! Who am I kidding? You'd have about as much luck getting Ole Quint to a diversity parade as you would trying to limit Rosie O'Donnell's portions at an all you can eat buffet. But you get the point...lots of colors...wonderful to behold...blah blah blah. Moving on...
Since no one has seen fit to offer me safe passage in their vehicle as they make their way across the bridge, I have been forced to travel the entire distance on foot. Being that I am an outstanding physical speciman, I plan on running all seven miles at full speed. I'd be willing to wager that I just might even beat a few cars to the other side, provided that there's a modicum of traffic, of course.
It should be near midnight by the time I reach the city, and there's an "X" marks the spot on my mental map directly over the "clothing optional" bar that's located in the center of town. This is favorable because not only will young ladies be unable to form opinions based on the humility of my wardrobe, but even more importantly they will be afforded the viewing pleasure of my flesh galleon, Moby Weiner. It still strikes me as odd that there is an establishment within the confines of the continental United States that fully embraces the legal shedding of one's clothing, and yet more often than not that is exactly the type of behavior responsible for Ole Quint's frequent prison vacations! I guess I'll never understand the law.
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