After Papas, we do a little shopping, and then it’s time to prepare for our lobster dinner at Puerto Nuevo, a restaurant famous for its views and large portions. Matt whets our appetites with his descriptions of the homemade jalapeño biscuits and butter served with every entree.
The outside deck sits directly over the breaking waves. We are perched safe and high on the pilings, but the sound is deep and thundering as the waves pound the bulkheads. The dining area is enclosed in plexiglass to limit the evening air’s chill.
Drip. Drip. Splash.
Our table is against the window, providing amazing views of the sunset. I keep noticing little white specks appearing on the table. I wipe them away, but they reappear—splash. The spots are wet and speckled with black. I start to think it’s pepper from somewhere. Oh well, back to our dinner conversation and surrounding scenery. We watch the birds fly over the breaking waves and catch little fish. Then they return to their nest of shrieking baby birds and feed them.
Drip. Drip. Splash.
More white and black spots are on the table. More shrieking of baby birds. Those birds are loud. They sound close. Where the hell is their nest that they sound so close? Answer. Right above my head, in the rafters holding up the plexiglass! Those little black and white specks dripping and splashing our table are baby bird shit!
“Ewwwww!” we all say in unison.
Splash, and then plop! That shit lands right in my water glass.
In broken Spanish, we explain there is caca coming from the ceiling and landing in my water. I think a few of those splashes bounce off the table and hit me in the teeth while I’m laughing.
We move tables.
The lobster dinners arrive and we feast, laugh, drink and eat the jalapeño biscuits to our hearts’ content.
No phones or devices are present at this dinner among friends, and no baby birds are harmed during the recording of this story.
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