11. Carrie And Ginger

Once I got back to the boat, I gathered my things and walked up to shower. The warm water cascading over my body was refreshing. It felt good to shed the dirt and sweat that’s just part of boat life.

Back aboard, I poured 3 fingers of scotch and settled in the cockpit. I did a Google search for the restaurant in the marina. There wasn’t much to learn. Apparently, the marina management didn’t prioritize a fully featured web page for their on-site eatery. Still, I felt it appropriate to patronize them, plus, I have had great luck in the past with the female staff in such places.

After my drink, I wandered over to the restaurant. It was clean and well appointed, decked out in the typical nautical theme. There was an outside balcony overlooking the marina and the air conditioned inside. I sat at the inside bar. The barmaid, a middle-aged matronly looking woman, approached.

“What’ll it be Captain?” “Scotch rocks and a menu, please.” “Coming right up.” She produced a menu and poured my drink. I looked around to discover that most of the other diners were paired off, husband and wife. A few were younger but, by and large, most were my age or older. There only appeared to be two wait staff for 20 some odd tables, most occupied. They were busy running back and forth to the kitchen and they were both easy on the eyes.

“You ready to order, Captain?” I snapped back to reality. “Sure. I’ll have your grouper plate, grilled, and another pour, please.”

As she delivered my food she asked “Anything else, Captain?” “Just a little inside info. Where’s the local hotspot for some action? I’m not here for long and I always try to make at least one new friend from each port I visit. By the way, I’m Sailor.”

“Nice to meet you, Sailor. I’m Caroline but everyone calls me Carrie. Sadly, there’s not much nearby. There’s a couple of wildly popular places further down the road but it’s a taxi ride. Local lady owns them and she does quite well. Other than that, it’s pretty dead around here after dark.”

As I processed this info, I studied Carrie. Even though she was kind of matronly, it was clear that she kept herself in shape. Brown hair just below the ears, a square face, pleasing but not model quality. Her chest was ample but it was hard to judge her body below the waist while she stood behind the bar.

“Well that’s disappointing. What about you, Carrie? Don’t you and your husband go dancing or to a movie or something?”

“Oh, I’m not married, Sailor. Widow, no kids. It does get kind of boring. Sometimes I’ll go sit on the beach or just drink myself silly sitting on my balcony. I’ve got a condo a few blocks away. Actually, this job is pretty much my life.”

“That sounds kind of grim, Carrie. When do you get off work?” “My replacement comes in an hour.”

“How about this, just to switch things up a bit. Why don’t we meet up after work and let me show you a good time. We can sit on my boat, go to the beach or get blind drunk on your balcony. Nothing outrageous. Just some casual conversation and something out of the routine. What say?”

She leaned back and crossed her arms, subtly pushing her boobs up to be more prominent.