how's it goin'?

how's it goin'?
Originally uploaded by a nameless yeast.

Laid back Key West gave me a mild rattle at first. After leaving the Cuban convenience store neat the motel one afternoon, we backtracked, and on the deck we had descended from not ten minutes before sat a stoic man bleeding generously, arterially from his arm; strange phone calls at the motel were probably from drunken holiday revelers, but that combined with the knife-fight aftermath, and culminating in a ghost tour, left me a shakin' some over. Still, as soon as we departed for the mainland I started to miss the place and its peculiar brand of local insanity, perhaps best made manifest here, by the restrooms at the Sunset Pier, where an overaged beach bum ambled by us asking "How's it goin'?" Before we could give him an answer he shrugged, said "Sorry!" and ambled on, eyes never meeting ours, as if he was on auto-hospitality mode in a tropical asylum of which he was a lifelong resident. Which may well have been the case.