Anguilla, Part 2: Newbies by the Numbers

By this time we were roughly halfway through our trip, and already we had mashed de place up; mounted a floating, pee-filled duck; eaten half of a stranger's dinner; endured bug bites, sun rashes, and melted faces; and consumed enough rum punch to forget all about the bug bites, sun rashes, and melted faces.

So it seemed like a good time to take our lives into our own hands.

Our friend Rob Willsher, he of the tireless will to find my missing ring, runs the island's best dive shop, Vigilant Divers, and, in a moment of gratitude for everything he'd done for us, I temporarily lost my mind and inexplicably agreed to give scuba diving a try.

We were literally that "How It Started / How It's Going" meme.

Angel did really well, but I was a disaster. First there was the fact that I literally could not stand upright, since the gear weighs 50 lbs. . . . and I weigh 100 lbs. Second was the fact that my thin-skinned body is basically a collection of dowel rods wrapped in tissue paper.

The worst part, though, was that as Angel and I were thrashing about in the water fighting for our lives, Trina and Scott were enjoying a serene, leisurely brunch at Straw Hat.

One of them even had the audacity to order a hot dog while I gasped for my last dying breaths. Next thing you know they'll be scarfing down FBI cheeseburgers at my funeral.

It is a testament to Rob's patience and professionalism that he still agreed to have lunch with us at Straw Hat after we essentially spent the morning sucking up two tanks full of oxygen in order to dunk our heads under water and then wail, "Save yourself! Go on without me!"

We were joined by Trina and Scott (who apparently never left after breakfast), Rob's wife Julie, and Straw Hat owner Anne Parles.

Rob may look like a tough guy, but he dines like the British royalty that he practically is, lunching on an elegant chicken salad and a crisp, grassy Sauvignon Blanc.

Rob regaled us with stories of his road-trip adventures in America -- all of which involved him sparring with the likes of Maury Povich and ended with us in tears of laughter -- and, as the Sauvignon Blanc flowed freely, we decided to create two new British greetings in his honor ("Beef kippers to you!" and "Great candied pears!").

That evening was a Wednesday, which could only mean one thing: Wing Night at FBI.

What appeared to be a new waitress in an AXA Brewery tank flitted from table to table, occasionally popping in behind the bar as well. When she stopped by to check on our table, we got to chatting and, after another round of rum punch, the talk inexplicably turned to which one us had the funniest baby pictures. I thought it was me (I had front teeth the size of tombstones that you could park a truck between); Trina thought it was her (she looked exactly like a Cabbage Patch kid until she was well into high school); and Amy? Well . . . Amy won.

At least she turned out gorgeous. Trina and I are still waiting.

Later Amy mentioned that she'd just gotten a new puppy to keep her existing dogs company, and did we want to come by and see him since she lived just up the hill? I certainly wasn't risking a walk in the dark -- I'm clumsy enough in the daytime and without any rum punch -- but Trina was all in, and although I'd normally be loathe to let her set off in the dark in a foreign country with a complete stranger (to see a puppy, no less -- the oldest trick in the book!), I figured it would be fine since Amy worked at FBI and Scott was going along, too. And so they set off into the Anguillian night.

Later, when Marjorie asked where they'd gone, I explained that they'd gone up to her new employee's house to see some dogs.

"You mean that blonde girl I saw earlier?" she asked. "She doesn't work here."

Oh.

Luckily Trina is too small to make a skin suit out of anyway, and so her and Scott returned to FBI safe and sound and covered in puppy saliva.

The next day we decided to head over to Zemi Beach House for lunch, to show Trina and Scott how the other half (and shameless interlopers) live.

We enjoyed a delicous lunch of fish tacos, watermelon and feta salad, tomato gazpacho, and more.

After lunch we headed to the upper-level pool for a swim.

Not a bad day for a bunch of interlopers.
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