A small bar sat near the beach on John Smith Island. The bar is named in honor of John Smith. It’s called Smithery’s and dubbed “Where you go to get hammered.” This is where John Smith likes to be.
He gazed at the ocean and no one knew for sure how many oceans John had seen or what adventure was just over the horizon.
No one knew where his imagination took him, but if it took him anywhere his reality had already been there. There was nothing he could not relate to or speak about for he was a man who experienced only what many men dare imagine.
A tourist sat next to John at the bar.
“What do you see, the ocean or the waves?” the tourist asked.
“Why do you ask?” John said sipping a margarita.
“I want to see what you see,” the tourists said.
“You are at least five margaritas behind me,” John said. “When you catch up with me you will see wonderful things. Not true, but wonderful.”
John turned to the bartender. “A pitcher of margaritas for my friend and me.”
After two hours John left the man at the bar in a stupor.
“A man who can’t hold his liquor has no place in my ocean,” John said as he paid the bartender and walked to the shore.
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