"Somewhere between 65,000 and 75,000 bills," says the good-natured
bartender, who likely had answered my question an equivalent number
of times.
True, there are other places where you might find Cuban sandwiches
or pubs with everything from dollar bills to Jimmy Hoffa affixed to
the walls. But the Keys often offer an entirely unique twist on a
dining experience.
As we leave the No Name Pub, Chris directs me down a dead-end
road.
"There," he says.
We pull the car over.
Beneath the pale moon, a tiny Key deer regards us with dark, liquid
eyes.
And so we wander beneath the hot and happy sun. Chris
directs me to places like
Joe and Celia's Cafe Las Brisas, where,
alongside Tavernier Creek Marina, Joe cooks and Celia serves up
some of the best homemade churrasco while keeping hours that suit
them. ("Open at about 9:30 or so. Close at about 3:30 or so.") In
turn, I loan my own expertise by impulsively yanking us off Route
1.
Passing on to Lower Matecumbe Key, we turn right and bump down a
dirt road. Which is how we end up at Robbie's.
Chris nods approvingly.
"A Keys place," he says.
A weathered-wood shack with a happy tilt, Robbie's has many
offerings, but its centerpiece attraction is the prehistoric tarpon
that roil the water just off Robbie's dock. For about a dollar you
can ogle the tarpon. For two, you can buy yourself a bucket of
baitfish and proceed to entertain yourself and others, feeding fish
that seem to have bottomless stomachs and no discrimination
regarding what they eat.
Standing on the dock, I listen as a father applies questionable
psychology to admonish a feisty, and then wide-eyed, young
daughter.
"Hold my hand," says Father, "or you're gonna go in the water and
the tarpon's gonna eat you."