Everglades Fishing – Captain Ned Small

I was really just trying to be friendly and courteous.

The Circle K has recently changed to ethanol gas which is bad for outboards. Swervin Ervin immediately changed his gas station back to non methanol, Marathon gas, and charged a lot of money for it so the boat people would have to buy it. Kind of like Kenny Brown gharging twentyfive bucks to launch your boat at the only ramp in Chokoloskee.

So i went there for gas too, it costs more but it’s better for your motor, it’s a no-brainer, luckily for me, or unlucky actually as the case will prove to be.

The cashier is a delightful looking petite Phillipino, obviously married to an American, (working at Marathon and wearing all this tight clothes and golden jewelry.) It’s not hard to imagine the sort of armature they wear under there as all pertinant aspects of her diminutive figure are elevated to the blinking point and sculpted into synthetic curves.

You just don’t see this in Everglades. Women here wear overalls, sweatshirts and baseball uniforms. (Except for Luann.) They wear foul weather gear and snake boots. Many are wounded and healing in the sunburned spaces between their tattoos. The anual appearance of a young German tourist in a skirt is enough to cause a pile up of wrecked pickups and trailers hauling frozen pig feet and shark heads in front of the Circle K.

So I stumbled into the “Marathon,” Swervin’ Ervin’s one night, to fuel up with non-ethanol and I needed one more six pack to get the dosage just right.

When I went to check out I was smitten with those graceful Phillipino features, those almond eyes, the slender hips and girlish features, the pouty lips and painted on jeans. The draping of gold jewelry should have been enough to send me running like a scalded dog but, remember, I was in the end game of dosage adjustment.

As she checked me out my eyes glazed over in gratitude and I said, (remember this guy’s and don’t ever make this mistake,) “I see that you are married but do you have a sister?”

I meant it purely as flattery, I already know not to mess with Phillipino Brides, I have a couple of buddies who have fallen, and I certainly know better. It was spontaneous, all meant in fun.

Now I am pursued by the ‘Three Sisters.’ And all their children, (all by one father, I am assured,) and relatives who are looking for a “Big Time American,” to take care of them. To drape them in Golden Jewelry and buy designer jeans for them.

I can no longer buy the precious non-ethanol gas at extra high prices, for fear of crossing paths with the ‘Beautiful Banshees,’   …I have to avoid ‘Marathon,’ for fear of ambush and now I have to buy the dreaded ethanol at the Circle K and supplement it with emulsifiers that cost thirty bucks a pint. My brothers, don’t make my mistake, just buy the gas and the beer and get the fuck out of there while keeping your trap shut!

A scalded dog.