Accident Prone

"I don't want to do touristy things like golfing, horse-riding, or anything else that is designed for tourists. We can do that in many places. Let's get an authentic Jamaican experience, and spend the day like locals…"

Max approved the idea and suggested that they hire a guide.

The resort helped them find a guide who beamed friendliness and introduced himself as Tarone.

Within the first five minutes, Tarone listed numerous destinations while explaining what is special about each of them.

Liz was excited about the day ahead.

They walked through several colorful streets, checked out vendors, and open bars from where reggae music was blasting. Everyone was friendly, almost like Tarone, and as they moved further away from the coast, Liz and Max noticed that vendors with souvenirs and knick-knacks are reducing in frequency.

Their first main destination was a massive open market where they could buy anything they could think of. There were clothes, shoes, accessories, gadgets, fruits, vegetables, spices, fresh fish, and other meat, and some stands had ready-made food to sell.

Tarone was handy. He was answering their questions and warning them not to be scammed for the price. "You look like tourists and they will ask you three times the normal price, or more. If you want to buy something, let me handle it."

Liz narrowed her eyes at the man. "How do we know that you are not trying to scam us?"

He laughed. "I earn money from you, and we already agreed on the price. It is in my interest to give you a good experience so that you reward me at the end and also recommend me to your friends. These vendors don't depend on tourists so they will try to get as much as possible from you and they don't care if you are dissatisfied later."

Liz thought about how this logic makes sense. She didn't like discrimination, and she was not used to haggling. They passed almost the whole market and ended up not buying anything. But even with the lack of shopping, Liz appreciated the colors and experiencing something new.

Liz looked at Max. "Are you having fun?"

"This is not my idea of a relaxing holiday but if you are enjoying, that is fine with me."

Liz was happy that he gave her an honest answer and she decided to try making it fun for him.

Liz was interested in two stands that had several massive steaming pots. The scent mixed and she was not sure if it's delicious or if she is hungry.

"Is this what people who live here eat?", Liz asked Tarone.

Tarone bobbed his head. "Sometimes. This is mostly for the people who are selling their goods here or live in the area and are in a rush. Jamaicans usually prepare food at home."

Liz nodded enthusiastically.

They got each soup to taste in styrofoam cups with plastic spoons and as much as Max was reluctant to try, he finished most of it. They were hearty and spiced up just right and he was hungry. He didn't touch chicken feet or pieces that he suspected to be unidentified meat or skin.

They got two soups for Tarone also. He was describing the process of making the soups, and that the richness of flavors is because they are simmering for a long time. He didn't forget to emphasize the use of fresh local seasonings.

After the market, they walked for about fifteen minutes and ended up in front of a street stand that sold boiled corn. It was sweet and juicy and lightly salted and it came with a wedge of fresh coconut.

Tarone explained that with every bite of corn, you take a piece of coconut and the mix of flavors is out of this world. Liz and Max acknowledged that it was superb.

It was way past lunchtime when Tarone recommended several nearby places as lunch options, but Max and Liz were full from random snacking.

Liz said that her legs are achy from the walking and she would like to rest, preferably somewhere with a shade and a cold beverage, because the sun was heating them up mercilessly and she was on the verge of evaporating.

"Is there a bar we can sit and have a drink?", Max asked Tarone.

Fifteen minutes and two turns later, Max and Liz found themselves in a bar where reggae music was blasting, and other than the bartender, four men were there, obviously locals.

Inside was a bar counter that was not very long, seven tables with four-to-five chairs around each, there were a pool table and an empty area which seems to be for dancing. No one was dancing or sitting at the tables, the patrons present were squeezed at the bar counter and chatting with the bartender in loud voices as they tried to overpower the music.

The guide assured them that this is a safe place and that Jamaicans are friendly people. After a short deliberation, Max and Liz decided to give a bonus to Tarone and to tell him that he is free to leave. It was late afternoon and after this bar-break, they were planning to return to their house on the water at the resort.

The beer from the tap came in huge jugs and it was perfectly chilled.

Max lifted Liz's legs into his lap and started massaging them gently.

"Are you enjoying?", Max asked even though Liz's smile told him that she is.

Liz moaned. "Your hands are magical."

Max chuckled.

"Did you have fun so far today?", Liz asked, worried that they did the things she wanted and that he didn't like the experience.

Max shrugged. "I came here with a goal to spend my time with you. It does not matter where. Every time your face lit up in amazement, I got a confirmation that it was the right thing to come here."

He also wanted them to reconnect. Well, they reconnected many times last night and they are back to lovey-dovey, so… mission accomplished. Everything else after that is a bonus.

About halfway through the jug of beer, Max excused himself. He needed to use the restroom.

Max observed the single restroom that was for the men and women. It was small but clean with colorful walls, like almost everything else in Jamaica, and the music was blasting in there as well from the speaker suspended in the corner above the door.

Max didn't take more than three minutes, but when he returned, he found that two locals moved from the bar and were now sitting with Liz at the table.

The swelling of Max's rage was interrupted when he observed that they are laughing, and he knew that if those guys are hitting on Liz, she would not be so relaxed. Or did she drink too much?

"Yo…", one of the two men greeted Max when he approached them. "Your lady says that you can kick our asses at the pool table. Is that true?"

Max's eyebrows shoot up and he looked at Liz, expecting an explanation. Did she get him into trouble? If he knew, he would put a small camera, to keep an eye on her, in his absence.

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