"This is what you do when you don't get a private job?"
He nods. "Where are you going? Your hotel is the other way?"
"I'm heading to Nerie's. These people I just met say that's my best bet for gibnut."
"Gibnot?" He looks doubtful.
"Well, is there a better place to go?" We had tried to get it on the road to Xunantunich, but they'd been out.
He shakes his head. "No, but I don't think..."
"Well, I'll give it a shot."
"Do you know where to go?"
"It's near the police station, right?" I gesture behind me, pretty sure I'm in the right general direction. I'll figure it out eventually.
"I'll take you there," he says.
"All right." We hop in his car. Most of the people from the ferry have already left, so there probably weren't any other fares for him anyway. The ride is maybe three blocks, which seems ridiculous, but I say, "What do I owe you?"He says "Nothing," which I think is really nice.
 |
| I didn't take this shot of Nerie's II, where Richard took me. Trip Advisor did. Use their services - or not. Who cares? |
They do have lobster stew, though, which sounds good. Richard tells me to take a seat, which I dutifully do - but not before shaking his hand, thanking him for his help, and seeing him off.
The waitress asks if I want anything to drink, and I go for watermelon juice.
The stew isn't so much stew as it is fried lobster meat on top of rice and beans - and I say "lobster" advisedly, since I know far too many places up north that use some sort of fishy substitute for lobster. But I can't tell the difference, so what do I care? It's good. I skip the potato salad, like always.
I notice I'm running low on cash, but I do have enough left for this kind of operation. I worry, a little, that I won't be able to take money out from the bank. I'd tried the other day, and I couldn't complete the operation. Maybe it was a temporary malfunction. Maybe something was seriously wrong. A worry for another day. It's getting dark, and I've got almost a mile to go before I can sleep.
I leave a tip - which I'm told isn't an absolute necessity here, but I've been doing, just in case.
The sun hasn't completely set, but it's getting there, and I'm already pretty tired. I'm hoping there won't be any trouble tonight -
"Hey, there!"
Richard's outside, still, waiting for me.
"What the hell!"
"It's getting dark. Let me take you back to the Ramada."
In New York there'd be a fight, or at least a sneer. In New York there'd be a "No. I'm fine. Bye." with a snide laugh afterwards of "Who the fuck did he think I was?" But this ain't New York, and I don't know that I know the rules yet.
"Why not?"I say, and jump in again.
I wonder if we're friends. I wonder if he feels guilty for taking me for so much during the Xunantunich expedition, particularly when we took his family and had car repairs. I didn't complain, but it was not a professional tour experience. Maybe he's making it up to me. Maybe he wants to see if there's any other tours we can go on together. We'd chatted previously about the Belize Zoo. Maybe I can feed more monkeys!
What's going on?
It's less than five minutes to get me to the hotel, and I say, again, "All right: I've got to owe you something or this, right?"
"Oh, I don't know. You can pay me what you want..."
I pull out ten dollars, Belize, which is what it should cost to get from the center of town to the hotel, according to the last time I took that trip. I thank him again, and I go up to my room.
But I wonder. He really went above and beyond, not only taking me, but waiting around for me, like a chauffeur? No, he wasn't commissioned to do that. No, I didn't owe him anything. Yes, he overcharged me by maybe $100 US for our earlier outing.
I dunno. I really don't like being involved in the service economy,
When I go to the front desk, I ask about a massage, and schedule one in fifteen minutes.
It's not bad.
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