“Tiki Hut Tits. Competing—and losing. I hadn’t had much luck, that was true. I was down to a handful of dollars, and my big dinner option that night had involved cleaning the bartender out of pineapples and cherries. Best fruit salad ever since I’d eaten it in Ro’s surly company. Yeah. I might also have stolen his beloved lucky shirt. On the bright side, he hadn’t brought me up on charges or anything. My police record was clean, although my driving record is as spotty as a snowfield in t...he path of an active volcano. He repossessed the shirt and the rest was history. We hooked up. I sold him an island. We got married on the beach of said island and I claimed both the shirt and the man. Miraculously, the Tiki Hut is still standing six years after our grand meeting when I show up alone for a cocktail or four. Of course, since it’s pretty much a bar, some sand, four stilts, and a palapa roof, it’s equally possible the owner has replaced it a half-dozen times since my last visit.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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