My friend Justin was visiting from Caye Caulker, and he says, “Meet Javi and me at Maxi’s for dinner.” Dinner turned into drinks, drinks turned into the club upstairs, and before I knew it, it was last call.
Javi says, “Allure’s still open!” But I told him, “No, I gotta get home while taxis are still running.” Glenn dropped me off — but Justin had a better idea.
He says, “Don’t worry, I take the public transportation for us party people between 3 and 6 a.m. all the time. Used to do it when I lived here!”
I thought, Wow… San Pedro finally upgraded to public transportation? I must’ve missed the news while I was in Mexico. I was picturing maybe a cute little trolley… or a van.
So we leave Allure and I ask, “Okay, where’s the stop?”
Justin goes, “Middle Street. I can hear it better from there.”
Next thing I know, I hear a rumble. Justin points, “That’s it! Run!”
We sprint down the street, and there it is: a couple guys pulling out garbage cans, and the big garbage truck rolling up.
Justin waves, “¡Hola Don Juan!” and hops on the side like it’s the V.I.P. shuttle. Then he yells back, “Well? Jump on!”
And that’s when I realized — in San Pedro, the only real public transportation is the garbage truck.
The events and characters depicted in Wolfe’s Woofer by Melody S. Wolfe are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The column is intended for satire and entertainment purposes only.
