Our theme for the month of June is “snapshots.” Writers were asked to submit a piece with a cover photo that they took or created.
I’ve watched enough Stephen Colbert (more than enough, if I’m being honest) to know Florida is the butt of a lot of jokes. A part of me always suspected it had been unfairly maligned—I have also read that the “man in Florida” headline preponderance has less to do with Florida men’s proclivity for absurd misdemeanors than with the laws governing the accessibility of law enforcement records in the state. While I missed out on the trend at the time (in 2019) of Googling “Florida Man” and one’s birthday, I’m fascinated to report that the first hit for mine is the preposterous: “Arrested for allegedly throwing gator through Wendy’s drive-thru” from 2016.
I’m generally of the opinion that human behavior is more or less strange and unfathomable everywhere on the planet (and, indeed, beyond it). Florida could hardly be beyond the pale, right?
Well, there could be something to the Florida rumors—or maybe it was just that one Wendy’s, or just that one day. Whatever the case may be, the fact remains that I encountered two fascinating characters in one Miami Starbucks over the course of a handful of hours. Eccentricities are everywhere, I suspect, but they’re certainly here.
The first thing I noticed upon walking into the coffee shop was the delightful cool of the air conditioning—followed almost immediately by the fact that one of the patrons had a blue-and-gold macaw perched on the back of his chair, accepting the cracker bits he absently held up with the hand not scrolling across his laptop’s trackpad. It was delightful; it reminded me of childhood excursions to Calgary’s Sunnyside Home and Garden, which had also hosted a resident parrot. Admittedly, an otherwise nondescript Starbucks was among the last places I would’ve expected to relive these memories in. Any children accompanying adults to the Starbucks during the few hours I sat there invariably detoured to his quadrant to stare. I couldn’t blame them—I was sneaking as many covert stares as I dared too (and one furtive, hasty photograph, included here for your viewing pleasure).
After a couple of hours, the man packed away his work, set the macaw casually on his shoulder, and departed—by motorbike. I wish I’d thought to snap a picture of that particular sight. I’d barely glanced away from the evidently well-practiced motorbiking parrot before a woman in blue scrubs toting a brilliantly purple, extravagantly overstuffed duffle bag shuffled over and stood looking down at me.
“Do you know Father Gabriel?” she asked me.
“No.”
“I’m supposed to get my apartment key from him,” she informed me. Then, as though she hadn’t heard my earlier response, she asked: “Do you have it?”
“No,” I repeated, puzzled.
“Do you know how I can get it?” She persisted. “Did he leave it with you?”
“No,” I said, yet again, thinking my open laptop and lack of green apron should’ve made this evident from the start.
“Okay,” she said. “Can I have that piece of chocolate?”
The square of chocolate was halfway to her lips before the bemused “Sure” had quite left mine. “Thanks,” she shot over her shoulder, chewing happily and approaching the next table to repeat her queries. Miami, in my limited experience, is an intriguing place. Where else, after all, would (or could) someone be arrested for throwing an alligator through a drive-thru window?
Natasha (Strydhorst) Unsworth (‘16) is a science communication researcher and practitioner working on her Ph.D. at Texas Tech University. Natasha hails from Calgary, Alberta. Some of her favo(u)rite authors are C. S. Lewis, Francis Collins, and Bill Bryson. Her favourite earthly place is the Canadian Rocky Mountains, and her favourite activities are reading and enjoying the great outdoors—preferably simultaneously.
