Cuban Vacation

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Drake insisted the bellhop carry their luggage their third floor room. It wasn’t his idea to come to a Cuban resort. The blame for that lay squarely with Marla, his fourth wife. Now that he was here, Drake decided make the best of things.

“How can you people live like this? It’s roasting here. Tell me there’s air conditioning,” said Drake.

“Si. Here,” said the bellhop. He pressed a button on a control panel on the wall that flushed the room with cold air.

Marla was outside, inspecting the balcony.

“How do you connect to wifi?” Drake asked the bellhop. He was greeted with a blank smile. “You know, wifi. The internet?”

“Ah, si. Yes. We have internet,” said the bellhop.

“How do you connect to the internet?” asked Drake. He spoke slowly and loudly, as though that would overcome their language differences.

“No internet in bungalows. Only in café. Dial-up,” said the bellhop, smiling.

Drake cringed.

“Is okay?” asked the bellhop.

“No. Do you know where I can get high speed internet? I have a fantasy football draft in three days and I have the second overall selection. Do you understand?”

The eyes of the Cuban bellhop glazed over.

“Listen. What’s your name?”

“My name is Yassiel.” He reached out to shake hands. Drake ignored the gesture.

“Okay. Do you know baseball?”

“Si. Baseball. My baby love baseball. Do you love baseball?”

“No. I like football. American football,” said Drake.

Yassiel listened intently.

“You don’t understand,” said Drake.

“My baby, my son, he plays baseball. He is good, you know? Si. He plays with his bare hands because he has no glove. Is too expensive. Maybe someday, but now we need money for food,” said Yassiel.

Marla joined her husband. “Isn’t this beautiful? Perfect,” she said.

“Thank-you lady,” said Yassiel.

“Honey, give him a tip,” whispered Marla.

Drake rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a fifty and handed it to the bellhop.

Yassiel stared at Drake as though afraid to touch the money. “Is too much, señor.”

Drake sighed and shoved the tip into Yassiel’s palm. “Buy your baby a glove. At least one of us can live out their sports dream.”

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About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
This entry was posted in baseball, Cuba, fiction, first world problems, flash fiction, humor, humour, short fiction, short story, story, vacation and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Cuban Vacation

  1. idiotprufs says:

    Fantasy drafts are important.

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