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had dropped him off for food at the same bar and the patrons there had no time for him either. He was told to leave the premises in the nicest way possible that you can tell a belligerent, delusional, grown a$$ man, who dresses as a pirate 350 days a year to leave (No judgement intended!). I made my way back to the south end, doing my drop offs along the way. Got back near 12th and Jones, and there we saw our beloved lost one. I reunited the two and headed to 16th Street. The bars were all closed up, but there are always people not ready to call it a night. I saw TevO and Hills and Lettuce hanging in front of one of our bars. “TevO! Guess who is napping on the side of Soloman? The Pirate I tell you! He is in his full pirate garb.” I suggested it would be a great photo op and maybe we could relieve him from his sword, his boots, and his crazy pirate hat. Sounded like a great idea to all, so we loaded up, heading north. We rolled up, and there he was, still napping. We got some really good pictures and were about to relieve him from his pirate garb when Lettuce decided to take his hat and smack him with it a few times to wake him up. Plan foiled. Never did care for Lettuce anyway. We loaded back up in the cart to do a lap around the middle of the island and TevO said, “I bet he is still napping, let’s go back.” Going one way down Soloman, he seemed to have left the area. Or did he? He had left the side of the road only to get in the smelly stagnant water in the ditch…willingly. Brilliant! We stopped. “Dude what the heck are you doing?” “I’m a pirate. This is what pirates do!” Idiot... He was dancing around in the mud when he tripped and went completely under that smelly water. Hills and I were beside ourselves with laughter, I mean we couldn’t stop. TevO, with his giant heart, tried to get him out of the ditch, but he had no success. It was now going on like 5 am. The other transportation guy rolled up in his pick up (he was the one who dropped him off at 2:45 food place). Hero of the day, I guess. He pulled him from the water and took him home. He did however, make him ride in the back of the truck. More than I would’ve done for him! At last, the whole point of this story... TIPD, please I beg you, shut the bars down at 3AM this year. Not when the clock says 3AM, but the real 3AM. Help us out! Save a pirates life! PLEASE!!! By Ron Goralczyk Oh October, what a great month! The weather doesn’t get any better. You can still do all the water activity, still catch a tan, and no jellyfish. We are still in the Hurricane season, but as long as we have Jameson we will be alright! What a surprise I had that Friday, lying in bed suffering with the Tybee flu, listening to the Breeze (pun intended!) and hearing the distinct voice of My beloved son coming from the tv. I cracked one eye open and lo and behold, yes that was Joey telling the world how we survive. Secrets out! (Clue: The murder did not take place on the south end.) I don’t want to sound like a hater or anything, but we also have Pirate’s Fest in October. Not exactly my favorite holiday. Wait, not holiday. Let’s say “locally sanctioned Poop Show.” Also, we have the time change at Halloween. All of us in the service industry hate that. The level of indulgence goes way up this night. You wouldn’t think that one extra hour would change much, but dear God, it DOES! I suppose we are all preconditioned to the “real” 3 AM, not 4. The only fun part is looking into the eyes of the bartenders that extra hour and seeing that they are every bit as lost and desperate as you are! Now, combine these two things and “stuff” gets super real. One year during said time change, when we only used golf carts, I was doing my best to keep up with the demand. It was late and not a good time to be searching for anyone, no matter how much we love them (talking to you, You know who you are!). Going from 12th and 6th Ave. to the end of South Campbell was a time consuming run. Back in the day, golf carts that were gas powered were pulled over and ticketed for being on Butler Ave. So Jones was the route. For some strange reason, Soloman is one way from Second Ave. to North Campbell. So yes, on occasion, I would go the wrong way. However, I had the best defense at the ready in the chance I would be caught: “But Officer, I am going one way!” Thankfully I never had to use it, but if said right, I think it would work! Anyway, my passenger and I were hauling ass one way when we got to 6th Ave. and Soloman, and I saw a local pirate laying really close to the ditch that runs along Soloman. I locked the brakes and spun around to go check on said pirate. “Hey, you alright?” “Yes. I’m just taking a nap.” “Cool,” I bounce. My passenger suggested that I take said pirate home. No way man! He was a banned customer and He had earned it. Even if I’d had time, I’d have still had no time for that! We got to the end of South Campbell and the beloved we were looking for was not there, so back to the south end of the island we went. I had to swing by a bar that serves food until 2:45am, to pick up some south-enders. As I turned off of Soloman and 6th, I saw that said pirate was still napping. Turned out another transportation company 16 TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | OCT 2016


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