Taco time!

You say goodbye to Myrna and pick up your beat-up little car from the parking lot behind the pool service company office. The throbbing in your chest has faded from painful down to warm, but you don't want anyone else to touch it in more than the gentlest way for a while after Karen Yoshida left her footprint there.

El Gringo Loco will be a good bet. It's fine weather to sit out at a table by the beach and check out the babes. You see Mona is serving the customers behind the bar, smiling and chatting. You know her from back in school, and she's looking good, filling out her "¡El Gringo Loco!" tank top nicely, with her shiny brown hair pulled up and back in a ponytail. Out on the patio, corralled by a wooden rail fence to satisfy the liquor board, is a scatter of tables and a couple of sand volleyball courts. There's a table full of young women drinking and chatting, waiting for their food order, with a small empty table next to them that looks like a prime spot for you to plant yourself. And there a few other folks you know slightly from seeing them around.

It's still late afternoon, and there are people out beyond the fence, sunning themselves on the sandy beach, including some prime specimens of womanhood of all ages and sizes.

You get a basket of fish tacos and a Coke from the kitchen window and choose a place to plant yourself and enjoy the view.