That's not a knife... THIS is a knife

And so it was that our time in St Thomas was coming to an end. We'd had a ball, as I knew we would in each other's company (we're just that great) and also with the kind hospitality of L and B.

I slept in a little more than normal, I guess, but was still up way before E. Tried to sunbake on the banana lounges by the pool at L's, but the weather wasn't being too kind. It was very cute, though, when I heard a scuttle scuttle and saw the dog, usually very reserved with strangers, had stuffed herself under my chair rather awkwardly with her ass poking out at the side. Cute!

The first drops of rain fell and E emerged from her slumber. We debated food options - delivery pizza, going into town, big greasy breakfast - then realised it was not even 10am so not much would be open, and really, pizza for breakfast? Even I would poo-poo that.

It was a ghost town at the bottom of the hill. Not even Pizza Hut was open yet (yep, we actually tried). There was one place with no menu and pretty much no food, then we happened upon a bar just opening. I ordered a pile of grease with some BBQ sauce on the side, and E a "Big Kahuna Burger" complete with chips (of the crisps variety) and absolutely no sauce. Shittiest meal ever.

Back to the house it was to do a bit of a clean up and watch some satellite TV. I have enjoyed not having a TV in St Maarten but on this day in St Thomas, I was glad. The weather was just balls.

Then we had to return the car, and I somehow navigated us back to L's work to meet her there. The guys at the rental place certainly liked the look of E and I, even asked us for a picture with them. "Sure, you have a camera?" "Uhh, no, but I can get one from home." "Don't worry about it then, guys." Ha! But it felt kinda good to have at least ONE guy try to pick us up on this godforsaken island!! Where are all the prying eyes, I ask???

We stopped by one of B's takeaway restaurants, Texas BBQ Pit, to get an assortment of BBQ goods for a late lunch/early dinner. Man, it tasted good! Even for E, the vegetarian/pescetarian/sometimes carnivore. She was tuckin' into those ribs like there was no tomorrow!

Then it was off to the airport, where we arrived way too early and had plenty of time to kill once we checked in. So L drove us to Tickles, a bar nearby, for some beers. Had some more of the local brew, quite nice actually, tucked into 2 bowls of free popcorn (fatty fat fatty!!) and then we headed back to the airport. Liat was again running late so we had plenty of time. Luckily.

We put our bags through security screening and voila! What do they find in my carry-on?? My pocket knife! Now I carry this around because I work with horses, not for any dodgy reason. But it had gone through St Maarten security no problems, so I never even realised I still had it in my bag. The guys told me I could just check it in - easier said than done.

The women at the counter refused to do it, spending way more time arguing with me about there being no more time than actually getting it done, and in the end the kind security guy had to come over with me to explain it could actually still be checked in, even if he had to walk the damn thing over to the plane himself. And so it was checked in.

E gets a little stressed in airports so had been a bit worried when we didn't walk into the waiting lounge together. And she was probably wondering what was taking me so long to come through now. Security and I thought we'd take advantage of this. I waited inside while 2 of them came out, gloves n all, and told E I would not be making the flight due to the knife found in my bag. She looked at them, asking if they were serious. They gravely asked her if she wanted to still take the flight or wait there with me. Then they burst into a fit of giggles and told her they were kidding. Priceless!

The short plane ride was uneventful, except for the prying eyes of some cute little black kids next to us who were not yet at the age of knowing staring is rude (actually, most of the guys in St Maarten never seem to get taught that either).

Back "home", we caught a pimpin' taxi playing some reggae concert with Damien 'Dr Gong' Marley and his knee-length dreds (how would he take a shit with them??) and then went to Pineapple Pete's for some internet and more prying eyes. This time we paid the bill.