Buffalo Soldier,

Dreadlock Rasta.

This is Gladstone. Darley and I met him at a bar while we were shopping in Ocho Rios. He was playing guitar and singing Bob Marley tunes for tips. We struck up a conversation and he told us about his family, especially his grandmother. Told me I reminded him of her. I took it as a compliment because he was remembering his grandmother from when he was much younger. Nice guy. I talked him into drinking Patron shots with me but he whimped out after one. Didn't stop me.

I also met the owner of the bar who was probably in his mid thirties. He was from India and had been living in Jamaica for 6 years. He repeated his name several times but I had had one too many Patron shots so I couldn't pronounce it. I asked if I could call him Sam. Nice guy.

When we left, I got a hug from Gladstone and Sam's business card where after his name and address, he had written Sam followed by his cell number. I don't know if he thought I was so drunk I might get in a jam and need help or if he just thought I would come back and buy Patron shots in his bar again. Whatever, I enjoyed visting with them both.