Lost From View, the Target's notes.

She moves like she don't care. Smooth as silk, cool as air.   -Blondie, Maria
Dark sets rollin'...guessing game in the lineup. Holidays, 10/5/2017.

   Off-season. Night has come faster with each passing day and the Watt had been running late. By the time we crossed the dune, the sun had set and any leftover light was almost gone. I had hoped the full moon would light the beach but no such luck with all the low hanging clouds. None of this deterred  Wattman. Into the water and soon lost from view; disappearing between the fast moving waist high sets against a gray horizon as LWatt and I watched a red moon rise in the cloudy evening sky.
Hurricane, now Tropical Storm Maria's goodbye song. 70 degree night. 69 degree water. Wattman still braving it in a rubber top. Less the clouds, the night could have been great for some night surfing. For as the moon rose it exploded from the horizon like a fireball into a great white light that could have put a shadow onto the beach and the chest high swell. As it was, Wattman tried to jump any wave he could barely see... rising dark images that closed out in a straight line spray of white, each attempt against an ever growing dark sea. The Atlantic had seemed to churn into an ocean of stealthy chop by the time he was done.

   We finally left the pitch black beach and  headed to the Big Easy on 60. Formerly the old Hall's Family Restaurant redone with a New Orleans flare. Considered sitting outside due to this being Endless Summer Cruisin' weekend. The constant throaty roar of street rods was everywhere. To be honest, for a Thursday we had seen bigger crowds, especially those sitting street side watching the continuous parade. So, instead we headed inside to the bar and grabbed a seat. Our bartender greeted us as soon as we sat down and in the immediate had the beverage of our choice served in a large glass. A point to be made: while the glass may have been washed and a professional pour was completed, I still wished it could have been chilled a bit (iced even) instead of pulled from a room temperature stack in the front of the bar. Grub-wise we decide to go with Tuna Tacos and the Jerk Chicken Tacos along with some Steamed Shrimp.

This being the off season and all the kitchen was a little slow. Okay with us. But for the first time this year, I notice our neighbor at the bar was really toasted. He sang with the music, ate with the fork he dropped on the floor, and seemed to ramble on to himself. Then suddenly leaving money on the bar he just disappeared. Our entertainment gone. We could only hope he was walking or taking the bus. While all this was going on our food arrived. I unsuccessfully tried to cut the tacos into thirds and only made a mess. The Jerk, which is not my favorite, was only average. The Tuna was plentiful, but was a smidge bland. In both cases the sauce they put on top seemed to dominate. The shrimp were nice size and had been butterflied nicely. Served 'Nawlins style, the sauce could have been spicier and had too much of a garlic after taste. Thus, we ended the night and merged into the traffic of custom street rods as we headed our separate ways. Deserving of a return chance? Maybe. But, not the New Orleans experience we had hoped. The Revival Tour continues.

THE RATINGS-

Jerk Taco: C

Tuna Taco: C+

Steamed Shrimp: B-

Beer: C+

Atmosphere: B-

Value: C+
Overall Score = 2.38

Don't 'cha wish it was an Endless Summer?