Writing Wednesday – David Ace Dean: Havana Hotel Bar

We’ve been trying to get David Ace Dean to get us his stories and poems every Wednesday. Here’s one from a recent stay in Havana, Cuba.



“It’s like Canada right now!”

She stopped shaking a daiquiri and got very quiet, then emotional and overly apologetic, her hand over her mouth. I was scared she thought she might lose her job. Smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand expressing her mistake, and at the same time what seemed like her perceived national inadequacy, she was embarrassed to the brink of tears.

“It’s fine! I was saying it’s good! It’s Ok! Really! I like it!”

I started smiling as much as I could, standing on the edge of my barstool waving her in for a hug. She approached and let me embrace her, slightly smiling but sobbing and I could feel her hiccups. She smelled like a million coconut bucks. I let go and she retreated, I put my hand on her cheek.


She gave a salty chuckle and wiped her nose with her index finger then her eyes with a bar napkin.

“Yes. Yes. It is ok… sorry…”
“No! Don’t be sorry!”
“Si! Sorry!”

We both laughed, and I poured the slushy orange juice she had given me all over my rum on the rocks.

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