San Juan

The plane landed in San Juan in the late afternoon. A battered yellow taxi van gathered their bags and shuttled them to a downtown hotel. This was their first trip together, a test of friendship. They planned to spend three days in San Juan and a week cruising the Caribbean. Their budget room at the Hotel Excelsior overlooked the postcard perfect bay. They asked Roberto at the front desk for a restaurant recommendation within walking distance. The Cabana was authentic Puerto Rican, especially the fact that they were the only female diners. The small brightly lit room was filled with painted metal tables where dark men sat smoking cigars and cigarillos. Everyone, even the waiter, seemed to keep their distance. They struggled through the Spanish menu choosing foods they couldn't find at home: fried bananas, black beans, chicken in a rich brown sauce. They ate quickly, left a tip, and headed back to the hotel. All they needed now was a place to dance.