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Remember what you said PDA, “What happens in La Habana, goes on the forum. Right... Wednesday November 21st it was, Miramar, La Habana. After a morning tour of El Laguito and watching gobs of Behike 56’s and Sig V’s rolling off the thighs, labeled and into beautifully lacquered boxes my Aussie mates decided a night out, of the highest calibre, was apropos. Well ok. I’m off to change and emerge in a breezy aqua blue shirt, gray slacks and the only boots I had. Oh no, not good enough. PDA insists, no, demands, “You are not going to any club with me in fishing boots.” Off goes the youngest Aussie for a nicer pair of boots. Seeing them I immediately think, “please don’t let them fit, please don’t let them fit.” Size 10, right, perfect fit. Toby at the gate to meet us and off go PDA, Nate and I. First club was... I have no remembrance; they had mojitos, does that help? Second club, garden setting, mojitos and grilled meat on a platter. We eat with our fingers. Toby advises Fidel’s son was in the house, he’d introduce, but undoubtedly thought better as they had, mojitos. Mucho mojitos. Third club, jackpot. Remember George Costanza stumbling into the “forbidden city” of gorgeous women? I’d found the same portal; seriously. I learned later the club was above “The House of Models.” I was met at the door by Eva Longoria’s youngest daughter(it HAD to be, I’m certain it was) and immediately she has me by the hand, whisking me off to the bar. They had mojitos. Uncle Toby was buying, I think. It didn’t matter, Little Eva was offering twin scoops of cafe gelato, al fresco. Gorgeous. She must have been a swimmer as she kept massaging my pecs and asking to join her at the pool. Declining her, she asked for money for cigarettes. I thought she was an athlete? I had $21CUC. She got the 20, I'm’ still awaiting change. Off she goes and over comes PDA to encourage me, telling me what I should have done with the two scoops. Really, you can do that AT the bar?? Huh. On deck sweetie steps up; she’s closer to Carol Kane’s daughter, maybe her sister. Gads. I’m really not interested but she also wants money for cigarettes. Here’s a CUC, doll. I pull my pockets inside out, indicating all I have left is a Sig VI in my shirt pocket. And then I notice Nate running for the door, I’m on his six immediately. PDA and Toby have disappeared! We bound down the steps propelled forward by gravity and knowing PDA has left the building. We catch them just as they’re approaching the car. “You would have found your way back to the house, sooner or later.” Right mate, and I’ll use the change from the cigarettes for cab fare. Back at the house, now 3:30am. From Day One I’d wondered why the marble tiled wall was only scant inches from the front of the seat in the loo. Seated, more suspended in animation, I was delighted to learn that morning the cold marble was perfectly postioned, applying firm, but cool pressure against my throbbing frontal lobe. All told, what hurt most? Little Ms. Kane, had purloined my Sig VI. Keep the CUC honey, all I want is my damn Cohiba! Gads. And there friends, is the true accounting of the blue suede boots. Notice MY boots on the bench; in the right light, more then ample in providing a bit of reflective flash AND perfect for chasing down a fleeing pimpmobile! Now, would you trust this man in a meat market, anywhere?