Days of our lives, conch-style

I was walking down Simonton just after 2, and I'd already pointed one gaggle of tourists toward Schooner Wharf and another toward Ft. Zach.

I heard the two guys at a guest cottage north of Petronia before I saw them: One was fiddling with something under the hood of their truck at the curb, talking with the one on the porch.

As I got closer, the one on the porch hailed me: "Can I ask you a stupid question?"

I told him I love stupid questions.

"Is this Friday or Saturday?"

Friday for sure, I said.

"Thaaanks!," he said, grinning and nodding to his friend. Then to me: "I'm sorry to . . ."

I cut him off. No need to apologize. One reason people come to Key West is to lose track of time, and I was glad in their case that it was working. To them it really meant another day in paradise.