On the left, with blue awnings over the windows, is the dining room. On the right, as if through my instamatic darkly, the banana leafed palapas can be made out on the patio. Waiters bustle in red jackets and black bowties. The menus are on tall chalkboards, brought to your table.
During dinner on the patio, the stars flicker through the fronds and the plankton phosphoresce when the waves break. The mariachi go from table to table and your hand brushes along your sweetie's leg. Oooh, baby.