White clouds drift along the Intracoastal. Traffic backs up as the bridge rises to allow a sailboat and a yacht to pass through. My American coffee doesn't look or taste American at all. It is Cafe con Leche, topped with foamy cream. I sip the strong brew while I wait for the young man who owns the Vapor Shop where I will be doing bookkeeping today. This is a hell of lot better than working in a cubicle.