Turtle eggs and Fish eyes

Last night Erika and I treated a couple of our friends to dinner. Arthur and Dalila had been helping us for a couple days with our new house and just getting familiar with La Ceiba. Arthur knows a lot about the history of the area and seems to have a story about every building and everyone he sees. He is a good guy to know for sure.
We didn't know where to go for dinner so Arthur suggested a seafood restaurant that is supposed to be the oldest in town. The food was great. I had fish fillet with butter and Erika had a seafood soup with bits of fish, conch, crab and shrimp in it. Arthur had a fried fish and Dalila had some shrimp. All the food was delicious.
This was the first time Erika had crab, which was funny to watch. She was trying to crack open a leg with her teeth when it jumped out, pinched her shoulder and scurried to the floor. No, it was not alive, but you would think all of Erika's food is alive by the way it always finds its way to the floor.
Then Arthur showed me the correct way to finish a fish. Evidently, there is plenty of meat and good parts in the head of the fish. He pressured me in to eating an eyeball which, apart from the gooey parts that were pulled out from the eye socket, was not bad tasting and had a "tough meat" kinda texture. Then I sucked on some the fish skull until there was no more meat on it. Yum.
After the restaurant we went to a place that has the cheapest beer in town. 15 Lempiras for a beer; which comes out to be around 70 cents. This place was essentially a guys garage, you could see into his living room from where we were sitting. It was eerie walking in there though.
It was pouring rain outside. The streets were flooding and there was dampness in the air. Loud Latin music was blasting from some speakers hidden on top of giant, lighted coolers. It was not the kind of Latin music you danced to. Rather, it was the kind that made a cowboy shed a single tear as he thought of a long lost love. As we walked in a man was stretched across a bench to the right of the door. His head was off the bench and his eyes were half open but his mind was in some state of inebriation that I have not seen since freshman year of college. He did not move. A lady with one good eye and one eye that was permanently clouded and pointed towards the ceiling stared at us as we walked in. The owner sat in a hammock, equally keeping tabs on the coolers that stored the beer and on the book he was reading. A little boy went around wiping tables and a transvestite danced in the background. The bathrooms were in the back of the room and the walls surrounding them were short enough that you could keep an eye on the table your beer was on.
You served yourself. No service, no service fee, just a cold cooler and music you had to pay for.
Arthur told us about how they sold turtle eggs here. Specifically, Sea turtle eggs. The endangered kind. Evidently, they are a type of aphrodisiac. Erika and I both ate one; you just suck up the yoke with some spices on it. You could only taste the spices but you could feel the egg going down your throat whole. I think the claims of it being like Viagra are overblown.
We talked about many things; it was a good night. And as we drove home we went through sections of town with a foot or more of water in the streets, but that doesn't stop the party in the Zona Viva.