An aid to fix the memory in my head

Stories are important.   In the end, they are all that is left.   All the present moments leave us.  Stories endure:

"For old time sake, darling won't you break this heart of mine.
Make no mistake, we could never fake a love so fine."

So the Ronin hits what he perceives is a new low.  And indeed it is very low under the ocean.   A real low for Low Ronin.    For it has been recounted that: 

The Low Ronin drives a little slower.  The Low Ronin is a real goer.
Low Ronin is the one to meet yeah!
Low Ronin don't use no gas now
Low  Ronin don't drive to fast
Take a little trip
Take a little trip
Take a little trip and see.

Just when all hope seemed lost, the Ronin washes ashore into the da da dum.. the Blood Orange Lagoon.  Now our story starts to become extremely citrusy.  For who would have thought that in the next hour, our whole existence would be turned upside down by that most malevolent of all citrus fruits, the "Blood orange."  The blood orange is the only thing worse than having a brother in law who suddenly comes out of the closet and starts dating the most flamboyant queen in the small town that your favorite sister resides in.  Take that back. The blood orange is the only thing worse than having a brother in law who suddenly comes out of the closet and then marries the most flamboyant queen in the small town that your favorite sister resides in.  Take that back.  The blood orange is the only thing worse than having a brother in law who suddenly comes out of the closet and then marries the most flamboyant queen in the small town that your favorite sister resides in and then puts the wedding details in the small town newspaper.   Back that take:  closet, orange, queen, town, put, reside, in, buoyant sister wants to move out of the town but her two kids are still in high school and don't want to leave.

I could have sworn that I had never been to the blood orange lagoon before.   But this is a much different story.  As soon as I washed ashore, I could tell that I was drawing attention from something.    Attention of the worst kind.   Attention that cannot help but result in catastrophe.   Yes, I'm speaking about that kind of attention than can only be resident in one place.  And no, I'm not talking about the attention you get in a small town when your husband suddenly comes out of the closet and starts dating the most flamboyant queen in town, etc. etc. etc.  

So I decide to call it a night at the local inn on the cove within walking distance of said lagoon.  I saunter up the to the bar.   "Yo innkeep, how about a room and a shot of Don Julio Anejo."

"I'm so sorry senor, but we don't want no trouble here."

"What are you talking about? And why are you speaking Spanish?  I thought we were in the South Pacific?"

"Did I say trouble"?  "I'm sorry, I meant to say that we don't want to no treble here.  Bass only, and I don't like your octave." 

Well La Di Fucking Da...I retorted.