St. Augustine Part II- That's humble

In the marina shower room, an old guy shuffled in, moving in a way that hurt to watch. He took his shirt off to reveal a lanky, hunched form. Another patron was standing in the mirror, in another crisp polo, slicking back his hair. The old guy started garbling something like “Its so hot, It’s been so hot since the operation.” I got in the shower and enjoyed the hot water.
Within minutes of stepping into the sun in my thick cotton polo, it seemed to be soaked. We walked along the main road for a bit, then turned down a side street. Lush greens were everywhere, along the stone street and the wrought iron gates. Spanish moss was in the trees. At an intersection with another small road, a few construction workers were shoveling. The guy closest to us had one arm. He paused as we passed, looked at me, and said “What’s up?”
“Hi,” I said. I had been at sea for a time.
We wandered around the residential streets for a bit more, then headed in the direction we knew ‘town’ was. Flagler College appeared like a mountain. We took note of the coffee shop and the bookstore, and pushed on to the hardware store. The storefront looked like a Norman Rockwell painting- a Radio Flyer wagon loaded with tools, shiny beach cruiser bikes. The sixty-something man there talked to us like we were characters in Home Alone or Blank Check, buying a gallon of bleach and paper towels. We walked another block to the Post Office. For some reason, the line was out the door. What day was it? We headed back to the bookstore. I flipped through an obscure art book, then a fishing book. Pictures from the eighties- Caribbean deck hands grinning over nine-foot marlin, teak decks and gaudy names like “Screamer.” I looked as long as I could, till my stomach was folding over on itself and the images didn’t make any sense.
After eating at the coffee shop, we crossed the street to the massive structure of the College. While we were standing inside writing postcards, we got to hear the beginning of the tour. The building was originally the Hotel Ponce De Leon, one of the most luxurious in the world. Guests stayed for three months at a time, during which spouses slept in different wings of the hotel. The circular mosaic design on the floor of the main entrance was the only instance of imperfection and asymmetry in the entire hotel. A single tile is a different color than the corresponding ones around the circle. Every other tile, every brick, every bit of clay in the entire structure was designed and built in perfect symmetry. Ponce De Leon knew that only God could be perfect, so he made this one tile off-suit to represent his humbleness.