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PCA 2012: The Jamba Run


"The Jamba Run" is a familiar part of any day to players at the PCA. A short walk out the main door of the Coral Tower, across the taxi rank, past the multi-million dollar yachts parked in the marina and along a row of shops, sits Jamba Juice, the Paradise Island outlet for frozen fruity beverages.

Here you can get all manner of treats, cloaked in a healthiness that gives you the boost you need to climb aboard your high horse. Peach Perfections, Fruit Frenzies and Strawberry Whirls are just a few minutes and a few dollars away.

The Marina at Atlantis

But this may very well be the last PCA for such trips. This morning news filtered out that Jamba Juice was to close, possibly as soon as tomorrow, sending shock waves through the travelling poker community.

With a thirst for knowledge, and a thirst, I went down to investigate, finding the staff peering out from behind signs reading "Pineapple - out of stock", "Mango - out of stock," "Orange - out of stock." It was like walking into the election headquarters of the losing candidate.

"Is it true that you're closing?" I asked.

"That's correct," said the lady behind the counter, with enough of a pause to suggest she was tired of people putting more significance to an event than it was actually worth.

"That's terrible," I said, explaining that fruit, mashed up with some ice had rescued a few of us from an attack- hangover after a PCA party more than once.

"Can I take your order please?" she replied, with, I thought, remarkable courage.

It seemed there were just enough ingredients left out back to mix up three Caribbean Passions and a Berry Blast. For pretention's sake, we added an extra shot of protein and anti-oxidants to each. As Brad Willis put it, why risk rust.

So while my wallet was lighter my heart was heavier as I waited at the zinc counter, a place embedded with words like "fructose", "trans-fat" and "vitamins" , words that mean so much to people like us who don't really understand what they mean.

"Well," I said. "I'll be back tomorrow for the last time."

"We'll be open for two more weeks yet," she replied, already mixing the drink of a young couple waiting in line behind me.

"Two weeks? That's great," I said, disregarding the plight of this soon to be out of work member of staff in favour of my own protein needs.

A reprieve then for this iconic corner of Paradise, but one that will be missed in the years to come, certainly by the blog team who may now be at risk of developing rickets. Unless there's Vitamin-D in a bottle of Kalik beer, that is.

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