I recently cleaned out all the unnecessary crap I’ve accumulated in my apartment over the last 4 and a half years. Apparently when you have a HUGE attic in which to store crap, you save a lot of crap. Crap. Anyway, I came across a notebook that was completely empty except for one page on which I had written several short story titles from my college and immediately post-college experiences (I once dreamed of writing a book of short stories. This blog became an outlet for that). Now, these were only titles- no other information included- but I remembered the details to each one and sat on the floor in my dining room and read them, laughing hysterically as I recalled the stories. I’m hoping to write most of them, if not all, as blog posts. Today I’m choosing to start with one that I believe I planned to title When Seagulls Attack or Why You Should Never Try To Impress Hot Boys. I don’t actually have the list of titles in front of me right now, but that was the general idea of it.
After having graduated from college with no job prospects at all and a month and a half of stress, that July I found myself with both a part-time and a full-time job and almost no free-time, so any day off was very welcome and and the expectations were high for fun and excitement. Unfortunately, as we all know, expectations are not always met.
Back in the days before we all had cars of our own, my roommates and I would rent Zipcars for weekend excursions, trips to Target, etc. On one of my free weekends, roomie RNK and I decided to take a trip down the Cape for some fun in the sun. We got up early and took the T to our car. (Side story: we came across a very pale, fair haired young man passed out on a bench at the T stop. He clearly had missed the last train the night before after an evening of debauchery. It was really hot and sunny that day and I felt bad for him. I often wish I could go back in time and leave him a bottle of water, or at least spray him with some sunscreen).
The trip down was uneventful and we arrived at the beach just fine. After scouring the area for a place to set up camp (which took a while- beaches with the word “sandy” in their name should not be covered with rocks. This was the rockiest beach I’ve ever been to, and probably the least sandy), we settled in. A little way down the beach from us was a twenty-something guy with two kids I’ve always assumed were his niece and nephew. I’m not sure why I’ve always thought that; I guess he just seemed like an uncle. Let’s go with it. The kids were probably in the 8 to 10 age range and were clearly having a good time with their uncle, who was very attractive and playful. Attractively playful, you might say. And not afraid of freezing cold water.
Yes, unfortunately, it was mid-summer and the Atlantic Ocean around Cape Cod had not had much time to warm up yet and the water was a bit frigid. RNK refused to go in, but I persevered to try to impress the cute boy. If he could swim in the icy temperature, so could I, dammit. I’m from Vermont. We do cold! So, in I went….up to my knees…hips…shoulders…and I finally gathered up the courage to dunk my head under, which is super unlike me, all the while sneaking glances at Cutie. I floated for a while, thinking I was the shit for being one of very few people to be able to withstand the water (really, I had just gone numb), went under a few more times for good show, and then sauntered to shore.
As I made my way back towards RNK, still feeling proud of myself, a nice young couple came up to me. “Ummm…your nose is bleeding,” the woman stated. I put my hand to my nose, thinking it would just be a little trickle, and pulled my hand away. Nope. A river of blood was pouring out of my nose. I thanked the woman, put my head down, and sheepishly scurried back to RNK.
We of course had no napkins, only our beach towels, so I ended up using my shorts to to sop up the blood. As RNK tried not to laugh at me, she casually pointed out that my foot and ankle were also bleeding. Apparently, since I had gone numb in the water, I cut my foot on a rock and didn’t even feel it. I suddenly looked like an extra in a horror movie.
I went to the restroom so I could wash off my face and foot and rinse out my shorts and then we decided that it was lunch time and both ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. RNK ran to the restroom while I waited with the food. While I waited, a HUGE gust of wind came out of nowhere and took RNK’s sandwich with it. It was very sad.
Back on the beach, RNK got stung by a horsefly.
The final straw was when a seagull pooped on RNK’s towel. After that, we packed up and hit the road. This day at the beach was just not meant to be.
And I never got a second chance to impress the cute boy.
Song of the Day: Blood Red Summer by Coheed and Cambria