Beach Blanket Armageddon

Today my sister invited me to come with her to the beach. I was feeling down in the dumps so I accepted gladly. Perhaps a little too gladly, she must have thought I had ulterior motives, like this was some reality show and I get a million dollars if she invites me to the beach.

I let her know that I was just glad to get out and do something. Lately, whenever I’m not sitting around my apartment, I’ve been doing a lot of group activities, only by myself. I’ve gone to bars, browsed through the library, gone on long walks. All of these would be perfect dates if I were accompanied by anything but my keys.

Anyway, the whole beach thing was pretty fun. We didn’t stay long because high tide came in soon after we arrived; mother nature’s way of sweeping away the philistines and tourists. But, we stayed just long enough so I could get a nice, even sunburn.

It all happened pretty quickly, the sunburn. I was surprised at how soon after I spread out my beach blanket and sat down that I began to smell bacon. One minute I’m sitting, relaxing, spying the nubile beach bunnies that were all WWWWWWAAAAAYYYYYY out of my league, and then the next minute, “Foom!” it was like a turkey had exploded in the oven. I was instantly sunburned in painful and exotic places.

Aside from the fact that I look like an all-you-can-eat platter at Red Lobster, I had a great time. It was a refreshing and much needed change to go somewhere and have someone to talk to. Sure, I could be the guy who tries to strike up a conversation with strangers, but admit it, that guy creeps you out.