It’s grand to live a few minutes from the beach.
Sunday and Monday we settled into the beach by 8am with a Starbucks venti cappucino and our Nooks, successfully beating the crowds.
I read six books while the waves crashed around me.
I lazed under my supersized Tommy Bahama umbrella in a long sleeve shirt and a thick coating of sunscreen.
I was alone as every other person baked in the sun without sunscreen and many sun worshippers were hatless.
My fav pair were two twenty something bikini babes who baked for hours in between gorging on Doritos, Tortilla chips, potato salad and rotisserie chicken which they ripped apart with their hands and washed down with forbidden alcohol.
I am a bit curious as to how their collective stomachs reacted to the chicken which they left sitting in the sun for hours.
I tried to escape from thoughts of the hurricane hitting my place in Delray, Florida which is in Dorian’s path of destruction.
My housesitter took precautions and now it is a wait and see scenario.
Two years ago, I literally stepped off the plane from Iceland and Queen E. called hysterical, urging me to find a place for her as Hurricane Irma was due to hit Florida in 2 days.
I had begged her to let me fly her to Connecticut before I left, but she stood her ground.
I delivered and she spent a week sequestered in a hotel suite with her aide.
Naturally, Queen E. has been in my thoughts.
This holiday weekend I also was verbally attacked by a drunk, medicated 45 year-old Spanish asshole at a high end restaurant, attempting to deflect his advances directed at the bartender who we adore…all I could think of was my daughter having to endure the harassment.
Management wanted to throw him out, but we left because I was tired of his ranting and his odiferous saliva spraying my face due to his hyper agitation, but not before I took a moment to dress him down.
There are too many lunatics floating around this country…Agent Orange has opened the floodgates.
Forget border wall discussions, we need to build a wall around the White House and lock him up.
That’s why I read and hide away at the beach, “Under My Umbrella Ella Ella, Eh, Eh, Eh…”
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