We went on vacation, which consisted of many hours of beach time and precisely zero hours of true relaxation. But that's the way we like it. Every year I take my daughter to surf camp. She loves it. She's pretty good too. When she actually tries to get up and isn't making excuses. But that rant is for another day.
We went to Jax Beach, which is our general place to visit because I have so much family there. Plus, I never have to rent a room. Which makes it like the cheapest ten day vacation anyone could ever have. And I'm frugal if I'm anything. Or poor. Either way, cheaper is better. Also, not the point of this post.
This year, we took several newcomers. Three to be exact. Three people who have never been to that part of Florida. One who had never seen the Atlantic before, but she is only 9, so I give her a tad bit of leniency.
One of the newcomers was my friend, Shelley. One evening, after being on the beach all morning and part of the afternoon, we decided to go "downtown" to visit a few shops and spend some money. Well, the whole evening started out with me having to use the potty so, so very bad.
While everyone was visiting a shop, I walked across the street to a restaurant to see if they cared if I used their restroom. Since they were so gracious, I decided to buy a drink from the bar. From that point, I should have known it would be an interesting endeavor, but no. Why would I listen to my instinct? How dare that conscience tell me to just drink my drink, pay and walk away?
Normal people would drink their whiskey and ginger ale and leave a nice tip and go back to join the rest of their group. I am not normal. I called them over, told them the drinks were great, the menu looked awesome, and the place wasn't crowded, so our rowdy little girls wouldn't be able to disrupt many. This is where it went bad.
All of us, four young girls, three adult women, were enjoying our food and drinks outside on the patio when a few dumbass guys joined. Our first thought should be, "who in the hell walks over, sits down at a table where three women are eating, and just joins in their conversation?" That wasn't our thought. My mind was on ordering another drink. Their minds were on, well, I'm not sure.
One guy, who was apparently flaming, was the worst one upper one could ever imagine. I was so distracted by him saying things like "I know the owner of that store, you girls should take those shells back and we'll go get some for free off the beach." And, "when I was swimming with sharks, one came up really close and scared me so much that I actually walked on water." I was so distracted by that, I missed things like him being a crossdresser. And one of the girls saying "but I bought a blue starfish?" As if to ask if there are any blue starfish on the beach just hundreds of feet away. She surely hadn't seen one earlier that day.
When he was talking about walking on water, I wanted to ask him if he were a carpenter. He wouldn't have even understood, so it's probably best I didn't take a chance to be snarky. After we got home, since my gaydar is out of batteries, the children informed me of his stories of crossdressing. Which I apparently hadn't even bothered to listen to. Yeah, this guy, not appropriate for kids. At all.
The other guy, well, he was busy hitting on Shelley. To the point that some time during the evening, he opened his pants so that she could see his schlong. Now, the word schlong here is rather misleading as it contains the word "long." And I'm not usually one to bash on a man's size since it is genetic, and well, my genes made me have like the ugliest feet I've ever seen on any non-neanderthal. Either way, it isn't the fact that this limp was a shrimp. It is the fact that he is apparently so proud of his friend that he decided to show it during "girls night out." If you have the nerve to show off your sausage, wouldn't you rather it not be a vienna?
In the end, we all learned a few lessons. 1. I suck at knowing who is gay or straight. 2. Random guys at restaurants that are so tactless that they will interrupt your not-so-cheap dinner are probably not the type of people that should be allowed around children. 3. Feet size are definitely not an indicator of penis size. 4. Family vacations with Meg always, always have at least one night of total hilarity.
The good thing about this was that we laughed and had fun for ten whole days. There wasn't one day where I didn't laugh my ass off about something. Even if it was because in the back of my mind I couldn't wait to tell you guys about limps and shrimps.
P.S. This post really does no justice to the awesomeness of that one evening.
P.P.S. Eat more chocolate.