It’s a Beach Wednesday!
Whatcha doing at work?
|Coming back from Africa, I was tan, and I mean African sun tan. My stop-off in Florida was filled with even more sun, so by the time I got back to DC, I was so tan as to be even more melinated than the New Orleans wedding crew.
Unfortunately, since then nature hasn’t been so cooperative. With endless cloudy skies that tease me with hints of blue and an occasional sunbeam, I started to loss my color, slowly reverting to my basic ass-white self.
I couldn’t let that happen though. I have an image to uphold, no matter how much work it takes, so this Wednesday I took a drastic step: I drove three hours south to Virginia Beach for a day golden rays on golden sands.
So while others were relaxing in their morning commute, on the way to their endless cubicle farms, I was ankle high in stress, scouting the beach for the proper sun-aligned dune.
Right about now I should mention that I wasn’t alone. My newest partner in crime, Yana, was along for the ride. Escaping from her graphic design job for the day, we were both looking to get color back into our lives.
She, being a little darker to begin with, didn’t apply the same dedication that I did in this solar pursuit, even leaving the beach in the middle of the day to flirt a free beer from a cutie bartender along the boardwalk.
She did apply funky kuza-hemp tanning oil, which is the first time I’ve ever used such stuff. And it will be the last, for while it did get us brown, we were so sticky with oil and sand by the end of the day that we set off on an hour-long odyssey to wash it off.
First we cruised the beach, looking for a shower, but found that Virginia Beach, like the rest of the Fascist State, wasn’t about to allow such conveniences. No, there were only foot-washing spigots in an apparent attempt to make sure that only hotel-staying guests visited the beach.
As world-travelers, that didn’t even slow us down. We just bought a few gallons of water, found a secluded beach walk, and busted out bucket showers. Even with some rough and sadly scrubbing, that damn oil didn’t come off before we went through two washes and four gallons of water.
Still, as we drove back to DC, tan and happy, it was worth it. Every minute of the drive, and all the scrubbing, for we are tan and you’re not!