We somehow managed to book a hotel room across the street from the beach only days before. Way to go Colt. On the drive there, an interesting conversation about a mutual, uh, "friend" of my compadres that I haven't met took place. The term "class act piece of shit" was used, which I'll have to remember for future use. Passing through Savannah, we spotted a homeless person--dressed like a pirate. At least we thought it was a homeless person, now that I think about it, maybe he really had the whole pirate look nailed down. I imagine that actual pirates looked kind of like hobos.
We checked in, changed, and then hit the beach. I'd post some photos of the beach, but I didn't bring my camera or phone to the beach, because doing so at a public beach would have been colossally stupid. So you'll just have to imagine a packed beach, I know, it's hard. The water was brown and there were plenty of people who had no business wearing a 2 piece or being shirtless out and about. Perfect Hair and I went ahead of Teep and Colt, so we grabbed a location and slathered ourselves in sunscreen. Well, I slathered myself. Perfect Hair's sunscreen was the consistency of paint, so the proper term is probably "coated." That's not an exaggeration, I felt the need to break out the roller and get a couple of layers on him before we left. The insults kept coming all day. I was impressed that he was able to multitask going to the beach and getting his Clown Makeup 101 homework done. He only needed a powdered wig to complete the 18th century Frenchman look. He was the exact opposite of a minstrel show. He was the worst mime ever. He looked like he rolled around in Elmer's glue. In fairness, he didn't get any sunburn, but of course that's because he was wearing a layer of spackle.
The water was, by far, the warmest I've ever been in. It was of course great. I could have stayed out there the whole day, and we pretty much did. We threw a football around in the ocean, at one point I tweaked something in my back. It only bothered me for a moment, or so I thought. We saw some really pale guys with nearly shaven heads and lots of tattoos, if they weren't white supremacists then they should probably consider changing their look a bit. That night we did see some actual white supremacists, Tybee Island is fun for the whole family! There was a guy on what looked like a surfboard but he stood on it and paddled himself around with an oar. He was pretty good at it, he never fell, but some other people who tried it fell spectacularly. Later we played some 2 on 2 on the beach, and on lateral fest reminiscent of that crazy play by the New Orleans Saints a few years back, I tried to evade a tackle by Colt. All of the sudden, my back blew out. I dropped to my knees in pain, and my upper torso was completely stiff. I just sat there for a moment, writhing in pain but not actually moving. I could barely move, but it did not deter me. Not being able to run, I took over at QB, doing my best Drew Bledsoe impersonation: just stand there and eventually throw an interception. Were I a dad, I would have called it quits and spend the rest of the trip in the hotel watching the US Open. Speaking of the US Open, as we took a break to shower and change back at the hotel, I was watching a little of the action from Pebble Beach. Ernie Els was teeing up on a par 3 with a 9 iron, and Teep commented that "I can't respect a guy who uses a 9 off the tee." Els came inches shy of an eagle. You can't script this stuff.
We went down to the shore to get dinner, on the way some lady asked Colt if he had any money he could give her for food, but it was pretty clear that money was going to go to the purchase of crack cocaine instead. Remember this encounter. First we tried a bar that said it had food, but we decided that if we were to eat there that any puking would likely be caused by the food and not the booze. We decided to head over to the pier area, and on the way the solicitor once again asked Colt if he had any money to give her for "food." He politely reminded her that no, she already asked him. "How could I ask you if I've never seen you before in my life?" Yup, that money would be going to drugs. We wound up at a place that was a little overpriced (granted, it is a tourist destination), but it did have a giant paper table cloth and crayons for us to use. Yes, it's there for children, so I think it's okay that we acted like children. I kept it so we could put it on our fridge:
It's double sided. Really.We hadn't really been drinking by that point, but we took care of that in a hurry. Firefly vodka is a wonderful thing. We got fairly liquored up, *then* we went to the beach with more booze. Would you expect anything less? Fear not, no one got hurt. In fact, we were very well behaved. One lady asked us to "watch my drunk son's cooler until he gets back." We did, until we completely forgot about it. Oops. At one point I said "a hand of fist" and it was immediately decided that that phrase should be used more. Other interesting phrases uttered included "It feels like sink water," "It tastes like copper in the end," and "Phonetically, he was correct."
There's a big pier at Tybee Island, and apparently at all hours of the day and night there are people fishing off it. Perfect Hair and I were just chilling on the pier when the guy next to us caught a baby tiger shark:
Thankfully, the trip did not jump the shark at this point.From my understanding, that was at least the 4th one he caught. Pretty cool, except for the thought: this is where I was swimming today. Where there's baby sharks there should be adult sharks too, right?
Sunday morning we did not want to wake up. Somehow, we did, and tried to go across the street and get some breakfast at the "world famous" Breakfast Club. Any place that says it's world famous is, of course, most decidedly not world famous. If it were truly world famous, everyone would already know. The line for this place was huge and it was freaking hot out, so we said screw it and went down the street to some other diner. Turned out to be a good decision, the line was short and the food was good. I had a hankering for french toast, they didn't have any, so I really need to get some french toast sometime this week. I got an omelet and when it arrived I had the urge to eat it like a burrito for some reason.
Back to the beach! Where I got stung by a jellyfish. On my inner thigh. Awesome. At one point I went to pass the football when a fish went flying through the air. Much cooler than a jellyfish sting. Then later Colt and I saw a single fin headed on a straight line. We each did a double take but then another fin came up out of the water the the first went back down--it was a pair of dolphins, not a shark.
The drive back was not uneventful. We stopped to get gas and the guy in front of us filled up his Miata with about 2 more gallons than it holds. It was just pouring down the back of his car, and you could see it bubbling out of the gas tank there was so much. The thought occurred that while he was inside getting something to clean up with that we should siphon out as much gas as we could. Later we stopped at another gas station to grab some drinks and Perfect Hair noticed that their adult DVD selection was separated by race. Interesting.
We drove through a thunderstorm on the way back. Was this an omen or merely a coincidence? We shall see.
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