‘Life’s a Beach’ - or - AnD nOw FoR sOmEtHiNg CoMpLeTeLy DiFfErEnT -

[marley9808]

Sorry, I was using this definition which is why the term shallow was what I used to describe Fabs

shallow :
Judging a person based strictly on looks, not factoring in their personality whatsoever.

I guess it was a judgement to refer to him as shallow, but it wasn't a judgement any harsher than his judgements based on appearance IMO

Anyways, on with the story of which I had no complaints, in fact I was defending...

[rastalady]

K3,
I am enjoying your thread so much and since I can't wait for even the next paragraph, I am purchasing your books on Amazon.
I can't wait.
Thanks

[Kahuna3]

. . . . .

Anyways, on with the story of which I had no complaints, in fact I was defending...

No Problem marley9808 . . . on with the report

!!! Pabulum Alert !!!

This morning I awoke with a hangover. I thought a beach walk might clear my head so I set out. I looked up at Fabs balcony as I passed, the door was closed – no surprise there.

Shortly after I started along the beach I picked up a companion, a young male beach dog. He trotted happily beside me, occasionally jumping up to put his paws on my thighs as I walked. He seemed inordinately happy for one who was so emaciated and mange infested.

It was a beauty of a day – a strong breeze blowing ashore – a blessed welcome relief from yesterday which was oppressively humid.

I walked and walked and as I did I felt my hangover gradually subsiding. Soon I was north of the little path the goes through the trees just beyond Long Bay Beach Park. On the little stretch of uninhabited beach that lies there, I encountered a beautiful, tall, slender grey egret with a gorgeous mantle of sleek gray feathers. He was stealthily stalking the shallows on his stilt legs, hunting for his breakfast. I stopped, sat on a nearby uprooted tree trunk and watched him for a while.

On my way back, as I traversed the path through the trees, I heard the sound of squealing car tires. I listened for the ‘crash-thump-tinkle’ sound of an impact, but heard none.

There was a pause of about thirty seconds and then the squealing sound repeated. Curious, I moved into a position such that I could observe what was going on.

A police car was stopped by the side of the road and there were a few cars parked behind it. As I watched I saw a cop get behind the wheel of one of the stopped cars and gunned it; I mean he floored the gas pedal. The car roared as it accelerated. Just as it was getting abeam of where I was standing, the cop driving the car let off the gas and stood on the brakes – the car screeched to a noisy stop. The cop turned around and drove back to where he’d started. There he got out of the car, relinquishing it, apparently, to the owner. The process then repeated itself with the next car.

I soon came to understand that this was a roadside brake check, Jamaican style. Now, imagine if you were driving down the Interstate and a Trooper waved you over, got behind the wheel of your car, floored the gas, accelerated up to 60MPH and then hammered on the brakes! How would you feel?
I walked back to the hotel and sat down on a lounge where I rested for a few minutes. A woman on a lounge a few yards from me got up and headed for the sea. Obviously, I figured she was going for a swim. She waded slowly out to the point where her butt was half-immersed in the water. There she paused for a minute, and then she turned around and walked back out and relined on her lounge.
Hmmmmm . . . .

If you are wondering what Fabs and I did last night – well, it was an interesting evening, to say the least. I just have to figure out how to write it so that it doesn’t get completely redacted.

I’m working on it.