Swim, Anyone?
It occurs to me that there are only four precious days left in the best January I can remember, and I haven't yet recorded the story of my latest unfortunate wintertime incident at the beach. I love spending time at the beach during the colder months, because it's a completely different place without the scalding temperatures and swarms of sunbathers, a place that few have the opportunity to experience. However, misfortune always seems to follow me on these winter excursions. Take what happened a couple of weeks ago, for instance.
My gentleman caller, Alex, is from Kentucky, which is considerably farther from the shore than Dothan, and as a result, he could only claim about three beach trips in his life. I realize that not everyone adores the ocean like I do, but the thought of a 20-year-old having spent so little time there was quite unsettling, so while he was visiting me in Dothan, we set aside a day for his fourth, and best, beach experience.
We couldn't have asked for a better day to be there; the sun was shining, a light breeze was blowing, and the temperature was just warm enough for short sleeves. Immediately, I threw off my jacket and shoes and headed down the beach, dragging Alex with me. We walked down to the old pier, and I was delighted to find that the inlet beyond the pier was open. The water flowing in the inlet was crystal clear and cool, and I strolled along the edge, taking in the sheer bliss of it all. Being the diehard beach lover I am, I'd been wading in the water all morning, and of course, it was just as cold as one would expect in January, so when Alex began to threaten to throw me in, I objected, but without much enthusiasm. I figured that even a Kentucky boy would know better than to throw someone into an ice-cold ocean during the first month of the year. After some playful wrestling, he did manage to push me off the ledge of sand that seperated us from the shore, and having succeeded in that, he jumped down with me and suggested that we head back to the house. I agreed, took his arm, and turned to begin the walk back. Before I knew what was happening, Alex grabbed me, proclaimed in his best Southern Pentacostal voice, "I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the--," and that was the last thing I heard before I was chunked right into the inlet, clothes and all.
When I came to the surface and retrieved my sunglasses, which had floated off my head and were headed toward the ocean, I came back to the shore and tried my best to give Alex a taste of his own medicine. But alas, my sopping wet clothes and my lowered body temperature made it more difficult than I'd expected, so I only managed to drag in his bottom half. Finally, we made our peace and started the long, cold trek back to the condo. Of course, as luck would have it, we passed two or three people on the way back, who all had the same puzzled reaction to my saturated state. Alex, who was much drier than I was, greeted each one of them, and in response to their questioning stares, he simply shrugged and said, "She fell in."
You may recall that we had only set aside one day for this trip, and one doesn't normally pack a change of clothes for a day trip. And we hadn't. The sopping wet clothes on my back were the only ones I had, and all we could find in the condo were a pair of men's swim trunks and one scrub shirt. That was bad news for two people who were desperately in need of dry pants, but thanks to the condo's abundance of beach towels, we were able to clothe ourselves and relax while we waited for the dryer to do its work.
As you also have probably noticed, I was not stricken with hypothermia (although I was concerned about that for a little while). In fact, that day did shape up to be one of the best days I've ever spent at the beach, and I have to admit, it just wouldn't have been the same without my beachside baptism. I don't think there's been a day since that happened that I haven't thought about it and laughed...
My gentleman caller, Alex, is from Kentucky, which is considerably farther from the shore than Dothan, and as a result, he could only claim about three beach trips in his life. I realize that not everyone adores the ocean like I do, but the thought of a 20-year-old having spent so little time there was quite unsettling, so while he was visiting me in Dothan, we set aside a day for his fourth, and best, beach experience.
We couldn't have asked for a better day to be there; the sun was shining, a light breeze was blowing, and the temperature was just warm enough for short sleeves. Immediately, I threw off my jacket and shoes and headed down the beach, dragging Alex with me. We walked down to the old pier, and I was delighted to find that the inlet beyond the pier was open. The water flowing in the inlet was crystal clear and cool, and I strolled along the edge, taking in the sheer bliss of it all. Being the diehard beach lover I am, I'd been wading in the water all morning, and of course, it was just as cold as one would expect in January, so when Alex began to threaten to throw me in, I objected, but without much enthusiasm. I figured that even a Kentucky boy would know better than to throw someone into an ice-cold ocean during the first month of the year. After some playful wrestling, he did manage to push me off the ledge of sand that seperated us from the shore, and having succeeded in that, he jumped down with me and suggested that we head back to the house. I agreed, took his arm, and turned to begin the walk back. Before I knew what was happening, Alex grabbed me, proclaimed in his best Southern Pentacostal voice, "I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the--," and that was the last thing I heard before I was chunked right into the inlet, clothes and all.
When I came to the surface and retrieved my sunglasses, which had floated off my head and were headed toward the ocean, I came back to the shore and tried my best to give Alex a taste of his own medicine. But alas, my sopping wet clothes and my lowered body temperature made it more difficult than I'd expected, so I only managed to drag in his bottom half. Finally, we made our peace and started the long, cold trek back to the condo. Of course, as luck would have it, we passed two or three people on the way back, who all had the same puzzled reaction to my saturated state. Alex, who was much drier than I was, greeted each one of them, and in response to their questioning stares, he simply shrugged and said, "She fell in."
You may recall that we had only set aside one day for this trip, and one doesn't normally pack a change of clothes for a day trip. And we hadn't. The sopping wet clothes on my back were the only ones I had, and all we could find in the condo were a pair of men's swim trunks and one scrub shirt. That was bad news for two people who were desperately in need of dry pants, but thanks to the condo's abundance of beach towels, we were able to clothe ourselves and relax while we waited for the dryer to do its work.
As you also have probably noticed, I was not stricken with hypothermia (although I was concerned about that for a little while). In fact, that day did shape up to be one of the best days I've ever spent at the beach, and I have to admit, it just wouldn't have been the same without my beachside baptism. I don't think there's been a day since that happened that I haven't thought about it and laughed...
posted by Jesi at 7:16 PM
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