Beachin

Saturday

We crawled out of bed at eleven, and didn’t make it to the beach until 2. Even if my car hadn’t broken down, while enroute to pick up Rolf’s car from the repair shop, we might not have gotten to Rehoboth Beach before 1:30 in the morning; but I was gonna try.

"Poodle Beach" was lovely. Rolf had gone to Bad Hair Day to get a trim, so I went on to lay about "Poodle" with the house mates; Rolf came down later.

I’m the one searching the beach looking for a lonely stretch so I can walk and sing. I was laying, getting some sun, listening to The Last Five Years when “Moving Too Fast” came on, and I just got out of the chair and ran towards Dewey Beach, where there are less people to create a mob scene to make me shut up, so I could sing it loud to the fishes.

Laid out more with Rolf, before leaving at 5:30 to go see, and make dinner for Paxton out at his farm house in Milton. We were supposed to be there at six-ish. I don’t think we got there until 7:15. Oh well.

He shares this farmhouse with his ex-partner. It isn’t an ideal situation at all. We love them both. They had been together as long as Rolf and I. I hate what’s happened to them.

We haven’t seen Paxton this whole summer, and it was so nice to get to cook in that kitchen. It is big and has big windows above the sink and counter top that swing out, wide open to the screened in porch. And this is a porch that they had built, with bead board cathedral ceiling painted sea foam green, with the supporting cross beams painted white, and more than a half dozen Chinese paper lanterns hanging about.

We had drinks as I cooked. (I made it nine days . . . now it’s back to one.) And sat on the beautiful teak sofa’s on the porch. The temperature had dropped into the low 70’s, or lower. So I was wrapped in the hoodie I keep in the Jeep.

We didn’t make it to the “Madonna-thon” at 59 Lake in time to avoid the cover charge. But we got there early enough to have a good time. I’m no Madonna fan, neither is Rolf; but we were so excited just to dance to some music with actual lyrics and melody lines, that we had to go. Most of the house mates were there too. One was standing on the speakers dancing with his shirt off.

We had a few drinks there, and then went back to the beach house. While I was putting the remainders of dinner in the refrigerator, oh, and making more drinks (Vodka, Cointreau, and Diet Limeade.) The rest of the boys stumbled in – with the Baby Bear – asking if anybody wanted to smoke “something mellow” with him. Well, I’m all for that.

About six of us were out on the back veranda, not all were smoking. Rolf hadn’t intended to have many more drinks, but if I was going to smoke . . . I forced my full drink into his hand and said “Here, drink this! It’ll make the sex easier for you.”

Baby Bear went and got his friend – and I don’t know what his name is – but he’s the really thin one, with really big muscles, jaw line, six-pack abs; he’s very lithe. But, I wish he’d eat something. So he comes out in these skimpy designer briefs, and he’s kind of flirting with me, and I’m kinda flirting back . . . mind you these two things: Rolf was right there, and I really don’t find this boy to be attractive.

Well, what’s-his-name asks me if he can sit where I’m sitting? It didn’t make sense because I was drunk, well maybe he wanted to sit next to Baby Bear; but I thought he wanted to sit on my lap. Which wasn’t a good idea, because I was actually sitting on a three footed end table, but he sat on my thigh, ground his butt down to my thigh bone, then started pushing against my chest so the table we were sitting on started tipping back and I had to reach out and hold onto the house with one hand, and reach down and grab the table with another . . .

Rolf got up – I thought he was going to hit him. He pulled this guy off of me, and said “Hey, I’ve got an idea! Well, it’s not really and idea, why don’t you get off him, and you sit there, and then you can sit there.”

So, Rolf and I relocate to the lounge chairs, and this guy comes up to us and starts with a set of erotic poses. Rolf and I are just looking at each other bewildered, and then he, what’s-his-name, looks like he’s insulted and hurt and leaves, shutting the door soundly behind him.

“What was that!” I said when he left. Baby Bear just shrugged his shoulders. Other’s looked like it was time for bed. Everyone went in, leaving Rolf and I alone and bewildered. When we went in ourselves, Baby Bear was headed back to enjoy the remnants of the party and sorry to see it had broken up . . . and I felt bad about that . . .

But Rolf was drunk and horny . . . I was high, drunk, and horny . . .

And Baby Bear would just have to understand; it’s just one of those things.