Roll Your Bod – Florida Tan Tuesday, Part 2

If you missed last week’s chapter of this exciting adventure, click here.


“It must be too early for anyone else to be here,” I remember commenting as the three of us plodded across the hot sand, already gratefully welcoming the cool breeze. We staked out a spot on the nearly barren beach, someplace between where the car was still in view and the foaming crashing waves of the ocean. Near the water’s edge, we watched as hermit crabs disappeared underneath the wet sand, leaving behind bubbling little holes in their wake.

Little by little, fellow sunbathers came to the beach. Some remained in outfits of loose-fitting gauze or something comparably flowing who huddled beneath umbrellas. Of them we thought, why bother coming to the beach? Others, whose skin were like tanned leather and of them we thought, hmm, we’ve got some catching up to do. Good Heavens, we were from NJ, after all and in desperate need of some color. If laying in my own backyard with a book during the summer months could garner a supple healthy looking tan, albeit after a pesky bout with a sunburn, then certainly full on Florida sun at the height of summer would more than do the trick.

Linda, or Binda if you will, Bin for short, Donahue (Donna) and I, Grain (don’t ask me why–and I can’t believe I’m divulging that tidbit, but there it is) alternated constantly between sand and surf, enjoying the restorative properties of the cooling water and each time we’d return to our blankets, we’d alternate from sunning our front and back sides.

There was a point during the day, while Donahue and Binda were huddled ear to ear listening to yet another loop of the one music cassette they’d brought, I flipped over and had my head at their feet. Now that the music was away from my ears, I began to hear a curious scratching sound beneath my head and I was certain it had to be one of those hermit crabs clawing its way to the surface of the sand. I kept a lazy but vigilant watch on the surface beneath me hoping to stave off a hermit crab attack, latching its claw onto my earlobe, making me shriek in pain and horror. On and on that scratching sound continued and it finally hit me; it was Donahue’s toes digging in the sand.

“I could use a soda.” I think we all said it in unison and we scraped together enough money and the girls offered to go to the snack bar, giggling like girls do as they scampered off out of view. Ah, now I could try to find some other music to listen to at least while they were gone. When they returned, the sodas had already started turning warm from the intense heat and if memory serves (remember this was 29 years ago) I think the girls said they were a little short on cash, but the guy let them go anyway. I guess it pays to giggle and scamper sometimes.

“We should probably think of heading back,” I said sometime later, suggesting we take up our mission again tomorrow, and by three o’clock we were gladly ready. You know how the bright sun tends to “bleach” one’s vision and as we attempted to compare our “differences”, to see just how successful our first day of tanning went, we were disappointed to see nothing but white. “I can’t believe we’ve been here since ten o’clock, and nothing!”

Defeated, and wondering just how long it would take to get our sought after tans, we rolled up our blankets, gathered our belongings and headed back to the car, each step an increased burden. A blast furnace whoosh of air greeted us as we swung open the car doors and oh man were those dark vinyl seats hot. We situated towels and blankets to sit on for the drive home and even with that between our burning flesh and the nearly melting seats, it was like sitting on shards of glass. Once our eyes had begun to adjust to the toned down light inside the car we could finally start to see our “differences” and we slowly and nervously drove back to my grandparents’ trailer. With the last words spoken to us as we set out earlier that morning, not to say long on the beach, started to make sense, only one thing was on our minds.”They’re gonna kill us!”

To be continued….


One Response to “Roll Your Bod – Florida Tan Tuesday, Part 2”

  1. Donna Says:

    I had forgotten but now remember my toes digging into the sand to make that scratching sound you were trying to identify. I don’t remember though which cassette Bin and I brought. I should try to contact her and have her read the Florida tan story! We were so anxious to have a “difference” LOL!

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