I have strongly avoided going down the shore this year. Not that I haven’t wanted to enjoy the beach and the ocean with my girls, nor to spend time my two of my best dude friends, Pirate Pete and John the Parrothead. The overwhelming factoring has been my growing disdain and disaffection with Aunt Bonnie [Mrs. Pete].
You’ve heard the expression “Some people are faucets, some people are drains?” Bonnie is the big rubber stopper at the bottom of the ocean; the ultimate suckfest. Not only is her constant yammering annoying, but her incessant need to go over her vacation day schedule and visitor pre-reservations at Casa de Pedro [interesting the way that works: She calls you and tells you when you’re coming down], and the back-stabbing trash-talk, not only of her friends, but of their kids, their families, people they know that she’s met..
It’s called the Bonnie-verse; and I’m stuck in it!
Bonnie met D’Wife when DW trained her as a social worker at Bancroft.
Little did Donna realize the “gravity” of the situation. More than 20 years later, she can’t escape the Bonnie-verse.
Don’t get me wrong … Of my closest friends, Pete and John are super-tight in the Bonnie-verse [well, Pete, duh!]. The problem is:
1) If you have Bonnie-verse friends, you may not socialize without Bonnie present. That means that D’Kid can’t see Leah, John’s daughter without both families dragging the kids to Brigantine … Guess what Bon? They see each other a LOT more than you think!
2) All your friends belong to us; us = Bonnie. Caveat: As long as they live in New Jersey, will travel to The Shore, and will pay homage to the Bonzerillista. My best friends Lisa, Tommy and Jill? Don’t exist, because Bonnie only met them at our wedding. If we mention them Bonnie gets this glazed “who?” look.
3) Once you’re in … you can’t get out. If you marry in, divorce won’t save you; Bonnie keeps in touch with a couple ex’s – she’s just careful about scheduling. Death won’t save you; Bonnie is a miraculous grudge holder. It’s amazing to me what people choose to remember vs. what they can forget.
All that being said, I was somewhat apprehensive about going down there this weekend. I certainly wanted to share the ocean with M’Girls, plus the opportunity to do a long run on the island was a big plus … oh, some unexplored territory!
I plotted my course for Sunday, got everything ready ahead of time [including checking the Mass schedules for St. Thomas (Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning)]
We got there about 1:00, blew off Church for Saturday and came off the beach around 5PM.
As the girls were changing and showering, I attended to the most pressing need … beer for Dad!
I had checking the fridge upon arrival – NASCAR Beer. Plus, D’Wife needed wine.
While in Island Liquors I was able to offer my expertise …
Dude1: We should get some beer for the girls
Dude2: They don’t drink beer
Dude1: If they don’t like it, we’ll drink it [he pulls a 6 of Harpoon Raspberry Hefeweizen]
Me [Mr. Nosy-Body, only because this jerk is in my way]: Oh, she’ll like that!
D1: She will? Is it beer?
RM: Well, it was; until they put all the raspberry shit in it. Girls love this crap! It’s sweet and fruity, and fizzy; it’s just so gay!!! I wouldn't even touch it.
D1 then noticed my Brigantine Triathlon T-shirt [complete luck of 'what was next in the drawer'] and figured me for some hardcore athlete.
D1: Have you tried the Michelob Ultra?
RM: I don't drink NASCAR beer, sorry.
He looked at the little old sun-burnt surfer beer-geek before him and chuckled to himself, “Thanks, boss.”
Philadelphia Brewing Company – Walt Wit; Newbold IPA
Martin’s Liquors, Mt. Laurel, NJ: $10.99 / 6-pack
Canal’s Berlin : $9.99
Island Beverage, Brigantine : $9.35
This may be the first time that I've ever seen beer cheaper Down the Shore than at home.
Part 2 >>>
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