Fireworks
July 20, 2009
The couple meandered down the boardwalk, taking in all the sights as they waited for the beachside fireworks display to begin.
“Do you want to get a towel so we can sit on the beach and watch them?” he asked innocently.
“This is a pretty good spot right here,” she replied, leaning her folded arms across the metal railing on the stone wall. They had a perfect view right out over the water and away from the crowd.
“But watching them from the beach will be cool. C’mon, let’s go.” He started moving away.
“Well, not for nothing, but I’m thinking that it’ll be crowded wherever we sit down there, and I really don’t want to get sand in my underwear,” she answered. “OK?” She didn’t mean to be a no-funster, but it seemed more trouble than it was worth. “Besides, we’re closer to the car here, and we’ll have a better chance at beating the hordes when we leave.” Let’s be practical, she thought.
“But that’s what the towel is for! I want to sit as close as possible,” he persisted. “Let’s watch them from the beach. Come on.” Next to them, a grandmother was micro-supervising her grandchildren. They were whacking each other with plastic light-up swords.
“We’re AT the beach!” she said, a little impatiently. “How much closer are we REALLY gonna get?”
