Melting Pot and Mermaids

Being without a job definitely has some perks. Consider this, would I have had the privilege of witnessing first hand our very own little melting pot here on the beaches of California? I highly doubt it.

As Josh and I found out, most normal people (who are not tending their children, mind you), work in the middle of the day. This was proven as factual when on Friday day, I managed to pull Josh away from his beloved Mac (some screaming and lots of kicking required), and we made our way to the beach for a little fun in the sun. We were just settling into our plot of sand, when a group of coeds made their way next to us. I didn't think too much of the bombardment, until one of the studly guys, while sitting on his towel which was immediately next to everyone else's towels, began upheaving every last morsel of food that he had eaten in the last 24 hours. I watched, like a train wreck you can't pull your eyes off of, until he was finished. His buddy, apparently not disturbed by the new addition (his buddy's puke pile), asked him if he was 'cool.' He affirmed that he was, walked a few paces away and pulled out a much needed cigarette. The coeds continued their frisbee throwing lives as though nothing were out of the ordinary. They all later laid out together, the coeds and the puke pile.

The next person of interest was the hippie directly to my right. She had brought with her to the beach her most prized hula hoop (all silver and important-looking). Her boyfriend later showed up with a dated stereo and of course, his tribal sticks to which he started throwing and dancing with in some kind of special tribal manner. I was somewhat bewildered, but became even more perplexed when the hippie started dancing with her hula hoop in her bikini on the beach, not 40 feet from puke pile. She rolled her body and swayed with her hula hoop to the music. Imagine my surprise when more hula hippies showed up (3 more hula hippies with hula hoops in stow)! I shook it off and realized that we were most certainly not in Kansas anymore.

My last acknowledgment goes to the very overweight and very tattooed woman sitting on her beach towel, with her boyfriend sitting right next to her, gently caressing her largest tattoo, directly between her shoulder blades. Like the two scenarios mentioned above, it was impossible to take my eyes off of it. I watched helplessly as the boyfriend petted his lover's mermaid, and hoped for one of the hippie's hula hoops to hit me and knock me unconscience, that or the second coming. Since neither seemed likely, I forced myself to get up and walk to the water's edge and take a break from the barbaric sexuality taking place before me.

I began thinking of the freak show that I was privy to on our very own beach. There are certainly a wide variety of people in all their shapes and sizes (mermaids included). When Josh asked our neighbors which beach they frequented, they named one a little farther up north. Her words, "There seems to be a lot skankier people at Moonlight [the beach we go to]." If by skankier she meant coeds puking, hippies swaying to strange melodies, and large women with large tattooes being gently fondled by their partners, she was right! Be it as it may, we will absolutely visit Moonlight again and look forward to the future freak shows.