I just got off work and had to put some air in my tires because one looked a bit low. I jumped into my car and within minutes I was driving past the algae covered trailers that comprised the trailer park and was heading to the convenience store. After selecting a few items to munch on during the long drive home, I joined the single-file line waiting to be greeted by the clerk.
Man, they had blocked me in! Can you believe it!
The voice was coming from a man with a ratty seafood restaurant shirt and a paint splattered work hat.
I ignored the person and drearily gazed at the slowly turning taquitos under the heat lamp.
Ha ha! I told that asshole if he aint gonna move that boat…He better get ready to drive me to the Circle K! I need some damn beer!
I glanced over at the clerk and the other people betrothen to the line. They all seemed happy and even nodded and added in a That’s right! Not a person seemed thrown off by the idea that some guy just randomly decided to include them in his story time.
This is all perfectly normal for anyone living around my resort. Back in my neighborhood in O-Town, anyone who suddenly begins speaking to you in a line is more than likely suffering from a mental illness. Thus, I had to resist the urges I was getting to get out of the line and then to run to blend in with the products around the household product aisle.
So after pumping gas, I had to just sit for a moment and reflect that I am back. Back to the place that I have tried to escape from for years.
We Are Always Watching You!
I remember the awful day. The day that my sponsor decided to open a new shop in prosperous Cocoa Beach. We were all told to attend the mandatory meeting and then they began to split us up.
Steve, you are going to the Cocoa Beach shop and you can kiss your loved ones goodbye! Gather your belongings because we are shipping you out!
Not back to Cocoa Beach! I just got on the Satellite Beach shop team and I was enjoying the powerful waves and mellow crowd.
This was one of many attempts to escape Cocoa Beach and like the rest of my attempts; they all would end up failing.
It was cool out and the parking lot only had a few cars. I pulled out my equipment and then began to launch into a series of stretches. Suddenly, I see a middle-aged guy feverishly peddling towards me from far across the parking lot on a bike made for a pre-teen boy.
At first I doubted he was heading my way but that quickly changed.
Whats up bro! He had an ear to ear grin. Are you doing yoga?
I wanted to tell him no but he already saw me.
Show me some moves!
The whole time I kept waiting for some kind of catch. A pitch to lend him money. A pitch to join his cult. Something.
As I waited for him to come to change his tune; he began to do some toe touches and jumping jacks.
All limbered up! Lets go!
So I began to show him the stretches and poses.
When I was done, he turned and gave me a big hug.
Thanks brother! That was excellent! God bless you!
He quickly jumped onto his bike and began to furiously peddle his bike across the lot. I slowly picked up my board and began to walk to the beach. All the time, trying to decipher what just happened and why.
You know what, I will probably never fit in. I feel like Rob Lowe mixing in with Wayne and Garth in Wayne’s World. But I have to face the fact that yes, Cocoa Beach…I am back!
Until my next escape attempt!