Everybody Is Still In One Piece

Mav and I took our time getting down to the beach last Friday night. Perhaps that set the tone - our tone - for the weekend. "Let me do my own thing. You people are driving me crazy." It has been a great summer but I am looking forward to getting back to my life in DC. Settling into the fall. Maybe putting on a scarf. A sweater. But what will happen to the Bronze Goddess Glow? Do I have to give that up? I'm already researching my options. Will report later.

So time? We took it. And the house missed us. They left us various messages inquiring as to our whereabouts - you see, we usually "bring the tequila" to the party. So they are lost. In our absence, they settled on staging Mav's Foxy Cleapatra wig and one of my boas on the table in homage to us.

Break for a picture. Boa and Mav, Gooseless. Sad but true.

So we had two encounters Friday night.

Boy With Backward Baseball Cap. Mav likes boys with backward baseball caps. I don't. But he stopped to talk and I ended up "liking" (for all of 2 minutes) his friend - via phone - who lives in Somewhere, PA. He's a skater and makes "cool t-shirts." (Cool t-shirts are so last year.) Then BWBBC did a tragic thing. He took his hat off and then put-the-hat-back-on-goshness ensued. "I see why you keep the hat on." He had a bad case of an overgrown InnKeeper bowl cut that was trying to be "cutting edge." But it wasn't working. Really. We backed away slowly.

Guy Who Looks Like Mark Ruffalo And May Have Cut Mav Up Into Pieces. He had that cocky bow-down-to-me vibe. Mav is so impressed with assiness - she can give it right back. Me? I leave. And you know what? That is the last I heard from Mav the rest of the night....

"I'm going to bed. But let me just make sure Mav is ok."

My cell phone: Ring Mav! Ring Mav!
The bedside table right next to me: Ring! Incoming call from Boa!

Two things wrong with this scenario. First, Mav not with one of her many tools of communication? I have never seen it before! Second, she could very well be cut up into tiny pieces and she left no breadcrumb trail. As in, "See you later, I am going with this guy so-and-so. Meet him." So I remembered I never caught the name of the last guy I saw her with. All that I can offer the police when I file the Missing Persons report is, "Well, officer he looked like Mark Ruffalo."

Officer: "Who is Mark Ruffalo?"

"You know, he was in that movie, you know the one, actually a bunch of them, what were they....?"

Officer: "Who did he star with in any of these movies?"

"Er......I promise if you saw him you would know who he is."

So I left her a scolding voicemail about the perils of not taking your phone and/or not telling your friend where you are going when you leave with strange boys.

"And do I have to remind you of the time the cell phone saved my life. When I was in the white cab and he started driving on the back roads and was going away from my house and I took out my phone......"

And then I gave her bed away.

7 AM on Saturday morning, Mav comes barrelling up the steps to the loft.

"Boa get your ass up and let's go to breakfast."

I sheepishly come to, recount the night before, yawn, then say, "Good I am glad you are in one piece. It better have been a good night. Now don't ever do that again. You buying?"

So we go eat breakfast with all the regulars. Not the Drunk Hungover People, AKA US!, who are still tucked soundly in bed. Mav already met a few of the old-timers. She says "hi" to her friend Henry. I don't ask questions. But Mav made a lot of friends in the 6 hours since I last saw her.

After breakfast we sat on the beach. We laid down on the sand. I closed my eyes.

"This mattress is so comfortable. It's nice how you can conform it to your body. This is peaceful. Waves crashing. Light breeze.....Good night Mav."

"Good night Boa."

And it would have been so restful until the dogs started sniffing us. People started walking over us. The beach tractor sand smoother thing roared by us and that damn bell kept ringing. Over and over.

"Do I come into your bedroom and ring bells?"

Right. The alarm clock to get our asses moving again for the Same Day disguised as Another Day. People, it's Groundhog Day this summer.