Boating; I never thought I'd say; "Put your top on....
Words I never thought I'd say to a young woman; "Please put your top on....
How times have changed. The last fling of summer was always blur of partying but today it is more likely an alcohol induced stupor for many of our future leaders. Almost make me glad I won't be around.
I am speaking of college students and their friendly bartenders. Once the brain-iacs reach 21, they don't have to sneak alcohol into their dorms or frat houses. They can saunter into any bar, drop dad's underwritten credit card on the bar and proceed to get plastered on shots of Jägermeister.
"I've seen them drink themselves sober, if that's possible," said a local bartender. And in that vane I volunteered to take a few college students out to Picnic Island for a day picnic. Three college girls, two college boys, a bartender and a waitress joined in. I can't identify who the college kids are related to except to say all are "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" members.
These kids travel light, ice, sodas and a little beer. I brought sausages, cheese, buns and condiments to cook on the beach. I had a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the cooler but wasn't interested in having one before lunch. As it turned out I never touched one although one would have tasted good with the sausage.
We beached the boat to unload and then put a lunch hook in the sand. Pushed the boat off and stern anchored. The tide was going out. Despite all the brown water, the youngsters were determined to swim. Shortly after eleven I noticed a half empty bottle of Jägermeister next to several bikini tops on the beach.
During lunch I convinced the girls to put their tops on because they were scaring the little children (actually the only family moved around the other side of the island way before because of the incessant f-bombs) and a group of old fellows were taking pictures. As we sat around the grill and ate lunch they passed around the second bottle of Yeager and drank my PBR, all of my PBR.
I asked one of the girls whom I've known since grade school if the language bothered her, "Fuck no," she replied. I'm sure she enjoyed the shock value of her remark. She was already drunk and after a bit the bartender was the only one drinking from the third bottle of Jägermeister.
The day had been cloudy and I felt confident that no ta-tas were sunburned. The crack of distant thunder focused my thoughts on getting back to the dock. It was well timed because the oversized rain drops fell on us as we unloaded the boat at my dock.
During the debriefing at poolside I threatened them not to drive. Most of them staggered down the canal to their respective G-parents houses but some of the drunkest crashed on my pool furniture. The bartender and waitress snuggled on my large hammock and slept for several hours totally oblivious to the downpour just a few feet away.
After the storm moved away, an angry G-mother accosted me as I walked my dog. "What did you do to my G-daughter?" I plead the fifth. Admitted to feeding her sausages and a beer but nothing else. "Her breasts are on fire!"
Some crimes can't be lied away! Florida sun is sneaky, you know.
Boatguy Ed (boatguiEd@aol.com)is the manufacturer of the worlds BEST anti-fouling bottom paint,www.supershipbottom.com. TWEET me @boatguyed and a corresponding web site is http://www.boatingbyboatguyed.com/ ........ NEVER, EVER TRY TO BUY HIM A DRINK!
How times have changed. The last fling of summer was always blur of partying but today it is more likely an alcohol induced stupor for many of our future leaders. Almost make me glad I won't be around.
I am speaking of college students and their friendly bartenders. Once the brain-iacs reach 21, they don't have to sneak alcohol into their dorms or frat houses. They can saunter into any bar, drop dad's underwritten credit card on the bar and proceed to get plastered on shots of Jägermeister.
"I've seen them drink themselves sober, if that's possible," said a local bartender. And in that vane I volunteered to take a few college students out to Picnic Island for a day picnic. Three college girls, two college boys, a bartender and a waitress joined in. I can't identify who the college kids are related to except to say all are "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" members.
These kids travel light, ice, sodas and a little beer. I brought sausages, cheese, buns and condiments to cook on the beach. I had a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the cooler but wasn't interested in having one before lunch. As it turned out I never touched one although one would have tasted good with the sausage.
We beached the boat to unload and then put a lunch hook in the sand. Pushed the boat off and stern anchored. The tide was going out. Despite all the brown water, the youngsters were determined to swim. Shortly after eleven I noticed a half empty bottle of Jägermeister next to several bikini tops on the beach.
During lunch I convinced the girls to put their tops on because they were scaring the little children (actually the only family moved around the other side of the island way before because of the incessant f-bombs) and a group of old fellows were taking pictures. As we sat around the grill and ate lunch they passed around the second bottle of Yeager and drank my PBR, all of my PBR.
I asked one of the girls whom I've known since grade school if the language bothered her, "Fuck no," she replied. I'm sure she enjoyed the shock value of her remark. She was already drunk and after a bit the bartender was the only one drinking from the third bottle of Jägermeister.
The day had been cloudy and I felt confident that no ta-tas were sunburned. The crack of distant thunder focused my thoughts on getting back to the dock. It was well timed because the oversized rain drops fell on us as we unloaded the boat at my dock.
During the debriefing at poolside I threatened them not to drive. Most of them staggered down the canal to their respective G-parents houses but some of the drunkest crashed on my pool furniture. The bartender and waitress snuggled on my large hammock and slept for several hours totally oblivious to the downpour just a few feet away.
After the storm moved away, an angry G-mother accosted me as I walked my dog. "What did you do to my G-daughter?" I plead the fifth. Admitted to feeding her sausages and a beer but nothing else. "Her breasts are on fire!"
Some crimes can't be lied away! Florida sun is sneaky, you know.
Boatguy Ed (boatguiEd@aol.com)is the manufacturer of the worlds BEST anti-fouling bottom paint,www.supershipbottom.com. TWEET me @boatguyed and a corresponding web site is http://www.boatingbyboatguyed.com/ ........ NEVER, EVER TRY TO BUY HIM A DRINK!
This blog/column is meant for educational purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Void where prohibited. Some assembly required. Do not read while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment.
Comments