Story 553: Laboring on Labor Day

             “Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh….”

“What are you all stretched out smugly on the couch for?”

“Oh, just reveling in the fact that for the first time in more than 10 years, I get Labor Day off from work.  The actual day, mind you – not some pity day later in the week when fall has unofficially started, no: the actual day.  The last day of lifeguarded pools and beaches is mine, all mine, mwahahahahaha!”

“We already agreed to host Labor Day barbecue at our house this year.”

“…Drat.”

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            “You know, it’s a real bummer that no matter what the holiday, some of us still have to clock in like it’s a regular ol’ work day.  I made my peace years ago with losing Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, Memorial Day, Juneteenth, Fourth of July, my birthday, my partner’s birthday, my children’s birthdays, and World Chocolate Day, but losing Labor Day on top of all those especially sticks in my craw for some reason.  I think it’s the irony of the whole situation, that even on a day specifically designated to give laborers a break, some of us still have to work regardless, or else life as we know it falls apart.  I don’t think I’ll ever stop being bitter about it.”

“Mm-hmm: will you be closing up the incision on this patient now, Doctor, or would you like me to do it?”

“Nah, I got it.  Livin’ the dream, am-I-right?!”

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“I can’t believe I have to spend Labor Day helping people with trying on every piece of clothing we have in the store, and then cleaning up the disgusting messes they leave behind that somehow are more than they brought in with them, plus trying to set up autumn and Halloween displays in-between policing the dressing rooms and the even-filthier restrooms, when I could be relaxing on a deck chair next to an inground pool while barbecue sizzles behind me and impish children roughhouse around me.  It’s just not fair.”

“I thought you weren’t invited to any barbecues this year – that’s why you volunteered to work on Labor Day in the first place?”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

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“I’ve finally made it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I finally have a job that actually gives us Labor Day off.”

“That’s great!  You’ve been wanting that for years, and it’s happened at last!  Congratulations on the paid holiday!”

“Thanks!”

“So, what’re your big plans for your well-deserved three-day weekend, so long overdue?  It’s the last unofficial day of summer – you can do anything you want, absolutely anything!”

“You’re right!  The world is my oyster, and I can seize the entire day until it’s completely dried up!”

“Exactly!  What adventures will you embark on joyously that day, then?”

“…I have no idea.”

Story 510: And the Rains Came

“I love autumn!”

“You do?”

“Oh yes: the colorful leaves, the crisp cool weather, the mums and pumpkins all out on cheerful display – ”

“HA!”

“…I fail to perceive the cause for that outburst.”

“Where have you been the past 20 years?!  We don’t get autumn anymore!”

“We don’t?”

“No!  We get Summer 2.0 and then the Rainy Season, often interchangeably, up to and including winter.”

“But we still get all the stuff I mentioned.”

“Barely!  The leaves don’t noticeably change until November; the weather skips crisp-cool and instead does blazing-freezing; we’re lucky the mums make it to September and the actual start of autumn before they burn up; and the pumpkins are regularly imported due to the rot from the constant rain, rain, rain!”

“Rain’s not all that bad; it’s not as if we have to deal with monsoons every year like some places.”

“You’re right, it isn’t all that bad: the times when it stops once a week and you don’t have to swim to get out of the house, it’s just fine!”

“Well, we’re lucky our area didn’t get hit with the hurricanes this year.”

“That we are; not so lucky are all the other places that did get hit, multiple times.”

“What about the areas suffering from drought and wildfires?”

“All the more reason that it’s so awful we get excess when those places are the ones that need at least their share!”

“I guess.  Still, I like all the decorations that are out for Halloween and autumn in general, those are always fun.”

“When they’re not being swept away down the rising river that used to be the street, sure.”

“All right, so the autumn I’m visualizing is more of the autumn we used to get before the Earth started taking revenge on us; I’ll still enjoy what’s out there, in-between the raindrops.”

“That’s a great attitude, considering the heavens just opened up again for Round 300 and last I heard this downpour won’t end until later in the month at the earliest.”

“Well, it could always be worse.”

“How so?”

“Could be snow.”

Story 509: Off-Season Day at the Beach

(At a sparsely-populated beach on an extremely overcast day, Friend 1 trundles along a cart of supplies to a spot just above the continental shelf, then sets up a chair, towels, and large umbrella in ever-strengthening wind before stretching out on the chair with a book and a sigh)

Friend 1: So peaceful…. (Phone rings; Friend 1 digs through a huge bag of stuff to answer it) Mm-hello?

Friend 2: (On the phone) You know it’s supposed to start pouring rain there in less than an hour, right?

Friend 1: (Dons a pair of sunglasses) I choose to spend the last day of summer wringing every ounce of joy out of the primary place I associate with the season, yes.

Friend 2: Fall started around 3 a.m. this morning – last day of summer was yesterday.

Friend 1: Oh.  I thought it was sunset today?

Friend 2: Nope.

Friend 1: Drat.  Well, I had to work yesterday so I wouldn’t’ve been able to come here anyway.  This will be the last observed day of summer, then.

Friend 2: Suit yourself – don’t go swimming since there’re no lifeguards, and even if you just dip your toes in, watch out for the riptides.

Friend 1: Know what?  You’re really harshing my mellow, good-bye.  (Moves to end the call)

Friend 2: And still put on sunscreen – (Call is disconnected)

Friend 1: (Dumps the phone into the bag and ratchets the chair back another notch) Now, where were we…?  (Begins to doze off)

(Surfers drift over through the waves in Friend 1’s view, hovering in that area and continuously getting wiped out)

Surfers: Again!

(A lone lifeguard patrols the beach, blowing the whistle at everyone knee-deep and higher in the water)

Lifeguard: (Several feet away from Friend 1, tweets long and loud and points at a swimmer who is several waves away from the shore) YOU!  OUT!

Swimmer: (Paddles over) But I thought the swimmer on the flags meant we could swim here!

Lifeguard: There’s a line right through it!  And it’s red!  And summer’s over!  And there are no lifeguard stations spaced at regular intervals anywhere!  Or lifeguards!  Is this your first day ever on a beach?!

Swimmer: (Finally out of the water) If there are no lifeguards, who are you, then?

Lifeguard: The remnant left to scoop up twits like you!  (Sees the surfers and blows the whistle at them) ALL OF YOU!  SKEDADDLE!  AND RIGHT BY THE ROCKS, NO LESS!  EVERYONE HERE WANTS TO BE LOST AT SEA, I JUST KNOW IT!

Surfers: Chill, fellow beach lover!

(The shouting match drifts inland as the surfers follow the lifeguard away from the water; in the now-empty space, four terns land by Friend 1)

Friend 1: No food – shoo.

Tern 1: (Cackles wildly) <We can smellllll itttttt….>

Tern 2: (Hops closer to Friend 1’s huge bag) <Let me at it – Let me at it – >

(A huge seagull then lands heavily right where Tern 1 is standing, bumping the latter off to the side)

Seagull: <Outta my way, pipsqueak; I want that spot.>

Tern 1: <Oh come on, you have literally the entire beach to stand on!>

Seagull: <Yeah, and I wanna stand here.  Whatcha gonna do about it, huh, wee one?>

Tern 1: <Well, as you may not have noticed, right now there is only one of you, and about 15 and counting of us.>

Seagull: (Side-eyes the growing number of terns landing in a surrounding circle) < …Spot just got boring.>  (Flies off as terns give a battle cry and fly in pursuit)

Friend 1: (Takes out a sandwich) Final–

(A human couple who had been strolling hand-in-hand along the water stop in front of Friend 1’s view; one turns to the other, drops to one knee, and holds up an open ring box while the other immediately bursts into tears)

Proposer: Love of my life, will you –

Friend 1: (In mid-chew) No!  None of that mush right in my sightline of the ocean!  Move along 50 feet to one side or the other, as long as it’s out of my radius!

Proposee: But we need a witness to our magical moment!

Friend 1: (Points to the water) There’s a dolphin over there who I’m sure is more than happy to oblige!

(The two briskly trot to another spot 50 feet away and resume their previous positions)

Proposer: Love of my life, will you –

Proposee: Yes-yes-just-give-me-the-ring-and-you!

Friend 1: (Resumes eating) If I’d wanted a rom-com, I’d’ve brought a TV with me.

(A beachgoer with a metal detector crosses in front of Friend 1, stops suddenly when the detector starts making a lot of noise, throws it aside, and begins shoveling wildly)

Beachgoer: This is it!  I just know it!

Friend 1: No it isn’t!  Decamp!

Beachgoer: (Still shoveling, now in a large hole) But the mother lode is right here!  The detector never lies!

Lifeguard: (Runs over, blowing the whistle shrilly) Hey!  There’s no digging on the beach unless you’re making an impermanent sand castle!

Beachgoer: (Now only head and shoulders above the sand, still shoveling) This isn’t digging, it’s excavating!

Lifeguard: That’s even worse!

Beach Patrol Officer: (Appeared on the scene in the meantime; to Beachgoer) Stop what you’re doing and get out of there now.

Beachgoer: (Strikes something hard at the bottom of the hole) Ooh, I’ve reached buried treasure at last!  (Raises a metal box aloft just in time for Beach Patrol Officer to slap on a pair of handcuffs, then hoist Beachgoer out of the hole with Lifeguard’s assistance)

Lifeguard: (Releases Beachgoer, then stares down at the massive hole) I hope this is an easy fix – I’d hate to see the beach preservation society members start crying again.

Beachgoer: (Still holding onto the box and trying not to be moved along by Beach Patrol Officer) Wait, I have to know what’s inside!

Beach Patrol Officer: Stolen property, that’s what.

(The two begin a tug-of-war over the box until the terns return very noisily to dive-bomb it)

Terns: <Food!  Food!  Food!  Food!>

Seagull: (Swoops in to knock away a few terns) <Gimme!>

Beachgoer: (Still holding onto the box as Beach Patrol Officer and Lifeguard try to shoo away the birds) Thieves!  Finders keepers, that’s the rule!

Friend 1: (Stares through everyone to the ocean beyond as the battle rages on with sand being kicked all around and wings and legs and arms flying all over the place while the human yelling and the bird screaming increase in pitch ever higher as the pouring rain begins) So…peaceful….

Story 506: The Fall From Summer

 (At an outdoor public pool, Friend 1 and Friend 2 lie stretched out on lounge chairs, reading waterproof books and watching families splash around in glee)

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) So, are you going to spend more than five minutes in the pool we paid $15 to spend all day in?

Friend 1: Are you?

Friend 2: …Maybe.

Friend 1: Same.  Besides, it’s more of the social experience than the actual getting-wet part.

Friend 2: You haven’t said one word to anyone here besides me; we could have done the same thing at a park for free.

Friend 1: But this way feels as if we’re at least making an effort.

Swimmer: (Climbs out of the pool and nods at Friend 1 and Friend 2 while passing their chairs) Good morning!

Friend 2: Good –

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me.

Friend 2: MORNING, hope you’re having a great day!

Swimmer: (Continues on uncertainly) Uh, thanks, you too.

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) You know, at this rate I’m shocked no one’s smacked you for your rudeness yet.

Friend 1: So am I.  (They both return to reading.  After several moments, a gentle breeze wafts by; Friend 1 suddenly sits up, ripping off sunglasses and hissing through clenched teeth) Did you feel that?!

Friend 2: (Tiredly, without looking up from the book) What, did you get splashed by a stray drop of water from an inconsiderate child in the giant pool we’re sitting in front of?

Friend 1: No!  Well yes, but I’ve risen above it – no, I was referring to that, that… (Points up to the sky) ill-omened wind.

Friend 2: I… felt a slight breeze for less than a second, if that’s what you meant.

Friend 1: Oh, that was no breeze: that was The Herald.  The Harbinger.  The Portent of Things to Come.

Friend 2 I didn’t hear there’s supposed to be rain today.

Friend 1: I’m talking about fall!  It’s here already, can’t you feel it?!  (The breeze wafts once more) There it is again!

Friend 2: It’ll be over 90° Fahrenheit for the next week.

Friend 1: Doesn’t matter!  We’re in September: the planet tilting away from the Sun in this hemisphere has reached the tipping point, the coolness of dread has begun, there’s no going back, the magic is over!

Friend 2: Calm down.

Friend 1: How can I when summer has come to a crashing end and all joy has ceased to be?!  (Notices that everyone in the pool had stopped splashing and now are staring at both of them)  I’m rehearsing lines for a play.  (They shrug and return to splashing)

Friend 2: I would be embarrassed but you manage to draw all attention to yourself, so thanks for that at least.  (Returns to reading)

Friend 1: (Lies back on the lounge chair and shoves sunglasses back on) That’s right, continue on in your ignorant bliss; I’ll mourn the passing of fun times and the illusion of permanent youth in silence.

Friend 2: Please do.

(The next day, Friend 1 approaches the main counter in a café)

Barista: Hi!  How can I help you toady?

Friend 1: I would like a giant refresher, please.

Barista: (Winces slightly) Sorry, those aren’t on the menu anymore until next summer.

Friend 1: It still is summer for another three weeks; I have a cactus on my windowsill that melted just this morning.

Barista: Yeah, but you know how it is in the World of Retail: end of August means Back-to-School sales, Halloween decorations, and fake Christmas trees.  Would you like me to whip you up a pumpkin-spice something?

Friend 1: I will pass on that abomination and take a regular brownie instead.

Barista: I hear ya – between you and me, gingerbread is where it’s at.

Friend 1: Making it worse.

Barista: Gotcha.

(The next day, Friend 2 answers the phone while cooking in the kitchen) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Lying on the living room couch, wrapped up in blankets) I had to put on a sweater today.

Friend 2: What?  Oh, yeah, that cold front came in all of a sudden; I think it’s from that hurricane that hit south of us, those poor people –

Friend 1: It’s still summer!

Friend 2: Well, it was hot before when we technically were still in spring, so….

Friend 1: It’s hot all year long now, that’s not the point!  It’s not supposed to be cool breezes with falling leaves and homework yet; it’s supposed to still be super-hot all the time with 16 hours of daylight and beaches and boardwalks and roller coasters and ice creams and sleepovers and vacations and happiness forever and – and – and –

Friend 2: Are you crying?

Friend 1: Not yet.

Friend 2: (Resumes slicing an onion) Good.  Now, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once: in about two months there’ll be peppermint hot chocolate.

Friend 1: I suppose I’ll have to settle for that as a trade-off.