Story 647: End of Regular Summer, Start of Local Summer

             (On the phone)

Friend 1: Hi there!

Friend 2: Hey – just checking if you want to meet up sometime during Labor Day weekend?  You’re off at least one of those days, right?

Friend 1: Just Sunday this year – the irony of working on a holiday specifically called “Labor Day” has slapped me in the face yet again, but I suppose I brought this on myself by remaining in the wonderful world of retail.

Friend 2: Is it more supportive if I boycott where you work that day, or if I spend money there to keep you all employed?

Friend 1: Eh – can’t speak for my coworkers, but I get time-and-a-half either way so makes no difference to me if I’m bored or frazzled while I’m at it.

Friend 2: I’ll just come and visit you, then.

Friend 1: Appreciate it.  I still can’t believe it’s Labor Day already.

Friend 2: Yeah, I know what you mean: there goes another summer for the books.

Friend 1: Uh-huh.  Another summer, out the window.

Friend 2: Hm.

Friend 1: Down the drain.

Friend 2: Hmmm….

Friend 1: Closer to death.

Friend 2: OK, that’s enough: you wanna meet up on Sunday for brunch or one last go at the amusement park or what?

Friend 1: Yeah, I’ll say “Nah” for going anywhere this weekend – everyone else’ll still be there, and I can’t stand everyone else.

Friend 2: Fine: maybe we’ll do something later in the month when it’s Local Summer, all right?

Friend 1: What’s that?

Friend 2: What’s what?

Friend 1: “Local Summer”.  I thought it was summer for everyone this side of the Equator, not just locally.

Friend 2: What?  Wait, you never heard of Local Summer before?

Friend 1: Should I have?

Friend 2: I dunno, I thought it was one of those things everyone knows about.

Friend 1: Then I guess my ignorance is showing, just in time for Back to School.  So, what is it?

Friend 2: Well, you know how everywhere you go, The Shore is jam-packed with tourists every day from Memorial Day to Labor Day?

Friend 1: Yes.  That’s why I never go to The Shore unless I’m staying overnight and can walk everywhere.  And only once a year, because that’s all I can take of that chaos.

Friend 2: So, Local Summer is when the tourists all have gone back to wherever they came from, but the weather’s still decent and a lot of summer stuff’s still open, so the locals now actually get to enjoy their own towns.

Friend 1: Huh.  Makes sense, I guess.  But we’re not technically locals, you know.

Friend 2: We’re close enough: our license plates are from the same state and we know how to behave – we’ll be welcomed with open arms.

Friend 1: Cool.  But the beaches’ll all be closed, right?

Friend 2: Well, there’ll be no lifeguards so you can’t go swimming, but you can still walk around and hang out on them which is what you’d do anyway.

Friend 1: True.

Friend 2: And at that point, they’ll be free!

Friend 1: You just said the magic word.

Friend 2: Parking won’t be free until mid-October –

Friend 1: Darn.

Friend 2: – but we’ll actually be able to find a spot that’s not five miles away from where we want to go, so there’s that.

Friend 1: Sweet.  OK, I’m in – have any place in mind?

Friend 2: I was thinking ------- -------.

Friend 1: I’ve never been anywhere near that place before January or after March – the crowds surrounding it otherwise prevent me from getting too close.

Friend 2: Well, by mid-September, that should no longer be an issue. 

MID-SEPTEMBER 

(Friend 1 is driving with Friend 2 in the passenger seat as they arrive at ------- ------- in record time with no real traffic; Friend 1 glides the car right into a parking spot on the street near the boardwalk, in the middle of everything they want to visit)

Friend 1: (As they both exit the car, starts spinning around in circles in wonder while heading to the sidewalk) I don’t understand – where is everybody –

(On the nearly-empty beach)

Friend 1: Where is everybody?!

(On the nearly-empty boardwalk)

Friend 1: WHERE IS EVERYBODY???!!!

Friend 2: Back at home, at school, at work – all that matters is: not here.  (Points to the nearly-empty amusement park section on the boardwalk) Wanna go on the spinning teacups first or the roller coaster first?

Friend 1: YES!

(Friend 1 and Friend 2 ride all the rides with no lines, then eat all the boardwalk food they want with no wait, then play multiple rounds of miniature golf with no parties of 10 before or after them, then run up and down the beach with no sunbathers blocking their way, and then walk to all the local shops in town with hardly any shoppers to maneuver around)

Friend 1: (As they both stroll along the quiet main avenue, eating ice cream that was served a minute after they walked into the shop) You know, I think I’m starting to prefer Local Summer to Regular Ol’ Summer.

Friend 2: I figured you would.

Friend 1: It’s just so… (Looks around the mellow shore town) peaceful.  A few weeks ago, it was probably so stuffed with mayhem that I would’ve had a silent meltdown, but now, this is what it always should be like: tranquil, mild, calm, soothing, all those relaxing adjectives that summer’s supposed to represent.

Friend 2: I bet.  (Crunches on the rest of an ice cream cone)

Friend 1: (Throws away a used napkin into a nearby trash can) You know, I think we should spend our summers here, after everybody else’s summer, from now on; not a care in the world; let that summer feeling last past August 31 even though it’s technically summer for another three weeks; whaddya say?

Friend 2: That’s fine, but I should let you know that the downside to Local Summer starting in September is that the Sun pretty much goes away around 7:00 –

Friend 1: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Story 636: Summer Has Started Three Weeks Early

(On a small beach, Friend 1 and Friend 2 sit on beach chairs under an umbrella, facing a bay that eventually goes into an ocean)

Friend 1: (Gestures at the nearly empty beach around them) See?  All the benefits of “The Beach”, with none of the hassle.  None of the crowds, none of the traffic, none of the fees.

Friend 2: (After a few moments staring at the gently lapping waves) None of the lifeguards.

Friend 1: Which is why we’re not swimming.

Friend 2: None of the bathrooms.

Friend 1: Which is why you’re always supposed to go before you leave home.

Friend 2: None of the –

Friend 1: Listen, do you want the experience of “The Beach” without dealing with all that stuff in actually going to “The Beach”, or not?!

Friend 2: It’s just… kind of boring.

Friend 1: How so?  Neither of us really swim at this point in our lives anyway, and we never surfed or paddle boarded or any of those major-athlete shenanigans, so how is this – (Gestures at the beach and water this time) any different?

Friend 2: I guess, but I’d still like the option to go swimming in the actual ocean, you know?

Friend 1: You stand in the shallows for five minutes and go back to reading under the umbrella for the rest of the time we’re there.

Friend 2: Still.  The water’s just different, you know?

Friend 1: Salt water, fresh water, brackish water – cold is cold.

Friend 2: And I do kind of miss some of the crowds.

Friend 1: (Lowers sunglasses to stare at Friend 2 in disbelief) What?!

Friend 2: Well, mainly the kids playing in the sand, making their little castles that won’t last the day, or throwing small balls that always wind up lost at sea, or floating around with their boogie boards, that sort of thing.

Friend 1: You’re always complaining how loud they are and that they’re running around all over the place and ruining your vibe!

Friend 2: I do not.

Friend 1: Ha!

Friend 2: I do not!  I think you’re confusing me with you.

Friend 1: Sure, I complain about them too, but at least I own it!

Friend 2: (Stares out at the water, brow furrowed in thought) Huh.  Maybe I do complain about them more than I thought.

Friend 1: I’ll say no more.  (Sips from a water bottle)

Friend 2: But still, it’s only early June now –

Friend 1: Summer has started for me, yes.

Friend 2: – so all those kids are still in school for another three weeks; couldn’t we have gone to an actual beach and still had peace and quiet?  I mean, I thought that was the whole point of us taking time off and going on a weekday now instead of in summer proper, when everyone will be there, every day, all day long?

Friend 1: (Stares at Friend 2 again) I am not paying $20 for the almost-exact same experience that I can get for free.

Friend 2: It’s $20 at that beach now?

Friend 1: Disgustingly, yes.

Friend 2: Per person?

Friend 1: Per car.

Friend 2: Oh, that makes more sense.  What about other beaches?

Friend 1: Slightly less per person, but I wouldn’t put it past them to raise fees once again, in solidarity with everything else inflating.

Friend 2: Hm.  Guess this really is the better option this time of year.

Friend 1: Darn tootin’.  And another thing: the lifeguard beaches don’t even reduce fees for this lull month when most of the crowds aren’t there yet, so if they consider it to be summer now, then so do I.

Friend 2: Summer doesn’t start until June 21.

Friend 1: I said what I said.

(They stare out at the water some more)

Friend 2: I suppose I could stand in the water for five minutes here just as well as anywhere else.

Friend 1: Go for it.

Friend 2: (Points to a section farther down the beach) Ooh, and look!  Seagulls, just like at a real beach!

Friend 1: This is a real beach!

Friend 2: You know what I mean.

Friend 1: (Picks up a trowel that was used to plant the umbrella) All right, would it make you feel better if you dig a massive hole in the sand and then immediately fill it in so you can have five seconds of childhood nostalgia?

Friend 2: Yes please.  (Snatches the trowel out of Friend 1’s hand and starts digging a massive hole in glee).

Friend 1: (Opens a book to read) You know, you can thank me for the other experience that you’re also getting free of charge, and no true summer at “The Beach” is complete without.

Friend 2: (Stops digging to look back at Friend 1) Oh?  And what magical summer experience is that?

Friend 1: Sand everywhere.