(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!!!!!!!