Beach Bum


It was the summer of 1995 and I was two months away from starting sixth-grade. The enthusiasm on my face was not because of school, though. I was excited because my family and I had just moved to Florida and I was beach bound. The only thing I cared about was waves and seashells. This was before everyone had Google on their smartphone so I had to rely on magazines in the gas station to get my surfing fix.

Finally the day had come, Saturday afternoon at the beach! I had all day to play in the sand and get my feet wet. My stepfather took me to a small surf shop to pick out some swim trunks. I gazed upon a pair that I just seen a surfer wearing in a magazine.  Those were the ones!

One problem: they didn’t have my size. Still, I insisted. I was cautioned by everyone in a tight radius that swim trunks too big would be uncomfortable. It didn’t matter, I wanted them.  And, much to my stepfather’s apprehension, I got them.  About an hour later I’m floating in the ocean. Suddenly, a huge wave approaches, knocks me down and pins me to the ocean floor.

When I stand up, I notice my swim trunks are gone! I am no longer a new beach bum. I am a naked twelve-year old in the water. As soon as I realize what has happened, I hear these words piercing my ear-drums,

“Ah how cute!”

Oh no! It’s a teenage girl and her cronies chuckling at the bizarre naked kid in the ocean. It took what felt like forever but I finally convinced one of them to find my parents and they brought me a towel to walk out of the water.  You could imagine how embarrassed I was!

(image courtesy of chrisroll/