by Jerome Robinson
My wife and I got engaged yesterday at Half Moon Bay. We were walking along the Wavecrest Cliffs; staring at the various birds that were surfing in the cloudy blue sky. I thought to myself, “Where is all of the smoke and claws of my life at home? i cannot see it in the eyes of the hawks or seagulls—assassins & thieves for sure—but they rarely exude malice; their schemes are simple.”
After the pedestrians passed, I got down on one knee, and let the ring’s shimmer say the rest.
Then, we ate sandwiches, chips, and fruit on the beach.
Afterwards, we headed to our room at the Ritz Carlton, graciously paid for by my mother, which brought back all of the disturbing thoughts from D.F. Wallace’s, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again:
The staff was far too courteous, unctuous to the nth degree. We overheard a conversation from a table table nearby, consisting of a couple on their second or third date, in which the woman divulged that she had spilt water on her Xanax, and she told her suitor, “you’re going all out on me … but I’m experienced.” (What experience was she referring to?)
There was a table across from us, where a father and son ate half of their burgers, complained to the server about the substandard preparation; then, the server left and they followed suit.
A few minutes passed, before a pretentious guy—wearing a button-up, slacks, and velcro Adidas slip-ons—nonchalantly tossed a napkin on the kid’s partially consumed plate of food—but realized after a more careful inspection, that the meals might still be in process, so he hurriedly pounced upon the plate, seized the napkin, scanned the surroundings, and scurried back to his seat by the firepit.
We finish the rest of our “complimentary” champagne, and I smirk, because the father and son return to the table and exchange some stern words with the manager, who nods her head in a perfectly practiced manner, like a ship on the sea. Eventually, they reach a conclusion, and then we all leave our tables, and walk our separate ways, into the fog-filled night.
We return to the interior of the spooky, Scooby-fuckin’-Doo hotel, snack, watch TV, and I fall into a deep sleep, unlike anything that I’ve ever experienced before. The bathroom bed, and view were Amazing, but damn, I’m glad I didn’t have to pay for that shit.