The usually mundane train ride home from work was anything but last night. Boop called me up from her business trip in Miami to inform me that she was....gulp....about to conquer her fear of the ocean. You see, she and I share the same hatred of all things swimming that aren't dolphins or manatees. So when I heard this, my jaw hit the floor. I have my irrational fears and I intend to keep them. She, apparantly, was feeling braver than I at that moment. The three glasses of liquid courage didn't hurt either.
Boop kicked her flip flops off in the sand and began to walk in. I could hear the tide rushing in the background and I must admit I was feeling nervous for her. It was dark, and you never know what is lurking just beneath the surface. She waded in up to her knees and screamed at the top of her lungs "I own the ocean, bitches!!!" Would you expect her to boast of her achievement in any other way?? I told her, what the hell, go up to your waist! SHE DID!!!! All the while screaming about doing it and owning it. Bitches. That was a bit much for her, though, and she dared not go any further.
When she got to shore (still screaming) she couldn't find her flip flops. It seemed the tide took them under. But being the ocean pro she now is, she went looking for them and, of course, found them. I would have let them become shark bait, but she was afraid no longer. Okay, perhaps that's a bit of an embellishment. Shortly thereafter, she said she may never go in the ocean again but at least she can say she did it once. Way to go Boop!