Jeffrey got some cotton candy and Timmy had a slushie that he could put his own syrup on (banana) and I wanted something sweet as we walked around the tourist trappy place called "Broadway at the Beach." We found an ice cream shop and I went in to stand in line while the others sat outside and consumed their sugar.
There were three teenaged girls ahead of me in line, and as I stood there waiting I observed them, curious. They were all dressed very similar: crop jeans, strappy tops (which it was a bit too cold for) makeup carefully applied, hair intentionally just sloppy enough, ankle bracelets and flip-flops with french-manicures on their toenails. They must have been on spring break, maybe from college but they almost looked too young for that. They were each holding a wallet-type purse, the same but with different patterns on them. One girl looked in hers and told another: "I only have eighty dollars left!." None of them were especially attractive, but the best-looking one of the three went up to order first. She asked the pierced and bearded ice-cream guy if she could have a taste of one of the flavors. "No!" he said sarcastically and they giggled. Then he handed her the little spoon and she stood there tasting and thinking about it.
My feet were hurting and I wanted to get back to my family enjoying the sunshine outside, instead of in here where the combined noise of the refrigerators and the hard rock music were starting to get on my nerves. The other two girls each made their selections and paid for them out of those wallets, and then the tasting girl asked the guy what other flavors they had. He said they were on the sign over there. She started swiveling her head around looking for the sign, and he said: "Behind that lady" and pointed my way. I looked over my shoulder, saw the sign, and moved a step over. She kept thinking about this huge decision a bit more and then finally ordered a soft-serve twist and I got my turn.
The next day we did an activity that I enjoyed much more, it was a tour of an old plantation and gardens. They were beautiful. We took a ride around on a little tram. Along with all the other senior citizens.
There were three teenaged girls ahead of me in line, and as I stood there waiting I observed them, curious. They were all dressed very similar: crop jeans, strappy tops (which it was a bit too cold for) makeup carefully applied, hair intentionally just sloppy enough, ankle bracelets and flip-flops with french-manicures on their toenails. They must have been on spring break, maybe from college but they almost looked too young for that. They were each holding a wallet-type purse, the same but with different patterns on them. One girl looked in hers and told another: "I only have eighty dollars left!." None of them were especially attractive, but the best-looking one of the three went up to order first. She asked the pierced and bearded ice-cream guy if she could have a taste of one of the flavors. "No!" he said sarcastically and they giggled. Then he handed her the little spoon and she stood there tasting and thinking about it.
My feet were hurting and I wanted to get back to my family enjoying the sunshine outside, instead of in here where the combined noise of the refrigerators and the hard rock music were starting to get on my nerves. The other two girls each made their selections and paid for them out of those wallets, and then the tasting girl asked the guy what other flavors they had. He said they were on the sign over there. She started swiveling her head around looking for the sign, and he said: "Behind that lady" and pointed my way. I looked over my shoulder, saw the sign, and moved a step over. She kept thinking about this huge decision a bit more and then finally ordered a soft-serve twist and I got my turn.
The next day we did an activity that I enjoyed much more, it was a tour of an old plantation and gardens. They were beautiful. We took a ride around on a little tram. Along with all the other senior citizens.
1 comment:
I had lunch from the Wendy's in the Student Center between classes last week. The guy behind the counter called me Ma'am when he handed be my order. I must not have looked my best that day.
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