It hurts to be back

I want to go back and just fade away in my chair under the umbrella.

'twas the night before it all ends

...and I am satiated. What a great, great time I have had. And in the end I met one final girl named Fredi from the country of Moldova. I <3 Moldova.

This hotel is remote and private. It is 20 miles north of the more popular beaches at Nags Head/Kitty Hawk, BUT it is through several 35 and 25 miles per hour corridors which equals a 30+ minute, stop/go, drive with no other way in or out. This limits the population so it is very easy to recognize and form friendships with guests, workers and random beach-goers. This is my spot.

To maximize my time on the beach, I have been having all my lunches/dinners at a diner next to the hotel and having great fun with the servers. I didn't realize that one had been flirting all week until after I had my last dinner tonight and she rushed to hug me with eyes full of tears. All past cues and clues came rushing in at that moment. She had just finished telling me that there are more women than men living in the area (which explains SOO much awesomeness) and that she needs to move to a place with a more favorable ratio.

Oh, one last thing, LAW OF THE BEACH: If there are MILES of open sand to the left of me and there are MILES of open sand to the right of me and your wife STILL decides to park her fat ass and family RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY VIEW OF THE OCEAN, it gives me every right to stare at her boobies.

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Sooo many girls, so little (but ever-expanding) time. The brick-house Maria Sharapova grilled me about why I didn't have a wife and whether I have lots of girlfriends in lots of places. Yeah, I'm going to get her on a motorcycle ride before I leave. THEN later, I was prepping/inspecting the bike for a ride while chatting up another, who I can most accurately describe as a twenty-something cheerleader. When I told her that god must have used her gorgeous eyes as inspiration for the sunset we were watching, she melted like so many chocolates.

I'm. not. leaving. ever.

Bad Mojo

It turns out that if you start a book on the beach and don't finish it on the beach, the hero dies in the end.

Who am I to tempt fate and ruin a fictional hero's life? Maybe I'll leave Saturday morning Sunday morning...

The End...?

Well, here it is, the night before leaving...and it took me until 3 pm to discover the ocean which has been right outside my window this whole week! I have been having such a great time exploring the outer banks (aka : "OBX", you've seen the stickers) on the 'scooter; which turns heads, elicits conversation and makes more friends than I do, that I (conveniently) "forgot" to relax on the beach. Today I finally rented a chair and umbrella and sat and slept and dipped and read...for 2 hours before cabana closed. Screw that noise. I'm staying another day.

Has anyone seen a blackberry? Anyone? Anywhere? If anyone sees a blackberry, be sure to bury it a bit deeper!