since 1998

personal website: joe crawford. code. occasional comics. toy robots. bodysurfing. san diego. california. say hi.

Left the screaming busy early afternoon shore break. Walking the six blocks to my car. I’m on the left side of the road; I notice a red Mini on the right side, tracking me. “I’m stalking you” exclaims the driver, a woman. “Okay” I reply, pointing an arc representing much further up the street. Another block. Then another. “Next block, left side of the street” I motion. “Maybe I’ll go up there” she says. “White Pilot” I reply. The Mini drives to my car and makes a u-turn. I unlock the car by remote. “No rush” says the red Mini, two older ladies I see now. Summer hats on. Older than me and I’m not young anymore. I stow my gear in the back. “No hurry” says Mini. “Change your clothes if you want”—then—“don’t get naked” the ladies cackle/giggle. I double take back the car, my hoodie on now. “I might be getting ogled” I say—then more giggling from the Mini. I close the Pilot’s hatch. I get in my car and drive off, a little wave out my window. I can feel the summer ending. A last blast of enthusiastic summer energy out at the beaches. The giddy death throes of Summer vacation for everyone.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.