"Bullsh*t at the Beach"
Bullsh*t at the Beach
I was a young girl staying at a friend's beach house in Manzanita. It was about 9:00 am, and my mother had just taken me to the grocery store. We had our dog with us, and since animals weren't allowed inside the store, my mother had given me the choice to stay outside the store with the dog or to go inside and get the food myself. Being fairly shy, I had chosen to stay outside.
So let me set the scene: I was sitting outside the grocery store, wearing a pair of Snoopy pajamas, clutching a small Jack Russel Terrier in my arms, mildly shivering in the cold of the Oregon Coast. There were these guys, probably 30, 40, years old, unloading the back of their beat-up Prius. They had been there for maybe 5 minutes, since we got there, and thus far, they hadn't noticed me. Finally, one of them got into the car and the other headed for the store. It was funny, I thought later, how in my mind I was wondering if he was going to be a creep.
So here I am, and this freakin' a-hole walks up to me, pauses, looks me up and down slowly, and mutters under his breath, "Ooh, sexy."
Then he walks into the store, leaving me hopelessly confused about how this could happen to an 11-year-old sitting on a bench in Manzanita, Oregon, with her tiny dog.
A few minutes later, my mom comes out, we go and get pastries, and I pretend like it never happened.
To this day, my mother has no clue that I experienced this.