*This was written in July 2016 just before moving back to Texas from living for a year on the beach in Florida.
I stalked someone today. My daughter would call me a "creeper". But I couldn't help myself.
I was returning from my morning walk on the beach, heading home to shower and to get ready for work.
And that's when I saw him.
My heart started racing and a smile came across my face as he walked, unknowingly, about twenty feet in front of me.
Now, I know what you might be thinking..."you're married" or "he looks too young for you" or "that's creepy, you cradle-robbing-adulterer-wanna-be". You would be correct on the first two accounts...I'm happily married and this guy would be too young for me.
But you see, I was attracted to what his essence represented, not what he looked like.
The Weekend. He represented The Weekend.
This was something I hadn't experienced since moving to Florida. He represented leisure time, spent doing what he wanted to do. He represented rest, relaxation, fun. I was compelled to follow him.
Donned in swimming trunks, water shoes, and sunglasses, my new infatuation headed out of his driveway with a cup of joe in one hand and pulling his kayak in the other.
I've been fortunate enough for the last year to live about six houses from the ocean to the left and six houses to the inter-coastal waterway on the right. Though aside from my morning walks, I haven't had any time to experience much of it. And this guy, with his fancy kayak in tow, was heading to the calm waters of the inter-coastal waterway, to enjoy a Saturday morning float.
I pulled out my outdated iPhone, and like any good stalker would do, I engaged the silent button. I mean, how embarrassing would it be for me AND him if he heard the click of my camera taking pics of his backside?
I snapped a photo. That should be enough to put in my blog, right? But nooooooooo. He turned the corner and I had a better angle.
Click. I take another.
And here's where is got more creepy. He turned left to go towards the water, I should have turned right to go home, but I was compelled to follow him, so I turned left as well.
Click! I take another.
I'm sure he was aware of me but had no idea that I was journaling his path. I mean, I look innocent enough. Just a chubby, middle-aged woman with boob sweat and rubbing fat thighs enjoying her morning walk.
I knew I had enough photos, but I couldn't help myself. I followed him all the way to the water.
We exchanged the usual morning greetings. We talked briefly about crabs. I mean, that's normal, right? Maybe not, but there were literally thousands of crabs where he launched his kayak. He mentioned it. I responded with "yeah, we have them in our garage at home."
He got in the water. Click. Click. Because one shot wasn't enough.
I headed home.
Stalking time had run its course.
But for a brief moment in time, I witnessed something beautiful, something that I haven't seen for myself in a while now. Something that I look forward to having again when we move back to Texas this week.
It's called a weekend. And I'm ready to experience this again!
HUMOR-IST (is that a word?) I can find and expel (the word expel makes me think of passing gas) humor in most moments of life