v.a. beach, remembered...

this post was actually drafted immediately after we got back from the wedding in v.a. beach (august 13, 2006; 3weeks ago). it's been sitting, unused, since. there was supposed to be more, but i've long forgotten what that was meant to be.
grims just turned to me and said,
"you don't blog anymore."
and he's right. i know why, and i guess i'm being self-indulgent about it now. so i'ma try to make something of this post because i hate to not finish something, and then i pledge to get back to blogging other than for flash fiction friday. i know i've said it in the past, so feel free to wait for me to prove it- of course, that's assuming anybody even here reading this, since i haven't been a real blogger in too long. i apparently blog a lot less when i have shit on my mind- which i think is not an encouraging thing to say, as regards the generation of content on this blog...
anyway.
flashback to 3weeks ago- still summer proper, none of this cold wind and rain and temperature below 70degrees bullshit.
there was a dairy queen across the street from the viking motel, where we stayed (alas, not viking-y; big letdown). the dq was populated by underaged bulgarian boys, cute mainly by virtue of being underaged, working summer jobs. needless to say, it was the 1st place i went on our 1st day out, en route to the beach, and i flirted. mercilessly.
i lean on the counter, small cobalt triangles perfectly accenting my bosom, drawing the eye exactly where it wants to linger, and purr,
"what's the difference between the chocolate extreme, mud pie and georgia mud fudge?"
he blushes, asks in halting english for me to hold on. i look down into my cleavage then back up @ him encouragingly. i love making young boys flustered.
while he's gone, the couple behind me becomes self-congratulatory in that somewhat amusing way that couples get when they've organised special time together and everything's going swimmingly:
"that parking space was so money."
"i love that we found that. and we're @ the beach, and lunch was amazing, and now ice-cream..."
"i know. this is like the best day ever."
you see what i mean.
just as i'm wishing for an excuse to turn around so i could see who i giggling at, the female voice says,
"you just asked for something sneaky, didn't you?"
better than their parking spot and lunch combined- i turn, grinning, and see a perfectly ordinary, relatively cute couple, the chick even somewhat gape-worthy. this cracks me up all the way through my brief conversation with her about the fact that i may have asked too much of a person for whom english isn't a 1st language. my dq-joy is complete.
my underaged bulgarian comes back with enough explanation for me to rule out something with nuts. i ask which of the remaining 2 he prefers. he blushes even more furiously and tells me to get the chocolate extreme. i do. he's right. i have another that evening, on the way back from the beach, and another the next day. he remembers me the next day and tells his boys behind the counter he's responsible for my tastebuds' orgasm, hangs out up by the window smiling @ me while his boy makes my 3rd chocolate extreme in 36hours.

there was a point to my telling this story once, but now it's just another random memory i don't know why i'm keeping.
i figured i could use the practice, though- real posts coming soon to a sweet trini near you...
walk good.