Blame the Fortune Cookie

Everything was going great at the beach until that one fateful night that we stumbled upon a vietnamese restaurant called 'Hu Dat' and received an almost seemingly mean spirited fortune cookie.

It read:

The greatest danger could be your stupidity.

This was Boo's misfortune and the demise of our surf side vacation.

For the day after he cracked that cookie and read its fortune, he missed the exit road off the beach and drove the car off course until the car was buried nose deep in a sandy abyss.

Before the warm fuzzy feeling of a helping hand, we took upon the task of digging out the car from its beach bed, all the while forgetting to maintain our SPF 85 that had previously saved us from severe burn during surfing. We torched our backs into a hot fuscia frenzy that would test the softness of thread count on our hotel beds. I must say they failed miserably on the count.

The sheets, while soft and cool during the beginning of the trip, had turned against us and turned prickly and rough on our sun raped skin.

Aloe vera after sun care gel became our bed buddy as we woke up several times a night to the sting of our broiled backs and arms.

Our burnt backs limited the comfort zone to a belly only snooze and a very careful application of clothing.

Bras, leather car seats, showers, backs of chairs, sunlight, and sand were avoided with the fiercest of conviction.

The beach was now our enemy.

The ferry rides that were once fun and inviting became an open coffin. Like vampires, we huddled near the middle dark of the vehicle, trying to keep from spontaneously bursting into flames while the engine was shut off during the 5 minute crossing.

Then slowly, the pain subsides, the blisters form, and the willpower to save skin from peel marks quickly succumbs to the morbid satisfaction that we got from the little squirt of fluid we felt under our fingernails as we scraped the tiny skin bubbles.

The endless re-application of lotions, oils, creams, and cocoa butter was and is futile.

The skin has no choice but to peel.

While waiting for our karma to turn, our skin to heal, and our auto to be repaired, we pondered the irony of booking a room, on our last days of holiday, in a hotel located above a vietnamese restaurant.

The Blonde is over asian food!

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