South Beach Boardwalk Robert Sheridan bobsheridan firstname.lastname@example.org
Back in the Good Old Days as a Wagnah student, before I supposedly made anything out of myself, I was gainfully employed wearing a woolen orange tank top and orange nylon bathing trunks at Sout' Beach.
Sometimes I'd run the first aid shack, meaning I'd sit there waiting for customers. We had a porcelain metal foot bowl, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, tweezers and band-aids. When the inevitable customer came with splinters in his feet from running on the boardwalk (it wasn't the running that did them in, it was the stopping), we'd have momma hold the kid while we went diving for splinters with the tweezers, then the peroxide, until the kid was out of tears and then we'd send 'em on their way.
If you took that chipped white foot bowl, washed it out with peroxide, loaded it with crushed ice, dumped in a can of frozen lime-ade, a couple of cut up limes, and a bottle of Ron Rico, you had yourself a bucket of frozen daquiris. All you needed was a little salt and someone in one-a-dose bikinis and you had yourself an instant party in the lifeguard shack.
Sometimes it's a mistake to try and make something of yourself. It's a lot easier taking little splinters out of little feet than taking Big Splinters out of the World's Big Butt.
We were better off shacking up!
Did we realize it?
We were young.
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