One evening, after a very fun happy hour and dinner, I left the establishment with my friend and was on my way back to the car to go home.
Carrying a container filled with some rather cold, soggy french fries that I was taking home to my dogs, I had an unexpected encounter with a stranger. As I walked, enjoying a pleasant state of inebriation, I noticed a woman approaching from the opposite direction. She seemed equally drunk, but her demeanor was out of place with the warm Cape Charles night.
The event happened quickly, but my friend told me she said, “I’m going to knock that food right out of your hand.”
Without too much warning, just as we neared each other, the woman did indeed knock the container out of my hand, leaving the contents of my doggy bag scattered across the sidewalk.
The woman, shocked that she had actually done the deed, quickly bent down and gathered the little remnants of my doggo’s cold fries and put them back in the container.
Anger could (and probably should) have won the day, but I was four martinis in, and it was such a unique and rare moment of pure Surrealism, my friend, who was the DD, and had better recollection says that I just laughed and called the woman a few nasty things, wrote the thing off as a bad job, and we went our way back to the car. My nice buzz was still intact, and I realized that a single act should not ruin all the pricey liquor I had imbibed (but it kind of did).
Back in the car, we laughed, “Can you believe that dumb bitch?”
But as I thought about it more, even as comical as it was, I wondered, who the fuck does that? How dangerous is it to walk up to a stranger and knock their food onto the ground? What if it were someone already on the edge, already angry and prone to violence, and the container was not cold fries but a fresh, hot meal they were taking home? Things could turn ugly, and street justice would more than likely ensue.
This was just a random act, I don’t think any real malice was involved–she was an entitled tourist, thinking it would be cool and fun, filled with a sense of anonymity-inspired impunity–you can just tell. The encounter was Commedia dell‘arte level stupid but it also acts to define the state of summers in Cape Charles, where the town and its neighborhoods are relinquished to the whims of Bert and Karen careening through the streets on their rented golf carts.
A fact we have to embrace is that the class of tourist that comes to Cape Charles is not exactly like those that vacation in Bali, Goa, or even Costa Rica.
The encounter did offer some reflection– I did not let it define my entire outlook on living on the Shore. It became a lesson in resilience, reminding me that, no matter how crappy Cape Charles gets in the summer, we must be the bigger person and continue to embrace the rare beauty of our home, even in the face of unexpected hostility from fat, ugly, stupid, and poorly dressed tourists.
We still have a very nice beach, despite it all…and it is a temporary condition.
Just as the cold will dispose of fleas, mosquitos, and ticks, so will it relieve the infected, rancid itch of the Cape Charles tourist season.
So it goes.
I hope no one driving that said car you all were in was not drinking or doing any other form of resectional or medicinal drug.
Editor’s Note: Without a dd, you usually don’t see me.
What about the fact that the woman described sounds mentally ill? So many are these days. Behavior like that probably wasn’t personal. How could it be if you didn’t even know who she was? I know it was unpleasant but she sounds like she needs professional help. Just saying.
Editor’s Note: Agreed. I’m not mad, it was random act, I just worry they may one day do it to the wrong person.
Yes you got lots and lots of trouble
I’m thinkin’ of the kids in the knickerbockers
Shirt-tail young ones, peekin’ in the pool hall window after school
You got trouble, folks
Right here in River City, trouble with a capital “T”
And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for pool.
Editor’s Note: Scott, why must you insist on quoting an awful number from the worst American Musical ever to stain the stage? The Music Man is niether 😉
As I have said in the past, Love it or leave it.
Editor’s note: But who asked you?
What was the martini recipe you were drinking (4 and on the floor- Dorothy Parker)? I I have spent my entire life looking for the perfect recipe!
Editor’s Note: Ha! Thomy, you know yours are still the best in Cape Charles…for yours truly it’s 4 and I can still get out the door, 5 I may take a dive, but as always its 6mb (6 Martini Blackout), and I can’t always vouch for what happened to me…)
This is why I avoid Cape Charles in the summer time. The fleas and ticks are unbearable.
So basically this person assaulted you by knocking something out of your hands you purchased, with your money from a restaurant you chose to go to.
I’m not a Psychologist. Nor do I have the time to analyze a person’s motive for attacking me.
That person would have received “Street Justice” regardlessly of gender or race.
This is still America, even if this government refuses to enforce the laws. I will not coward to hostile aggression nor should anyone.
Cape Charles used be a nice place to unwind. Now it’s just a place to tolerated the bad behavior from others.
Evil will seep in where justice is absent.
Be safe.
Agreed 100%
I work in one of the shops in town and I have never, ever seen that type of behavior in a tourist! Granted they do seem entitled when it comes to their golf carts, but I really find it hard to believe that someone would knock your container to the ground but then help you pick it up? And, how do you know it was a tourist?
Editor’s Note: Read the story closely. The reason it was even written was because it was so random, bizarre, and surreal. To clarify, the girl seemed to shock herself, which is why she picked it. Also, read closely, I did not help her, she picked it up herself. I have been living here well over 20 years, so I can tell a local from someone else, this crew was visiting. The story may be a little harsh on tourists, but if you grew up surfing the Oceanfront, the disdain is genetic. Probably need to work on that.