It was a few days ago when I realized that next week would be September. I made immediate plans to go to Fire Island for two days with Jacob. I called in sick Monday night and on Tuesday morning I was on a ferry heading toward Fire Island, sunshine on my skin, wind whipping around me, a bunch of gays seated near me, everyone excited about being at the beach. I had to get in a little more summer before it vanished, before it was again some far off distant thing that I could not wait for, that I fantasized about through blustery, cold days. Best decision ever to call in sick, especially so given this insane hurricane that is barreling toward our city.
We ate lunch, had some Bloody Marys, looked at the cute boys that walked past us, and then headed toward the beach. We spread out our towels in the nude section of the beach, sexy sights on all sides of us. My goal was to get rid of my tan lines, and since I was naked just about every moment while the sun was out during those two days, I did a fairly good job of that. We smoked some weed, drank some Coors Lights, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, looked at the boys walking past through sunglasses while pretending we were just looking at the horizon, laughed while recalling dialogue from Smiley Face. At some point, there was an earthquake. We were on another planet though, and heard the news hour later from people more connected to Earth. Reports back, breathless evening news coverage, texts, Facebook status updates, etc. I felt like I had missed something, this collective moment that New Yorkers experienced and that I did not. I had a bit of earthquake envy. Just a bit though because the weather could not have been more perfect and I was on this beautiful island and there were no cars and no phones to answer and an abundance of beauty, both the human variety and the non-human variety: butterflies galore, green and flowering plants, deer, green ocean, and blue sky.
We checked into the Belvedere, showered off the sand and salt, and then went up to the roof deck to catch even more sun. We had the roof deck to ourselves and so jerked off up there while drinking cocktails. A bit later some other people came up to the roof as well and we watched the sun set over the bay, more insane beauty. Drunk and goofy, we hiked across the island to the Pines to go to tea dance. It was winding down, almost over, and a group of Pines boys wanted us to take a water taxi back with them to Cherry Grove so we could go out to more bars. We were getting wrapped up in something we didn't want to, getting stuck hanging out with prissy gays who didn't want to talk through the Meat Rack, and so we (very ridiculously) walked away pretending to look at something and then literally booked it down the path to the ocean to escape these boys. We walked back to Cherry Grove along the dark beach under a gorgeous night sky, so many stars, and the two of us talking about very earthly things. And why anyone would pass this up to take a water taxi I do not know; the most beautiful moments I have ever had at Fire Island have always been these slightly scary walks through the Meat Rack, trying to find your way in the darkness through the woods as you walk back and forth across the island. Back at the hotel, we hung out at the hot tub with some annoying older guys and then went up to the roof deck again where, alone again and left to our own dirty devices, we fucked, overlooking the bay. As we were finishing, this guy ended up coming to the roof. We kept on fucking, not caring because we were almost there. He watched and we kept at it until Jacob came. We then went downstairs, wiped ourselves clean in our room, and went to bed.
The next day more of the same, more poolside time in the sun, more time by the beach, more looking at sexy men and beautiful nature. We stayed until our skin felt burned, seared, and then we left, boarded that ferry headed in the opposite direction this time, back toward New York City and all its own pleasures and all its own negatives, things about it, or my life there currently, that stress me out, and that for a good two days or so I had managed to put out of mind, managed to forget about for a little while. And today, back in those things, I approached them more joyously, having gotten my sexual fill for the first time in a while and also having gotten to swim in waves and lie on sand and to hold these memories fresh in my mind. Perhaps it's easy to make it through these days, through work and drudgery, if during those times we can still hold on to memories of good times recently had. Either I need to take some Gingko, work on building up my memory's skills, or need to continually replenish my short-term memory with fun moments, things that make me happy to be alive and here on this planet.