The next morning, I was awoken way too early by a curious beeping sound. My head was still fuzzy from all the frozen margaritas, so I thought it was an alarm clock going off unattended. I made my way out of the closet, and started to search for the offending clock. To my surprise, it was coming from the beach. I opened the sliding glass door and stumbled outside. I was so shocked at the time, I do not remember having a specific reaction to what I saw. By specific reaction, I mean one other than….What…The…Fuck?!
There in front of me was an enormous, smoke-belching, metal tread-having, bright yellow bull dozer tearing up the beach and leaving huge tread prints all over the place! The noise was enormous! Clanking wheels, hydraulics, the big diesel engine. It was so close to the deck, I could spit on it. Or throw up, which at the time seemed more likely.
“What….The….Fuck… are you doing?!” I yelled over the din and gestured at the driver.
“Beach Reconstruction!” he yelled back.
“How long you gonna be doing that?”
“All week long!” he said with a smile as he put the bulldozer back in gear, lowered the blade and rumbled on.
A few minutes later, I heard the beeping sound again, as he backed up, turned around and came back towards our location. After a few cycles, it became apparent he would be working the half mile or so that was directly in front of our house. And he would be doing that…wait for it…. All….Week…Long.
Breakfast on the deck that morning was unforgettable. A huge spread of biscuits, eggs, gravy, and assorted meats. The clear blue water and cloudless blue sky contrasted nicely with the Caterpillar Yellow of the bulldozer. The smell of diesel smoke and the rumble of steel tread grinding through sugar white sands blended effortlessly with the sounds and smells of the Gulf.
“Can you pass the bacon?!”
“WHAT?!”
“I said, ‘Can you pass the bacon?!’”
“WHAT?!”
“How about this locations?!!”
“Oh!.....THERE IS NO MORE BACON!”
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