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The Sea and Some Heat

I was debating whether to share about my Monday after this Sunday post, that could've been seen as one of those pretentious sounding, "my life is more awesome than yours," posts that "makes my life look better through my blog," etc like all these Facebook feeds are sharing.

But yesterday was honestly too good to not share. I got off two hours early, which at first was a slight inconvenience as I need the hours. But disappointment didn't last longer than my walk out the door, when it turned into excitement to enjoy the beautiful day. 

On my way home, I got a call from one of my favorites, Mr. James... mysterious funny dude I mentioned here and here. Oh and here. (Just guess which ones are about him). He was off work and interested in beach time, so he came on over. 

We had a delicious Brinner feast on the porch, shared poems and ideas, and laughed a whole lot with his reciting of my poems. It sounds a bit different, to say the least, coming from someone else. 

We enjoyed the sun for a while on the beach before I finally convinced him to get in the water. First just his feet, then halfway, then finally all in. It turned into quite the spectacle, watching him try to get out passed the break to join me for some relaxing floating. 
"How are you floating?! You have you relaxed for that!" 
"Yeah? You can't relax?"
I'd get excited when he'd almost make it out to me, then turn around and he's way the heck back. It was such a struggle. A very entertaining, laughable struggle. I think he attempted floating once to be pummeled by a wave. Bad experience. 

It felt so nice continuing my "Swim Every Day Resolution." That day I swam longer than I have in years, and it was fantastic. Lots of floating. Lots of empowerment conquering the waves. Lots of humbling tumbles in the ones I didn't quite conquer.  

We got in some more sun time, and one more swim before deciding we needed food. Off to Al's Pizza we went for one of the funniest dinners I've ever had. I thought the buffalo chicken would be too spicy, so we went with the spicy Caribbean chicken pizza. 
"Ooh, It's not too spicy," waitress said. 
"Spicy" is In. It's. Name... That should've been a sign. 

Two slices later and I'm across the table with a runny nose, lips burning, and snorting coke (the legal kind) from laughing so hard at Mr. James' similar struggle. That was the spiciest food I have ever eaten. Spicier than some buffalo chicken pizza I had from Mellow that turned my poor lips into lobsters. Spicier than that "mild" Indian food I ate in Scotland... It was rough. 

I proceeded to laugh for about 15 straight minutes, while he powered through to "be a man" and kill those last two pieces. The waitress came back at one point, with me dying of laughter and James sweating and rocking. We alerted her to never refer to that pizza as "not too spicy," and sarcastically requested some milk. 

Second time around, she comes back with our waters, asking if we needed anything else while I'm videotaping the ridiculousness, and he's soaking his lips in his water... Comes up from his cup with lips dripping wet. I was pretty much hysterically laughing at this point. 

I wouldn't have changed our pizza choice for the world.




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