As we have discussed, vacations with my family can hardly be called dull. My entire life we have vacationed on Atlantic Beach in the Outer Banks. Go if you can. I cannot give the beach the description it deserves here, and the shops and restaurants are unique to the Outer Banks. Blackbeard - the pirate - lived here, and his lure infuses the island like salt on the air.
Oh sure, there was a year or two, after Hurricane Irene, when I felt betrayed by my glorious OBX. Like Irene was some other girl the OBX had on my beach. I was angry, even a bit disappointed. I'm over it now. Atlantic Beach is still the best.
One summer, in my pre-Husband days, I sojourned with my parents and sister to our delightful rental in Atlantic Beach. Aside from having to explain open-container laws to my mom when the cop pulled us over, the trip down was surprisingly uneventful.
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| Atlantic Beach, circa 1980. Apparently, I always ahd issues vacationing with my family. |
Although we arrived in the late afternoon, Aunt, Uncle, and Sister Beta did not arrive, for reasons I can't remember, until after ten that night. As they were unpacking, Aunt heard a knock at the door. Uncle didn't hear it, and Aunt thought it was us girls playing a joke.
Confession: I have been, from time to time, known to prank people.
Aunt tried to look out the front door, but it was one of those frosted-glass jobs. She even tried to wipe away the condensation, to no avail. She could not see who was outside, but she was sure it was me. Or one of the younger girls at my instigation. So she threw open the door.
I was not on the other side. It was a young man. His pants and undies were around his ankles. He held his member in his hand and, very politely, asked my aunt how she was doing.
Of course, Aunt slammed the door (I hope that dude was standing far back), screamed, and ran to my uncle. By the time she reached him, exhaustion combined with nerves had her in hysterical laughter.
Uncle did not believe her. He thought maybe I had put her up to the joke. He said if she was serious, she could the police.
So. Aunt called the police and told my parents. And of course, they had to tell us girls. We were young twenties/early teens at the time; the police believed we were the intended recipient of The Flasher.
And the police, of course, needed a description from Aunt.
Aunt looked the police in the eye. She summoned her courage and recollection. And told the police she was sure The Flasher was a natural blond.
Over the next few days, our conversation would routinely turn to The Flasher. My parents, aunt, and uncle were all aghast. How could someone try to ruin our precious beach for us? What was wrong with him? I was a bit disappointed in Parents, Aunt, and Uncle, and I told them so. On the contrary, the OBX, in my mind, had one hell of a welcome wagon.
Several days after we met The Flasher, I stayed home alone while my family went to eat. When the inevitable knock on the door came, I laughed. I wasn't going to fall for that! But the knock was very persistent. Disturbingly so. I called the police and grabbed a knife.
The operator kindly explained that police had been in patrol around our home since The Flasher's visit (welcome wagon and police protection!), and a police car was actually in the parking lot of our condominium. She asked me to hold while she notified the car in our lot. As I sat on hold, the knock on the front door changed to pebbles being thrown against the glass door at the rear of the house. Terrified, I clung to the phone, waiting for the operator to come back. "They have him!" she told me. "He was out back! Open the door! The police have him!"
So I opened the door.
I did not see a blond flasher. What I saw was Uncle. Jacked up between the two police officers. This man, they said with scorn, claimed to be my uncle. All I had to do was confirm that he was not and they would take him away.
An excellent prank is hard to pass up, but I did. There should be some kind of reward for letting go of an opportunity like that.
So why are we discussing this now?
Because my mom would like to do a family trip to Atlantic Beach this year.
I'll be honest. I'd take The Flasher over Irene any day.
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