Labor Day Weekend - Drunk and Bittersweet

It was a weekend spent rallying one last time before the cold weather sets in and the bathing suits get packed away with the winter clothes.

"Hey, I'm star-6-9-ing my buzz.  You know, the one I've had since June."

"Yeah, I really need to star-6-9 my tan before summer is officially over."

"If you see him tonight are you going to suggest star-6-9-ing what you guys did last night?"

My brother called me while I was still working Friday afternoon to announce that he was going to Dewey for the night after the fucked up week he had at work and I was thrilled.  We hadn't been in Dewey together since my nephew was born, maybe even before that.
We partied hard Friday night with our uncle and various other friends and relatives we ran into along our travels up and down Route 1 - Starboard, Lighthouse, Northbeach...eventually ending up at McShea's for last call and of course getting a pizza from Grotto's on our way back to the house.

"Dane, you sleep like you're dead.  I almost put my finger under your nose to make sure you were still breathing."

The weather, along with my hangover, Saturday wasn't exactly cooperative; the sun didn't come out until around 3 pm and by then my headache was finally starting to fade.  I spent some time on the beach in solitude, reading and reveling in the feeling of sand between my toes.
Saturday night was spent with a bunch of the Weekenders, and I ended up going home with someone completely unexpected.  Nothing like doing your first legitimate walk of shame on the last Sunday morning of the summer.  I tried to be slick and take the back way home, through the alley behind the Bottle & Cork, down back streets through the clusters of beach condos and driveways,  avoiding Route 1 and figuring no one I knew would see me.  I was quite mistaken.
"Helloooo...hey!  Girl in the green!"
I looked up to see one of my aunt and uncle's good friends, a guy who has also known me for over 10 years, and known the guy I went home with for probably over 30, standing on the balcony of one of the beach condos.  Busted.  He's grinning and asking me where I'm coming from.  I mentally ran through the list of people who could have seen me leave with said cause of my little shame-walk and decided he wasn't among them, so I lied through my teeth.  I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
My dearest friend came down that day, someone else I haven't been in Dewey with in a very long time, and we spent the day on the beach reminiscing about old times - baby sitting my younger cousins and my aunt and uncle teaching us most of what we know today.  We did two happy hours, one at Northbeach and then of course headed over to the Bottle & Cork for the last Jam Session of the year.  I believe we had dinner and then cleaned ourselves up to go back out and do it all over again that night.

This girl has been my lifeline.  Plus, she knows too much.

Dewey Beach is nonstop.  You can either hang tough or go home.  I love it, but there's a reason I only do weekends in the summer.  It's best to take it in small doses, otherwise I think my liver would just quit on me. So now summer is over, everyone has gone back home and all we can do is look forward to next year.

The blue moon, the Starboard shark, and myself.  Life couldn't get any better.