Yes, I'm Coming Back

Ocean temperature: 79 degrees
Beach read: An Invisible Spectator: A Biography of Paul Bowles
Best song heard randomly on the radio: What's the Matter Here?, 10,000 Maniacs

I've heard from no less than three different friends in the past couple of days, all checking to see when I'll be back to my real life. What if I decided not to come back, to just use vacation as a jumping off point to start anew somewhere else? I met a guy tonight who did just that and highly recommended it nearly twenty years after the fact. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

With no one to entertain tonight, I walked down the beach to Ocean Boulevard for dinner, figuring I'd find someone to talk to; I was so sure of myself that I didn't even bring my book. The bar, as usual, was full of locals, most of whom seemed to know each other. The restaurant owner I'd met last week was there ("You were supposed to call me!" he pouted) and came over to talk. I met yet another restaurant owner, this one from Avon, who told me I'd stumbled onto the "secret" hangout of the local restaurant set. Wouldn't you just know that'd be my luck?

Their choice of location undoubtedly stems from the interesting wine list and menu at OB, the reason, along with proximity, I was back for the fourth time in less than two weeks myself. I decided that the Fess Parker Viognier was calling my name and followed with the watermelon gazpacho with grilled shrimp and spicy relish. Despite having had watermelon almost daily since coming to the beach, I enjoyed it immensely; best put, it tasted like summer in a bowl.

As I was enjoying it, a guy changed his bar stool to the one next to mine and introduced himself. It seems that Restaurant owner #1 had suggested that he see if he could fare any better with me than he had. A former South Carolinian, this was the guy who had visited the beach here while in college and upon arriving back home had decided that he couldn't live without the sound of the ocean outside his door for the rest of his life. As a result, he'd moved here without a job, determined to find a way to stay. Fast forward twenty years and here he still was and still happy about it.

He regaled me with stories about life in a beach town, including his recent vacation...to, of all places, Ocracoke. He'd chosen to vacation so nearby for the sake of taking a week long intensive storytelling workshop from Don Davis, a nationally renowned storyteller.

As someone who likes to share a story myself, I was kind of fascinated as he told me about what he'd gleaned from the classes (five hours worth a day) and about the differences in how men and women tell stories. Let's just say I didn't fit neatly into my sex's camp when it comes to storytelling but I'm used to not often fitting the female mold, so I wasn't much surprised.

Meanwhile, I was enjoying the OB Skillet, consisting of housemade rosemary Mozzarella, NC sausage, roasted garlic, olive salad and black pepper tomato jam with crostini. I've had it before and I'll undoubtedly have it again because it's such a wonderful combination of flavors (that sausage!).

My storytelling friend was bummed to hear that my fortnight at the beach was winding down. He seemed to already be imagining that we could tell beautiful stories together. I had to admit that I'd have loved to have seen the 1950s beach bungalow he'd refurbished near the oceanfront. And I was enjoying his stories of the local scene back in the late 80s and early 90s when it was so very different. As I was leaving, he slipped me his number, suggesting I call him next time I'm down so we could go to dinner and tell more stories.

Which was nice, except that if I'm still not into the whole dating thing in RVA, I'm definitely not into the out-of-town dating thing. And as it turns out, nor am I ready to shuck my real life and stay at the beach. Frankly, the music scene here just isn't good enough for my taste.

As enjoyable as my vacation has been, I haven't had a really great music conversation since I've been here (Thing chats don't count).

And we all know J-Ward girl can't live without those.