Summer’s Down the Shore (entry from my Memoir_

by Amy Cubbison on February 21st, 2017
Every weekend in the summer we would go down to our shore home in Ocean City, NJ. I dreaded the two hour drive through smelly down town Philadelphia. I remember seeing tons of pollution in the air. My father usually drove me and one of my friends down there. Each friend would try and hint for me to take them down the shore with me on weekends.
My one of a kind Dad would often pick up hitchhikers along the way and then lecture them for hitchhiking, smoking and drugs. He was always exercising on the steering wheel by doing isometrics. He was always pulled over by the police and nine times out of ten, he got out of it. I would look over and my Dad would have the policeman trying his exercise wheel. This all happened each weekend on our journey to the Ocean City.  We were just happy to arrive alive. My Dad drove like Mr. Magoo and I inherited that trait unfortunately.  My favorite part of the drive was when my dad took the Parkway exit.   I knew that meant we were very close and about to partake in some yumminess! It was called the Parkay Deli.  I would always get the same thing. A French roll with turkey, lettuce, mayonnaise and American cheese. It was the most delicious sandwich ever.  My Dad would get his favorite Tasty cakes and Coke.
My Father loved chocolate almost as much as he loved me. When we arrived Ocean City I was so excited. I loved going to the shore for many reasons. The main one probably being that my parents were together there and we did family things. The town Ocean City was and is a dry town. It is very family oriented, with beautiful white large beaches. The sand dunes were gorgeous. Everyone keeps their homes very nice. On Sundays my Dad would take my friend and I to the boardwalk. We would rent bikes and when we got to the end of the boardwalk there were a couple shops that made homemade tiny donuts. We would watch them be made and drop in the oil. They would come out warm and we would dip in our coffee.
A major part of my childhood happiness was going down the shore in the summer. We owned a condo in Ocean City, New Jersey. The town was a dry town so no alcohol was allowed.  That kept the rif raf out. It was a safe conservative town.  All of the houses were lined up perfectly with perfect land scaping. They were cape cod style and there was no such thing as a dump.  People took such pride in their homes and decorated them with sea shells. There were four main streets parallel to the ocean. The streets went from first street until about 60th. It was hard to get lost there.
All year I would look forwrd to that time down the shore.  Our family would all go to the beach together. We had big rafts, and would be in the ocean the entire day. I remember my father pulling us in this big raft thinking he was the strongest man in the world. He would have a huge smile on his face although my mother always made him take us.  We would fly kites and enjoy the innocence of the time. The best was when the ice cream man came or even better the food truck. They were ahead of the times. They had yummy hot dogs, Italian water ice, soft pretzels and more (when I moved to California they did not have this ad I never understood why)  One of our favorite things to do was to put pennies on the railroad track and then get them after the train past.  An activity that I would not wish on my children or any children for that matter.
My mother was always studying as she was in law school. I remember her with her yellow highlighter where she marked the important parts in her book. She was always sitting on her bright yellow, plastic recylining chair. I would sit right next to her on the chair. It was always after I got out of the water and I was cold. I would put my new terri cloth robe and and my mother would have hers on. My mother would also always bring down a delicious salad and orange juice and tonic water. She would make sandwiches that were filled with anything good. They always had so much flavor and were loaded with pickles, relish, mustard, and a lean sliced meat. (not processed)   My mom had a nack for making good sandwiches. She still does to this day. I always say no thank you to her sandwiches and then once I take a bit, I retract my answer.
I would have my last swim in the ocean for the day and walk home in my bikini freezing beach home solo freezing. All the while dreaming of my hot steamy bath.  I think that is first where I fell in love with hot baths. I loved the feeling of being cold and then being super clean, and warm with a sun kissed glow. I would sink my entire body, all four ft ten in to the full tub. I would then go under with my ears and sing songs. Once again I thought that it was the water and not my voice that sounded so bad.
I can still close my eyes and visualize Ocean City. Huge beaches with white, white sand, and sand dunes.  In August the jelly fish would come out to play.  There always were bugs around that were annoying. You had to bring bug spray everywhere. My legs were covered in mosquito bites.  The air was super humid and at times to humid.
Every Sunday my father would take me and my friend to the boardwalk. They rented bikes and it was a popular thing to do. We usually would rent a surrey. That was a square bike that seated four. That or a tripple bike.   When we got to the end of the boardwalk we would stop for donuts.  They had several shops that would stricly make donuts. The donuts were tiny and we would watch the batter drop down in to the oil. They would come out steaming and then they would add powdered sugar, brown sugar or chocolate. They were so yummy. I would dip them in to my coffee and be in heaven.
On Sunday’s we would have Sunday breakfast. My Dad would make his special potatoes and shake them in a brown bag to distribute the salt evenly. Often, my mother would make crepes, which were delicious. I always looked forward to those mornings.
At night my friends and I would take the jitney (a little bus)  to the boardwalk. The boardwalk was about three miles of wood plank connected. It had alot of amusements, candy, games, shops, food and people selling things We would go in the arcades and play Pac Man, Centipede, Space Invaders, and Donkey Kong. God I miss those games.  We would order Mac n Manco pizza………the best. We would watch the cute guys flip the pizza dough.  We would get home made waffles filled with ice cream, home made lemonade an carmel pop corn.
When I was younger we would walk along the boardwalk and be in awe of the talent and specialties that Ocean City had to offer.  The boardwalk lit up like Haley’s Comet and more. The sounds, the smells, the energy. It was fantastic.  Ocean City also specialised in salt water taffy. They had a whole museum about the origins of it and would mix it up in a big pot for everyone to see.  Mr. Peanut was always in the window as well. Planters originated from there as well. There were many local artists who would heat glass and create beautiful animals, dishes and trays.
When my parents went out often times Minor would watch us. She was no fun. She caught us climbing out of the window in our room. She would scream
“Get back in.”  and she would threaten to tell my parents. We always listened but Minor caught me in everything I did. She rarely told on me but the threat was there.
As we got older we were less interested in those type of things and more interested in PJ-13 or R rated things. We were on the lookout for beer and or cigarettes.  We usually would find cigarettes (sometimes on the ground or at a construction site). We would smoke them to look cool in front of the arcade so the boys would notice us. Nothing much every happened until it did which took the innocence away from me and the shore.  Around the age of twelve the lifeguards began to notice us or vica versa.  We would flirt with them for hours and never leave the stand. Eventually we knew every life guard at every street as we returned each season. We would go to keg parties and get drunk on a half of beer.
When I was around twelve, there were these two dark skinned Hawaiian twin brothers. I was smitten. They were friend with the life guards. One of the brothers named Bob told me he worked in Wonderland running the rides. He asked me to come visit him the following weekend. I had butterflies in my stomach. He was so handsome to me. That week at him that was all I could think about. I remember getting ready to go meet him and I was so excited. I went up to him in Wonderland and he looked shocked to see me. He was 23 and I never thought about the age difference. I waited for him after work. We then got in his car, a broken down, beat up one. He had beer in his car. He took me to the beach and we sat in the life guard stand drinking. I could barely finish a beer and I felt like all I wanted to do was burp. He gave me a gentle kiss and then guided me down to his private area. He pushed my head down there and proceeded to teach me how to perform a blow job. I had heard about them but never experienced it first hand. I felt sort of proud of myself in a weird way when he dropped me off. I thought we had a date and were going to be dating.  That was not Bob’s expectation or intention.
This so called date happened every weekend. He would meet up with me take me under the boardwalk and I would perform for him. He saw my friend writing Cindy and Bob in the sand and he scolded her. I am sure he realized the implications of things and that it was illegal . All of o time I was thinking we were dating. I made jokes about it over the years but as I matured I realize that hurt me in many ways.  From then on the shore became a place of escapades not innocent memories. I returned at fifteen for the entire summer with my friend Lisa. We are mortified at what we did and that our parents let us stay there alone. If they only knew half of it. The thoughts of this makes me want to cry to this day.
On a much happier note. My parents were world travelers, By the time I was twelve, I had been to over twenty states, and about five countries. As I grew older those numbers kept on expanding.
When I was in sixth grade we took a family trip to Israel. I was twelve years of age..  I journaled about the entire experience. It is fun to look back on it today. It was an interesting trip and I loved being with my siblings. I did not know how dangerous it was or I would have been panicking the entire trip   My most vivid memory of being there was floating in the Dead Sea. We covered ourselves in therapeutic mud and then floated in the buoyant ocean with no hands. I took a big piece of crystalized drift wood home in my bag, not knowing it was a federal offense. Oopsy. When I read my journal I describe the food there more than anything in the country. I am a foody from a family of foodies. The first question out of our mouths when someone travels somewhere is asking about the food. My little girl loves food like I do and always gets cravings and talks about it. She inherited my father’s love of sweets and chocolate.
My teacher Miss Zieglar was so excited to read my journal when I returned. To me I thought a trip like this was just normal. I had my first semi boyfriend in sixth grade. This new boy named Brian transferred from another state. At first I hated him and he drove me crazy We fought all of the time. . That annoyance and hatred soon turned to crazy love. I always liked boys even when we were spraying girl spray to get rid of boys germs.
I loved my time with my mother or father alone. My mother and i would go shopping and out to lunch often. When I was small I was forever paging my mother upstairs in the department store because we got separated.    We would go out to wonderful restaurants often. No wonder I became such a foodie, and a shopaholic.  In the evening we would go out for nice dinners minimum of three times a week. I mean nice restaurants. I hated going.  One instance I was at my friend’s Peggys house and her parents said that we were going out to dinner. I was so bummed until I found out they meant McDonalds…….Then I was thrilled.
My Dad and I joined Indian Princesses when I was about nine. It was so special to me. My name was Little Snowflake and my father’s was Iron Horse….so fitting. We would go camping and fishing and roast marshmellows……..It was great until I grew out of it. I loved to go to the meetings with my father as he was not working and or distracted.
It came time for sixth grade camp. Yikes. I still had some little habits I was not

Every weekend in the summer we would go down to our shore home in Ocean City, NJ. I dreaded the two hour drive through smelly down town Philadelphia. I remember seeing tons of pollution in the air. My father usually drove me and one of my friends down there. Each friend would try and hint for me to take them down the shore with me on weekends.
My one of a kind Dad would often pick up hitchhikers along the way and then lecture them for hitchhiking, smoking and drugs. He was always exercising on the steering wheel by doing isometrics. He was always pulled over by the police and nine times out of ten, he got out of it. I would look over and my Dad would have the policeman trying his exercise wheel. This all happened each weekend on our journey to the Ocean City.  We were just happy to arrive alive. My Dad drove like Mr. Magoo and I inherited that trait unfortunately.  My favorite part of the drive was when my dad took the Parkway exit.   I knew that meant we were very close and about to partake in some yumminess! It was called the Parkay Deli.  I would always get the same thing. A French roll with turkey, lettuce, mayonnaise and American cheese. It was the most delicious sandwich ever.  My Dad would get his favorite Tasty cakes and Coke.
My Father loved chocolate almost as much as he loved me. When we arrived Ocean City I was so excited. I loved going to the shore for many reasons. The main one probably being that my parents were together there and we did family things. The town Ocean City was and is a dry town. It is very family oriented, with beautiful white large beaches. The sand dunes were gorgeous. Everyone keeps their homes very nice. On Sundays my Dad would take my friend and I to the boardwalk. We would rent bikes and when we got to the end of the boardwalk there were a couple shops that made homemade tiny donuts. We would watch them be made and drop in the oil. They would come out warm and we would dip in our coffee.
A major part of my childhood happiness was going down the shore in the summer. We owned a condo in Ocean City, New Jersey. The town was a dry town so no alcohol was allowed.  That kept the rif raf out. It was a safe conservative town.  All of the houses were lined up perfectly with perfect land scaping. They were cape cod style and there was no such thing as a dump.  People took such pride in their homes and decorated them with sea shells. There were four main streets parallel to the ocean. The streets went from first street until about 60th. It was hard to get lost there.
All year I would look forwrd to that time down the shore.  Our family would all go to the beach together. We had big rafts, and would be in the ocean the entire day. I remember my father pulling us in this big raft thinking he was the strongest man in the world. He would have a huge smile on his face although my mother always made him take us.  We would fly kites and enjoy the innocence of the time. The best was when the ice cream man came or even better the food truck. They were ahead of the times. They had yummy hot dogs, Italian water ice, soft pretzels and more (when I moved to California they did not have this ad I never understood why)  One of our favorite things to do was to put pennies on the railroad track and then get them after the train past.  An activity that I would not wish on my children or any children for that matter.
My mother was always studying as she was in law school. I remember her with her yellow highlighter where she marked the important parts in her book. She was always sitting on her bright yellow, plastic recylining chair. I would sit right next to her on the chair. It was always after I got out of the water and I was cold. I would put my new terri cloth robe and and my mother would have hers on. My mother would also always bring down a delicious salad and orange juice and tonic water. She would make sandwiches that were filled with anything good. They always had so much flavor and were loaded with pickles, relish, mustard, and a lean sliced meat. (not processed)   My mom had a nack for making good sandwiches. She still does to this day. I always say no thank you to her sandwiches and then once I take a bit, I retract my answer.
I would have my last swim in the ocean for the day and walk home in my bikini freezing beach home solo freezing. All the while dreaming of my hot steamy bath.  I think that is first where I fell in love with hot baths. I loved the feeling of being cold and then being super clean, and warm with a sun kissed glow. I would sink my entire body, all four ft ten in to the full tub. I would then go under with my ears and sing songs. Once again I thought that it was the water and not my voice that sounded so bad.
I can still close my eyes and visualize Ocean City. Huge beaches with white, white sand, and sand dunes.  In August the jelly fish would come out to play.  There always were bugs around that were annoying. You had to bring bug spray everywhere. My legs were covered in mosquito bites.  The air was super humid and at times to humid.
Every Sunday my father would take me and my friend to the boardwalk. They rented bikes and it was a popular thing to do. We usually would rent a surrey. That was a square bike that seated four. That or a tripple bike.   When we got to the end of the boardwalk we would stop for donuts.  They had several shops that would stricly make donuts. The donuts were tiny and we would watch the batter drop down in to the oil. They would come out steaming and then they would add powdered sugar, brown sugar or chocolate. They were so yummy. I would dip them in to my coffee and be in heaven.
On Sunday’s we would have Sunday breakfast. My Dad would make his special potatoes and shake them in a brown bag to distribute the salt evenly. Often, my mother would make crepes, which were delicious. I always looked forward to those mornings.
At night my friends and I would take the jitney (a little bus)  to the boardwalk. The boardwalk was about three miles of wood plank connected. It had alot of amusements, candy, games, shops, food and people selling things We would go in the arcades and play Pac Man, Centipede, Space Invaders, and Donkey Kong. God I miss those games.  We would order Mac n Manco pizza………the best. We would watch the cute guys flip the pizza dough.  We would get home made waffles filled with ice cream, home made lemonade an carmel pop corn.
When I was younger we would walk along the boardwalk and be in awe of the talent and specialties that Ocean City had to offer.  The boardwalk lit up like Haley’s Comet and more. The sounds, the smells, the energy. It was fantastic.  Ocean City also specialised in salt water taffy. They had a whole museum about the origins of it and would mix it up in a big pot for everyone to see.  Mr. Peanut was always in the window as well. Planters originated from there as well. There were many local artists who would heat glass and create beautiful animals, dishes and trays.
When my parents went out often times Minor would watch us. She was no fun. She caught us climbing out of the window in our room. She would scream
“Get back in.”  and she would threaten to tell my parents. We always listened but Minor caught me in everything I did. She rarely told on me but the threat was there.
As we got older we were less interested in those type of things and more interested in PJ-13 or R rated things. We were on the lookout for beer and or cigarettes.  We usually would find cigarettes (sometimes on the ground or at a construction site). We would smoke them to look cool in front of the arcade so the boys would notice us. Nothing much every happened until it did which took the innocence away from me and the shore.  Around the age of twelve the lifeguards began to notice us or vica versa.  We would flirt with them for hours and never leave the stand. Eventually we knew every life guard at every street as we returned each season. We would go to keg parties and get drunk on a half of beer.
When I was around twelve, there were these two dark skinned Hawaiian twin brothers. I was smitten. They were friend with the life guards. One of the brothers named Bob told me he worked in Wonderland running the rides. He asked me to come visit him the following weekend. I had butterflies in my stomach. He was so handsome to me. That week at him that was all I could think about. I remember getting ready to go meet him and I was so excited. I went up to him in Wonderland and he looked shocked to see me. He was 23 and I never thought about the age difference. I waited for him after work. We then got in his car, a broken down, beat up one. He had beer in his car. He took me to the beach and we sat in the life guard stand drinking. I could barely finish a beer and I felt like all I wanted to do was burp. He gave me a gentle kiss and then guided me down to his private area. He pushed my head down there and proceeded to teach me how to perform a blow job. I had heard about them but never experienced it first hand. I felt sort of proud of myself in a weird way when he dropped me off. I thought we had a date and were going to be dating.  That was not Bob’s expectation or intention.
This so called date happened every weekend. He would meet up with me take me under the boardwalk and I would perform for him. He saw my friend writing Cindy and Bob in the sand and he scolded her. I am sure he realized the implications of things and that it was illegal . All of o time I was thinking we were dating. I made jokes about it over the years but as I matured I realize that hurt me in many ways.  From then on the shore became a place of escapades not innocent memories. I returned at fifteen for the entire summer with my friend Lisa. We are mortified at what we did and that our parents let us stay there alone. If they only knew half of it. The thoughts of this makes me want to cry to this day.
On a much happier note. My parents were world travelers, By the time I was twelve, I had been to over twenty states, and about five countries. As I grew older those numbers kept on expanding.
When I was in sixth grade we took a family trip to Israel. I was twelve years of age..  I journaled about the entire experience. It is fun to look back on it today. It was an interesting trip and I loved being with my siblings. I did not know how dangerous it was or I would have been panicking the entire trip   My most vivid memory of being there was floating in the Dead Sea. We covered ourselves in therapeutic mud and then floated in the buoyant ocean with no hands. I took a big piece of crystalized drift wood home in my bag, not knowing it was a federal offense. Oopsy. When I read my journal I describe the food there more than anything in the country. I am a foody from a family of foodies. The first question out of our mouths when someone travels somewhere is asking about the food. My little girl loves food like I do and always gets cravings and talks about it. She inherited my father’s love of sweets and chocolate.
My teacher Miss Zieglar was so excited to read my journal when I returned. To me I thought a trip like this was just normal. I had my first semi boyfriend in sixth grade. This new boy named Brian transferred from another state. At first I hated him and he drove me crazy We fought all of the time. . That annoyance and hatred soon turned to crazy love. I always liked boys even when we were spraying girl spray to get rid of boys germs.
I loved my time with my mother or father alone. My mother and i would go shopping and out to lunch often. When I was small I was forever paging my mother upstairs in the department store because we got separated.    We would go out to wonderful restaurants often. No wonder I became such a foodie, and a shopaholic.  In the evening we would go out for nice dinners minimum of three times a week. I mean nice restaurants. I hated going.  One instance I was at my friend’s Peggys house and her parents said that we were going out to dinner. I was so bummed until I found out they meant McDonalds…….Then I was thrilled.
My Dad and I joined Indian Princesses when I was about nine. It was so special to me. My name was Little Snowflake and my father’s was Iron Horse….so fitting. We would go camping and fishing and roast marshmellows……..It was great until I grew out of it. I loved to go to the meetings with my father as he was not working and or distracted.
It came time for sixth grade camp. Yikes. I still had some little habits I was notEvery weekend in the summer we would go down to our shore home in Ocean City, NJ. I dreaded the two hour drive through smelly down town Philadelphia. I remember seeing tons of pollution in the air. My father usually drove me and one of my friends down there. Each friend would try and hint for me to take them down the shore with me on weekends.
My one of a kind Dad would often pick up hitchhikers along the way and then lecture them for hitchhiking, smoking and drugs. He was always exercising on the steering wheel by doing isometrics. He was always pulled over by the police and nine times out of ten, he got out of it. I would look over and my Dad would have the policeman trying his exercise wheel. This all happened each weekend on our journey to the Ocean City. We were just happy to arrive alive. My Dad drove like Mr. Magoo and I inherited that trait unfortunately. My favorite part of the drive was when my dad took the Parkway exit. I knew that meant we were very close and about to partake in some yumminess! It was called the Parkay Deli. I would always get the same thing. A French roll with turkey, lettuce, mayonnaise and American cheese. It was the most delicious sandwich ever. My Dad would get his favorite Tasty cakes and Coke.
My Father loved chocolate almost as much as he loved me. When we arrived Ocean City I was so excited. I loved going to the shore for many reasons. The main one probably being that my parents were together there and we did family things. The town Ocean City was and is a dry town. It is very family oriented, with beautiful white large beaches. The sand dunes were gorgeous. Everyone keeps their homes very nice. On Sundays my Dad would take my friend and I to the boardwalk. We would rent bikes and when we got to the end of the boardwalk there were a couple shops that made homemade tiny donuts. We would watch them be made and drop in the oil. They would come out warm and we would dip in our coffee.A major part of my childhood happiness was going down the shore in the summer. We owned a condo in Ocean City, New Jersey. The town was a dry town so no alcohol was allowed. That kept the rif raf out. It was a safe conservative town. All of the houses were lined up perfectly with perfect land scaping. They were cape cod style and there was no such thing as a dump. People took such pride in their homes and decorated them with sea shells. There were four main streets parallel to the ocean. The streets went from first street until about 60th. It was hard to get lost there.
All year I would look forwrd to that time down the shore. Our family would all go to the beach together. We had big rafts, and would be in the ocean the entire day. I remember my father pulling us in this big raft thinking he was the strongest man in the world. He would have a huge smile on his face although my mother always made him take us. We would fly kites and enjoy the innocence of the time. The best was when the ice cream man came or even better the food truck. They were ahead of the times. They had yummy hot dogs, Italian water ice, soft pretzels and more (when I moved to California they did not have this ad I never understood why) One of our favorite things to do was to put pennies on the railroad track and then get them after the train past. An activity that I would not wish on my children or any children for that matter.
My mother was always studying as she was in law school. I remember her with her yellow highlighter where she marked the important parts in her book. She was always sitting on her bright yellow, plastic recylining chair. I would sit right next to her on the chair. It was always after I got out of the water and I was cold. I would put my new terri cloth robe and and my mother would have hers on. My mother would also always bring down a delicious salad and orange juice and tonic water. She would make sandwiches that were filled with anything good. They always had so much flavor and were loaded with pickles, relish, mustard, and a lean sliced meat. (not processed) My mom had a nack for making good sandwiches. She still does to this day. I always say no thank you to her sandwiches and then once I take a bit, I retract my answer.
I would have my last swim in the ocean for the day and walk home in my bikini freezing beach home solo freezing. All the while dreaming of my hot steamy bath. I think that is first where I fell in love with hot baths. I loved the feeling of being cold and then being super clean, and warm with a sun kissed glow. I would sink my entire body, all four ft ten in to the full tub. I would then go under with my ears and sing songs. Once again I thought that it was the water and not my voice that sounded so bad.
I can still close my eyes and visualize Ocean City. Huge beaches with white, white sand, and sand dunes. In August the jelly fish would come out to play. There always were bugs around that were annoying. You had to bring bug spray everywhere. My legs were covered in mosquito bites. The air was super humid and at times to humid.

Every Sunday my father would take me and my friend to the boardwalk. They rented bikes and it was a popular thing to do. We usually would rent a surrey. That was a square bike that seated four. That or a tripple bike. When we got to the end of the boardwalk we would stop for donuts. They had several shops that would stricly make donuts. The donuts were tiny and we would watch the batter drop down in to the oil. They would come out steaming and then they would add powdered sugar, brown sugar or chocolate. They were so yummy. I would dip them in to my coffee and be in heaven.
On Sunday’s we would have Sunday breakfast. My Dad would make his special potatoes and shake them in a brown bag to distribute the salt evenly. Often, my mother would make crepes, which were delicious. I always looked forward to those mornings.
At night my friends and I would take the jitney (a little bus) to the boardwalk. The boardwalk was about three miles of wood plank connected. It had alot of amusements, candy, games, shops, food and people selling things We would go in the arcades and play Pac Man, Centipede, Space Invaders, and Donkey Kong. God I miss those games. We would order Mac n Manco pizza………the best. We would watch the cute guys flip the pizza dough. We would get home made waffles filled with ice cream, home made lemonade an carmel pop corn.
When I was younger we would walk along the boardwalk and be in awe of the talent and specialties that Ocean City had to offer. The boardwalk lit up like Haley’s Comet and more. The sounds, the smells, the energy. It was fantastic. Ocean City also specialized in salt water taffy. They had a whole museum about the origins of it and would mix it up in a big pot for everyone to see. Mr. Peanut was always in the window as well. Planters originated from there as well. There were many local artists who would heat glass and create beautiful animals, dishes and trays.
When my parents went out often times Minor would watch us. She was no fun. She caught us climbing out of the window in our room. She would scream
“Get back in.” and she would threaten to tell my parents. We always listened but Minor caught me in everything I did. She rarely told on me but the threat was there.
As we got older we were less interested in those type of things and more interested in PJ-13 or R rated things. We were on the lookout for beer and or cigarettes. We usually would find cigarettes (sometimes on the ground or at a construction site). We would smoke them to look cool in front of the arcade so the boys would notice us. Nothing much every happened until it did which took the innocence away from me and the shore. Around the age of twelve the lifeguards began to notice us or vica versa. We would flirt with them for hours and never leave the stand. Eventually we knew every life guard at every street as we returned each season. We would go to keg parties and get drunk on a half of beer.
When I was around twelve, there were these two dark skinned Hawaiian twin brothers. I was smitten. They were friend with the life guards. One of the brothers named Bob told me he worked in Wonderland running the rides. He asked me to come visit him the following weekend. I had butterflies in my stomach. He was so handsome to me. That week at him that was all I could think about. I remember getting ready to go meet him and I was so excited. I went up to him in Wonderland and he looked shocked to see me. He was 23 and I never thought about the age difference. I waited for him after work. We then got in his car, a broken down, beat up one. He had beer in his car. He took me to the beach and we sat in the life guard stand drinking. I could barely finish a beer and I felt like all I wanted to do was burp. He gave me a gentle kiss and then guided me down to his private area. He pushed my head down there and proceeded to teach me how to perform a blow job. I had heard about them but never experienced it first hand. I felt sort of proud of myself in a weird way when he dropped me off. I thought we had a date and were going to be dating. That was not Bob’s expectation or intention.
This so called date happened every weekend. He would meet up with me take me under the boardwalk and I would perform for him. He saw my friend writing Cindy and Bob in the sand and he scolded her. I am sure he realized the implications of things and that it was illegal . All of o time I was thinking we were dating. I made jokes about it over the years but as I matured I realize that hurt me in many ways. From then on the shore became a place of escapades not innocent memories. I returned at fifteen for the entire summer with my friend Lisa. We are mortified at what we did and that our parents let us stay there alone. If they only knew half of it. The thoughts of this makes me want to cry to this day.

From my-life

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