Aug 10 2009
August-itis
When I lived year-round on the Cape, August was the most awful month of the year. All of us who worked the season had a condition we called August-itis which meant we were tired, cranky, fed up with the crowds, and ready for the end of Labor Day Weekend. However, those of us working in restaurants also knew it was the time we would make most of our money, so we tried to suck it up and be nice to the White-Zinfandel-drinking-”Can-I-have some-more-rolls,” cheap tippers who always arrived early to secure a great seat overlooking the water and then parked themselves there for hours while the sun went down and their checks stayed stagnant. We needed to turn those tables to make some serious cash, and the later diners were always much more generous with their wallets. Still, we bit our tongues and filled their water glasses for the eighth time while fondling the check holder and asking, “Are you all set with this?”
At night, we partied. With our pockets full of fat bundles of twenties, we paraded down the main drag in our black pants and white shirts with loosened ties, looking for fun. It was easy to find, and because our nights started so late, we often saw the sun brightening the bay on an early bike ride home from the evening’s festivities. Then we slept and did it all over again the next night.
Now I’m a teacher and my favorite month is August (until the end when school starts). I suck the marrow out of every day, floating in lakes or the sea and staying up late to see the whole Red Sox game instead of just the first four innings. Tomatoes, corn, lobster, fresh mozzarella, basil, blueberries — these are the foods of August that grace our tables every evening. Reading is a daily activity, not something that involves stolen moments or required texts. And rain is just a good excuse to play on the computer all day — no problem!
August may be referred to negatively as “the dog days,” but my dogs love it because I’m home a lot. They’re going on walks and swimming in rivers. At night they bark at squirrels from the front porch and chew bones on the couch because it’s summer and they can do whatever they want. Yeah, we can do whatever we want…
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So many wonderful, rich lines in your writing:
Still, we bit our tongues and filled their water glasses for the eighth time while fondling the check holder and asking, “Are you all set with this?”
With our pockets full of fat bundles of twenties, we paraded down the main drag in our black pants and white shirts with loosened ties, looking for fun.
I suck the marrow out of every day, floating in lakes or the sea and staying up late to see the whole Red Sox game instead of just the first four innings.
I could go on, but then I’d just be copying and pasting your entire piece. Thanks for writing so vividly today. It was good inspiration for me as I sit down and get ready to write (myself).
I don’t know how I missed this one when you first posted. Nice writin’, Dawg!