Today’s throw-back is a lesson in romantic gestures…
It was a school day, I remember that. We either didn’t have a class or it was during a break between them, but somehow we found time to go to the beach during the day. It was our favorite spot – good ole’ Tybee Island.
Our relationship as a couple was pretty new and still figuring itself out, but I knew it was time for a romantic gesture. When Clifford was in high school he worked at Atlanta Bread Company and when I came to Savannah, to me, ABC sandwiches were literally the greatest thing since sliced bread. I scraped enough money to buy us lunch and borrowed his Saturn to go pick it up. It was going to be a surprise after all, because what truly great romantic gestures aren’t surprises?
I brought the car back and hid the sandwiches in my bag. We headed to the island. It was about a twenty minute drive from downtown. Once we arrived, he parked on one of the side streets near a walkway to the beach. That’s when I made my move. If I knew one thing about Clifford, though he may hate people, he LOVES food.
I pulled the ABC sack out of my bag. “Surprise! I got us lunch!”
He looked at me and smiled (that was back when he used to smile), and seemed impressed. He appeared genuinely taken aback that I had made this effort and ordered his favorite sandwich just as he liked it (something I apparently have failed to do ever since).
“Where should we eat?” he asked.
“We can eat on a bench on one of those walkways over the dunes,” I said.
We grabbed our stuff and headed toward the walkway. It was RIDICULOUSLY windy that day. It was the kind of wind that puts Chicago’s to shame. So we sat, with the ocean air rushing around us, struggling to eat our food without it flying away. And not so romantic really, either, as sand stung our faces before making its way into our mouths every time we’d take a bite. But that’s ok. We were newly in love and what mattered was that we were eating sand-filled sandwiches together…
How it was supposed to be.
I remember smiling at Clifford and his gritty sandy teeth, all doe-eyed and dreamy, when he flinched.
“What was that?” he asked. He swatted at his face then held out his hand. “Is it raining?”
“No. It might just be spray from the ocean,” I offered, still dreamy. He agreed and we continued with our little romantic escapade that wasn’t exactly as I had envisioned it.
Then he felt it again. “Seriously, I think it’s raining. I feel it. It’s more than spray. Maybe we should pack up. It might begin to pour.”
But there hadn’t been rain in the forecast. That’s why it was going to be so perfect. I looked up expecting to see the blue skies TWC had promised me that very morn, and lo and behold, I didn’t see blue skies. I saw birds. Lots and lots and lots of birds. I’d seen the movie enough to know – I jumped to my feet while screaming and pointing, “Birds!!! Cliff!!!! It’s the Birds!!!! RUN!!!!”
We hadn’t heard them because of the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach mixed with the wind from another world. Clifford looked up, his eyes got wider. “Oh my god! They are SHITTING on me!!!!”
Clifford shrieking as the birds attacked – with their poo.
He took off faster than I did. I at least grabbed the remnants of our romantic sand-sandwiches before following suit. I don’t really recall who was screaming more like a girl in that moment. I was swatting at my hair with one hand and our lunch in the other. Clifford was being chased by the birds all the way to the car, wailing at the top of his lungs. And yes, he had bird crap all over from head to toe.
A no-take-back, surprisingly, because though the grand romantic gesture had gone horribly awry, I will remember it fondly as one of our first official new-couple dates. I will also remember to not eat things at the beach.
