Son of a Beach...

The recent reports in my local paper about hiring private security guards to limit access to the public areas of beaches near their homes has really alarmed me. If something like this catches on here, I’m in for it.

“What do you mean, “Wades Beach has a checkpoint?” I asked the security guard at the entrance to the parking lot. “I’ve got my beach sticker.”
“Well, we’re trying to manage the crowds better and spread people out so everyone can enjoy the beach more,” he replied.
“I’m looking at the beach now! There’s only twenty people there at best.”
“Yes, but that’s Section One, the Beach Fit section, note the svelte icon on the sign. Section Two, the Nearly Fit section, note the beer keg icon on the sign, is farther down, there’s about forty people there now.”
“So, I have to go to an assigned section now? The one with the beer keg icon?”
“No, Ms. Flynn, you are assigned to Section Three, the Won’t Fit section, see...way down there?”
“I see a sign, I can’t read the words, but I can see a walrus icon on the sign.....hey, wait a minute....”
“That’s your assigned section. Drive to the far edge of the parking lot and if you can’t walk in, we have two attendants who will roll you in.”
“But the ice cream truck stops in front of the Beach Fit section. I can’t make it that far from the time the bells sound till I get to the truck, it will be gone by then.”
“Yes, it will, won’t it,” he replied flatly with a smirk on his face.
“Have you talked to the ice cream guy about this? That’s restriction of trade. No one in Section One is going to buy anything. They’re rather die than eat, and certainly not in public!”
“The Section Two people will make it in time. The ice man will survive.”
”That’s not fair. I always get a cream sickle. It’s part of my beach day.”
“It shouldn’t be. Why don’t you just bring a bag of lettuce and carrots sticks with you from now on until you can qualify for Section Two.”

Reluctantly I drove to the end of the parking lot and was surprised when I was met by someone from Section Two, the beer keg section.
“I can make it to the ice cream truck when it comes and get you anything you want for cost plus a buck,” he said as he leaned in my window.
“Oh, that’s so nice of you. I just want a cream sickle.”
“Why not a Toasted Almond, or Chocolate Eclair?” he asked in a low, slow voice that told me some kind of negotiation was about to begin.
“Thanks, but I have my Weight Watcher points all figured out for the day. Three points for a cream sickle, that’s all I got and still have five points left for an egg whites only Denver omelet for dinner.
“If it’s points you need, it’s points I got. I’ll sell you three of my Weight Watcher points for a fiver. Then you could have a Toasted Almond and still have your omelet tonight.”
“You’d sell your Weight Watcher points?”
“Lots of us do in Section Two. Tell your walrus friends. We want everyone to get what they want.”
“You know,” I said, “Section Three is near a clam bed. I could tread a few dozen clams for you. How’d you like a peck of clams for say, a dozen points?”
“Twelve points, that’s a lot of points. You could get a delicious reuben sandwich with ten points...”
“I think I could live with that. Ten Weight Watcher points for a peck of clams? Is it a deal?”
“Done and done,” he responded.

I got out in the water fast to tread and found a friend, a fellow walrus, out there too.
“Margaret! I never saw you tread before. Did you make a deal with that guy too?”
“Yeah. I’m getting four points and six cigarettes for a half peck of clams. What are you getting?”
“Ten points for a peck. I’m gonna give four points to Joanie for helping me with a project last week.”
“That’s nice, she’s always struggling with her points.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“You’re so lucky you aren’t trying to quit smoking. I’m just glad I found a source that Joe can’t trace. He limits me to three cigarettes a day, one after each meal, you know.”
“I feel so humiliated....Section Three, a walrus woman...”
“It’s better than Section Four. There’s only two people there. The guards feed them a bucket of dead herring each and tow them off the beach at the end of the day.”