People have been telling you about the ocean for years. You usually try to ignore what they’re saying, shrug it off like it ain’t nothin’, but lately you’ve been wondering if it’s all it’s cracked up to be.
“Hear they’ve got sharks there,” you’ll mutter to your wife, who will respond by changing the channel from NBC to ABC on the off chance that CSI Miami will be on to show you just how uncool the ocean really is, especially when David Carusoe’s around.
“Heard it’s big,” you’ll tell your estranged son at the coffee shop meetup he arranges so that he can tell you he’s gay. He won’t know how to respond, he’ll be so shocked that you’re cool with him liking dick.
“Guess I might as well see it,” you’ll say to your father’s casket the morning before you get into a car and brave the two hour drive from Springfield, Massachusetts to Falmouth, Massachusetts, where you’ll just barely find parking and stumble on to the beach to find it all but abandoned, a handful of local kids out playing in the surf in the middle of the day.
“Bigger than I thought,” you’ll say to yourself. You’ll stay out there a few hours before driving home to not speak to your wife for the rest of the day.
Congratulations on Finally Seeing the Ocean!
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