southernmost weekend

This is that time on a Saturday or Sunday. . .
To late to be mid-afternoon, to soon to be sunset.

The time when you tell yourself, "that's enough beach for today" and, while you're rolling up the beach towel, ask yourself , " What's for dinner"
or "who's playing at the Parrot tonight?"

The relaxed ride home is long enough to drift
in your sun-baked head. Time enough to think about parents, kids, the girl you just met at the concession stand;
What the hell was her name?
To think about the things you got done during the week,
the things you didn't get done and wonder whether or not any of it really matters.

You know you'll be home in time for Garrison Keillor on NPR and the news from Lake Wobegone will carry you back to that warm fuzzy place where an old girlfriend lives in the back of your mind. What if, what if?

Familiar thoughts, familiar feelings; A kind of comfort zone.
No, maybe not today.

Maybe better to stop along the way for a couple of cold ones at Willie T's with the handful of friends you know you'll see there; Dennis, Byron, Maureen and Miles, Faith and Fred. It's been another perfect weekend in the Southernmost City.
Why not celebrate it?

New things to do tomorrow but no need to worry about that now. Just travel from the beach to the bar, to home, a shower and some eats.
Then maybe later, to the Parrot to meet that new chick.
God, what the hell was her name?