THE WAVE

As most of you know, I work in East Baltimore, a quaint part of the city that is so cozy that both the Bloods and the Crips call it home.  Baltimore has some serious issues with crime, but, truly, East Baltimore is the Mecca of madness and mayhem. 

I walk, alone, up Wolfe Street around 6:30 am each morning, past the tired hookers who have been on their bac...ah, feet, all night, the sleeping homeless, the strung out addicts, the lost, lonely and confused. For some reason, none of this scares me. The Goddess will share with you the number one thing that puts fear in her heart, the beast of nightmares, the bearer of chills, the...well, you get the picture. 

Waves. 

There, I said it. 

I just spend a glorious couple of days in Ocean City, Maryland, in a lovely beachfront hotel room.  Each day I would trot myself down to the beach, select a primo spot for my umbrella and beach chaise, then run into the ocean...well, at least to the surf.  I can't seem to get over the terror of those dang waves.

"Hey, " I said to one father, holding his baby in the surf. "If a giant wave comes, can I hold on to you?" 

"Ah...I'm kinda busy here with my daughter, " he replied. Yeah, like she was sooooo special.

I wasn't always such a wuss.  Clearly  I remember those halycon days of beach frolicking, where I would stay in the water for hours, mounting those waves and riding them to shore. I was young, invincible, and so darn cute in that bikini.  

Then, one day, many years ago, IT happened. 

There I was, in the ocean, just minding my own business, when I spotted IT in the distance.  It was Wavezilla, the largest wave ever seen by human eyes.  It must have been 70 feet high, and was screeching towards the Goddess with the speed and fury of a NASCAR driver. Don't even bother to look for this in newspapers or history books, as it is one of the hush-hush secrets the government has covered up, much like what really happened to Elvis and what, exactly, is in the secret sauce at Taco Bell.

But I was there, watching this TOWER of water rushing towards me. I swear, I saw the Flying Dutchman riding the crest of Wavezilla, all of its ghostly crew pointing in my direction and screeching. 

Then it hit me. Hit me hard. I was down for the count, under the waves, nose to sand at the bottom of the ocean. I tried to swim up to the surface, but another wave came, then another.....things looked desperate for the Goddess. 

But, being the survivor I am, I did manage to get to the shore in one piece, which is exactly how much of my bikini I was still wearing. That's right, the entire beachgoing  community saw the twins in all of their natural glory. Many, many people shouted this information to me, just in case I wasn't aware.  Thanks, guys!!

Luckily,  a friend of mine appeared with a towel to cover my nearly naked self. She was out of breath from laughing so hard. My humiliation was complete.

On this most recent trip to OC, I did decide to confront the sea in an effort to reclaim my dignity.  I stood at the surf, made a fist, and declared, "As God is my witness, I will never be in fear of you again. I don't care if I have to beg, steal, lie, or...." 

Then another wave came and I hightailed it back to my hotel room. 

You win, Mother Nature. 

You win.