Mugged!

You leave Manhattan and you get mugged. Seriously? Seriously. Tim and I went to Martha's Vineyard this weekend to stay with a friend who has a really sweet spot up there. Okay, it's his uncle's spot but it's really sweet anyway. That's only like 2 degrees away from utter WASPness. Whatever.  Onto the mugging... (if this is a bit rambling it is because Tim is standing behind me in his underwear- we decided to play undies only around the house for the night. ((We're back in our apartment in the city for those of you who were worried for the second degree Wasps.)) )

Friday we had an amazing classical Martha's Vineyard day: we took the ferry into town, we went to the beach, we bought fresh fish and cooked it on the grill while drinking rose and watching the sun set. I was even allowed to wear my pearls (Tim hates them). The next morning, Tim and I ventured off alone on a 20+ mile bike ride that started out as quite simply, amazing. We rode through the hills and valleys to some point called Aquinnah or Squibnocket or Squagglehobbits or something like that then took our bikes down onto a desolate beach under some cliffs. It was gorgeous but as I was on the rag and fighting with a nasty demonic ovary, I was admittedly a little cranky and we parted ways for a bit. Tim lounged out on some giant rock for a while like a Merman/ lone wolf while I took a little nap by the bikes. When I woke up later, Tim was gone and I was like, whatever, I'll just go back to sleep until he comes back- I'm sure he's just off on some moody walk to air his demons. I fell back asleep and was woken up by some rustling directly behind me. I sat up and saw this huge seagull rustling through the brown bag I got from the Chilmark General Store on our way there. I wasn't worried at first because all it had in it was a box of tampons and some cash but then that mother fucker lifted up the bag and flew off with it. I was like. Wait. OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU STUPID FUCKING SEAGULL GET BACK HERE!!! and started running at what I must say was an impressively quick pace for someone who just woke up and was running in sand because I remembered that not only was there some cash in that bag, there was actually $54 AND my Visa. Sprinting my friends, sprinting. And that stupid fucking seagull just kept flying and stopping and flying and stopping and every time I'd get close to it, it would fly again. It even dropped the bag in the ocean once, but then picked it back up and flew back onto the beach, thank God. But I still couldn't catch that motherfucker. It was laughing at me. The closer I got, the more it laughed. I was about to give up when all of a sudden my White Knight (Tim) ran up and threw a rock at the seagull and don't you know it? That actually worked. Although it managed to snag 40 bucks out of the bag and flew off with it. One of the twenties flew out of its stupid fucking mouth but it got away with a 20. I guess that's better than the whole lot. Getting a new credit card is such a pain in the ass.
So yeah, I got mugged by a seagull in Martha's Vineyard. Oh well, it could have been worse I guess. 20 bucks is twenty bucks. And that the White Knight was born from it is priceless. You can bet your sweet ass you'll be hearing about him again. I know I have. Over and over and over and over and over....
and over
and over
and over
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