You may want to scroll down to Day 1 and read these in order; sometimes I don't make any sense when I am blogging daily...so it's kinda scary to blog backwards.
I'm not sure what day this happened but just like Christmas decorating has rules, there is a certain beach etiquette and definitely lines you don't cross!
One day on the beach, after everyone had headed to the condo pool, I was laying face down with my eyes closed; I may have even been drooling.
When to my surprise a family of 4 or 5 started to lay their blankets down within my beach space bubble...at least 20 feet around any towel grouping is no man's land. They have a couple of bratty kids that think feeding seagulls is more fun than jumping into the Gulf of Mexico.
For crying out loud, the beach is practically forsaken by the locals...move it on down. And for pity's sake, if you do invade someone's space have the decency to not stand around and yell to all your yuppie friends, "We're over here, we're over here!" They can see and hear you; you have a microphone attached to your larynx.
And why is it always the type "A" control freak, personality that has the loudest vocals. Discipling everyone's children, making dinner plans, scheduling all activities, and using his cell phone to relay every move he made to some poor soul back in Minnesota that must have been some kind of sadomasochist.
Then the biggest faux paux of all was talking business on vacation. He knew how to run fortune 500 companies, not his own, just random companies.
When I couldn't listen for one more second I gathered my things and headed up to the pool. I found an empty chair and soon I was lulled to sleep by the strains of sweet 6 and 7 year olds playing Marco_____Polo.
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