The Lake Part I

I'm walking around the lake where the Pretty People run, bike and rollerblade in various forms of undress. I am engaged in a battle of will with the straps of my tank top. They want nothing to do with my bra straps. Somehow, the display of a mere part of an undergarment everyone basically is assuming I'm wearing anyway has placed me in leauge with the twenty-somethings glilding and glistening by. The guy selling cold drinks near the beatch chats be up. Another on his bike stares at me. I smile and too late sense that it was the wrong thing to do with this particular starer. He has that look....

I am at the pavillion where I enjoy an iced tea and dried apples in the sun. This is what I hear around me: "NO, you don't take him out for BEERS. What you need to get across to this kid is that, if he's intelligent and applies himself, he can get a six-figure job and afford the kind ok lifestyle he wants."

"Jakhimo!" shouts the guy delivering the sea food from The Tin Fish. Jakhimo... Jakhimo...where have I heard that before? Oh, yes, the vandal they are trying to catch. The one who cleverly scratched his name several times into the new wooden chairs. I watch. Sure enough, the man delivering the food has a chat with young Jakhimo's father, a man with long dreds in a rasta hat. He shows him the picture they have posted of the vandalism. The man nods, and returns to his son where he engages in a quiet reprimand. They enjoy their fries.