Summer, day 2
So bloody depressing with the sunshine impressed overhead. [very good]
We, the people, we emerge from the Endless Winter of 2017 and now a man is supposed to utilise a whole new wardrobe of effects and what-not.
I am not wearing those harbour Hawaiian shorts. I shall not wear tassels on my feet. No loafer. Well, I am a loafer, a professional loafer.
I might wear flip-flops.
There are steps down to the water at Scarborough North Bay. I was thinking possibly to shoulder my three millimetre, the other one, down to the water’s edge and hurl myself bodily into the water, the sea, not the ocean up here. Although they claim it as ocean, some people do.
But I say to you [politician] the Atlantic is around the corner up past Scotland, or you might head the other way. It does get rather busy down there in the Channel, swimming especially. I would not advise swimming in a shipping channel – unless you have a decent front crawl in your armoury and catch one of these Chinese vessels by the propeller. That would be a proper thrill.
If I do swim, yes it will be crawl, and if I sense nobody is watching maybe some backstroke. If it was dark I would swim my butterfly but confidence is low for night swimming. Night swimming that requires intoxication generally.
I will take my mobile camera down to the water’s edge, but not my wallet, officially. That skateboard park down there, there’s some roughy hoodlums in their hoodies might take my wallet. Not one of them had any Maryjoanna when I asked yesterday. I will have to ask the fairground chaps, or maybe the shell-fish stand this side of the bay. ‘They call it dat,’ I’ll say.
Back to the point. Yes, I’ll take a photograph for the local newspaper. Now, if any gentlemen of the press are reading, or your photographer – first swim of the my season/nae era @ 4pm Scarborough North, unless it is rainy, cloudy or I find an especially thrilling website with diagrams.
[note to write some fiction asap]