There he was, driving with his windows open just like the day before and week before and every month before that. The beach called to him, and its the only place he felt like he could actually bring his dog.
He was thirty, and most of his life was spent just letting life pass him by.
He thought to himself he was like a jelly fish, but with a tan.
The tide goes out he goes out too, the tide comes in...
Except for after work, he'd get home and just grab the dog. He sat as co-pilot and they'd belt out what ever was on 102.5.
But does she really wanna
But can't stand to see my walking out that door.
Don't try to fight this feeling
cuz the thought alone is killing me right now.
Pretending he was hitting on attractive woman at every stop light.
He was a regular at the beach walk. And he saw the regulars. That old lady that walked a mile every day no matter what. That guy with like 7 dogs who never pooped. Or that other girl who also skated sometimes. They'd all greet him in different ways.
Davey!
There he is Dave!
Daveeey, hows the dog? He's soo cute!
This time of day he always would catch the sun setting, and would eventually be alone. And its not like that book that lists all those happy things, and he would never make a list like that. But if he were too this would be on it.
A dog and this sunset and his spot.
