Last week's Spring Break was amazing. Like much of U.Va., I too went to a beach. Of course Rehobeth Beach may not be as "classy" or "clean" as other places, but has its own "special" qualities. In fact, after just one day, I felt as if Rehobeth and I were soulmates. So I present to you the Rehobeth Rundown:
Point of trip: chauffeur sister to scholarship interview. We arrive at 7 a.m. Her weekend activities begin at 10 a.m. We sneak into the meeting room and mingle with the Delaware Dental Society. We laugh at a joke a silly old man makes about floss and we eat the fruit at their breakfast buffet table. We are caught by the scholarship selection committee. I leave my sister to fend for herself.
My friend and I take a nap in my car. We awaken when campus security knocks on the window and asks us to leave. I angrily refer to the state as DelaSTINK.
We stop a man walking his dog and ask him about fun things to do in Delaware. He seems confused by the word "fun." He then directs us to Rehobeth Beach.
On the way to Rehobeth, I pull over to pose for pictures with a giant bale of hay. I have only seen them in cartoons and illustrations. It is like finding a saber-toothed tiger. The farmer is not happy with my trespassing and insists I leave. When I take too long, he tries to run me down with his tractor. Fortunately, my car has excellent pickup. Two minutes later, he is eating my dust.
As we get closer to Rehobeth Beach, we see the outlets. Puma is having a 50-percent, "all women's apparel" sale. Of course we stop. I try on everything in the store. At the same time. Layer on top of layer. I am given an extra 10 percent off if I agree to leave the store. We go next door to Ralph Lauren Polo. I hold up two pink shirts and ask some lady which color brings out my eyes -- salmon or magnolia. Before she can answer, I tell her that pink supports anti-feminist causes and perpetuates stereotypes. She asks if I am "one of those people from PETA."
Finally, we leave the outlets. We follow signs to Rehobeth Beach's boardwalk, but we cannot find parking. It is conveniently out of season for Rehobeth, so I park my car in someone's front yard. If a policeman tries to ticket me, I will pretend I am a tourist from Asia who does not speak English.
We go to the beach. My friend insists the water is warm. I do not know better. I run into an oncoming wave and ultimately run out of the ocean looking like I wet myself. A little part of me dies on the inside.
After drying off and getting back in the car, we go to Le Gourmet Chef, a classy food store. Taking turns distracting the employees, my friend and I eat all the samples. I use words and phrases I learned from Food Network. Words like "broil" and "artichoke." I feel guilty because the woman who is guarding the Chai tea sample is older than the Rotunda and I tricked her into thinking I was a set of triplets. I buy a jar of "artichoke" tapanade to make myself feel better. "Artichokes" artiSTINK.
Jake's Seafood is the only seafood restaurant open. We visit and flirt with the owner, who is named Billy and not Jake. Our waiter does not like us because we ask a lot of questions. Like, "Who is Jake?" and "Why does your face look like that?" Billy thinks we are cute. He gives us T-shirts for his restaurant. Men's XL. It is because I told him I am the hot dog-eating champion of the South.
My day in Rehobeth was amazing. I felt right at home. Rehobeth really did bring out the best in me. So next year, while everyone else is off in the Bahamas or Mexico or Florida, I'll be where my heart is: my soulmate, Rehobeth.
Winnie's column runs biweekly on Thursdays. She may be reached at winnie@cavalierdaily.com.
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