Why I’ll Never Eat Pretzels on the Beach Again
I’ve lived on the beach for three years. I should know better.
Saturday was the greatest South Jersey beach day of the entire summer. I made an effort to turn off my TV, grab a good book, put on the sunblock, and walk my skinny lazy butt to the beach. Oh, and I also brought my half-pound bag of pretzels.
After about three hours of frying and burning, my Girlfriend and I decided to walk back to my house and order lunch. We left our towels and chairs on the beach because, well, I’m lazy. Once we got to my house, we decided to watch a few episodes of ‘The Killing’ on Netflix. That show is so awesome, that we ended up binge watching for about three hours.
We slowly got up from my couch and dragged ourselves back outside for another round of frying and burning. As we walked closer to our stuff, I noticed a concert crowd of seagulls were waiting for me. I also noticed several different piles of pretzels lying around, and no bag to be found.
I forgot my half-pound bag of pretzels. The rats of the skies devoured most of it. How they can fit so many pretzels in their little stomachs is beyond me. Everybody in the general vicinity had either left, or hated me. A couple behind us said, ‘The seagulls took your pretzels!’ Thanks a lot Merrill Reese, now start doing play-by-play of me burying left over pretzels and chasing the dirty birds away.
Have you forgotten something that ended up biting you back in the butt? Feel free to comment below. I’m so glad the seagulls didn’t bite me!