The Game

TY

Beep, beep, beep. My arm comes out from under the covers and smacks the alarm clock. I throw the covers off and jump out. I start to do small stretches. Then I hear noises coming from the living room.

I look at my clock and it’s 5:45 in the morning. I drag my ass into the bathroom and put on a pair of shorts. I walk out to see Alan still playing Xbox from last night.

I look down on the floor next to his chair and see a case of Mountain Dew. Most of the empties are stacked up against the wall. On the other side of his chair is a box of Depends with a trash can.

I look at him with a little confusion.

“I thought you said you were leaving after you finished the campaign. Does your girlfriend know you stayed all night? And what the hell are you doing with a box of Depends?”

“Hey, morning, bro. Like, me and the fellows decided to do a 24-hour Call of Duty campaign at the last minute. So I went and got some Dew and Depends.

“With a 24-hour campaign, we don’t have time to go to the bathroom, so we wear adult diapers,” he says as he gets up and pulls a tray of pizza rolls out of the oven. Then he sits back down and continues playing.

“We’re playing against another squad who’ve played this a dozen times. So we’re trying to dethrone them. Flank right, flank right. I got your six,” he says to another player.

“I’ve got to find me some new friends,” I say as I walk away and find my shoes. I throw them on and make my way out to the beach to go for a run.

Today is a perfect day for a run on the beach. It’s a nice seventy degrees outside with the sun just starting to come up over the horizon.

The waves are breaking a little high on the beach because high tide is almost over. I don’t want to get my shoes wet, so I run in the loose sand.

Watching the sun rise is breathtaking; it almost takes a spiritual look into things. Makes the day so much easier to deal with when you wake up to this every morning.

Normally I run between five and six miles a day on the beach. But today, seeing Alan wearing Depends and nothing else just ruined my morning. So I decide to run an even ten miles.

I go back to my apartment and open the door. I walk in and there he stands, naked, changing into another pair of diapers. I roll my eyes as I walk into my bedroom. A shower seems fitting right about now.

I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Then I peel off my shorts and jump in the water. I stand under the water for a few minutes trying to get that image out of my head.

Moments later I get out, grab a towel, and dry off. I grab my phone and step out on the balcony and take a seat. I look at my phone and see I have two text messages and fifteen emails. I click on the texts first.

I click on the second message.

Then I swipe left to my emails. “Delete, delete, delete,” I mutter out loud. “Wait a minute, what’s this?” I open the email and it says, ‘For Love or Money.’ I look to see who sent it.

I see that it came from my aunt who forwarded it to my mother who forwarded it to me. “God she needs to leave me alone. I’ll find someone when I’m ready,” I say out loud.

“Is everything all right down there?” a voice from above says.

“Yes, Mrs. Pinette,” I say, looking up.

“Is there something I can do for you?” she says with a little sexiness in her voice.

“Yeah, tell my mother to leave me alone about finding another girl.”

“Give me her number and I’ll be sure to give her a ring,” she says.

“I was kidding, Mrs. Pinette.”

“Please, how many times have I told you to call me Marsha?”

“A lot,” I say, laughing.

Marsha Pinette is a married woman who tells others she’s a widow. Her husband, who is very much alive, is never home and is always on the beach looking for the big score with his metal detector.

One time she came to my apartment wearing a see-through sundress with nothing else on holding a bag of popcorn in one hand and two DVD movies in the other.

Don’t get me wrong, Marsha is a beautiful fifty-five-year-old with fake tits and barely any tan lines. She’s been cited several times by the county for sunbathing in the nude on the beach.

Marsha has been trying to get me to sleep with her since I moved in about a year ago. She thinks that one, it will make her feel young again, or two, maybe her husband will finally leave her for cheating.

I don’t plan on doing that any time soon.

I look at the email again and click on the link. My eyes get big when I see it’s a dating site that is doing a challenge. I right-click the website to save for another time. I would like to look at this later.

***

I make it to work an hour early. As I walk in, I can see a bunch of kids looking at all the surfboards.

“Hey, thanks for coming in an hour early. They weren’t supposed to be until noon,” Mike says to me.

“Not a problem, what do we got?”

“We got ten kids. Seven boys and three girls, all around twelve and fourteen years old.”

“Ten?” I say with a skeptical look.

“Yeah, ten kids,” Mike says back.

“I can barely show five how to surf, let alone keep my eyes on ten. You got to give me somebody to help me watch them,” I say.

“You’re right. Take Stewie with you,” Mike says as I give him two thumbs up and walk away.

As I start helping all the kids with the right board and leashes, Stewie comes around the corner with the quad-runner towing the board trailer.

I start to load all the boards onto the trailer as Stewie gets all the kids towels and their snacks for the beach.

“Everybody ready?” I ask them as they all cheer with excitement. “Okay, follow Stewie to the beach and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

“Everybody, follow me,” Stewie says.

I could be having the worst day in my life, but if I can make one kid smile, it makes up for everything that could happen.

***

By the end of the day I’m beat. Don’t get me wrong, I love to teach. But talking all day and getting beat up by the waves can take a toll on you.

I jump in the shower to wash off all the saltwater. When I’m done, I dry off, go in the kitchen, and grab a six-pack. I pick up my computer and take a seat out on the balcony.

I twist off the cap and take a drink. Then I pull up the email my mother sent me. I try to look over the application to find something wrong with it to make sure it’s legit.

After reading the rules, I don’t want to find love in my area. I feel like this part of Florida is tapped out. Anybody I do meet is a tourist or from out of town.

Dating someone from another state is hard. I don’t like driving to Orlando, most of my friends like to look for dates there.

Looking for love is hard. Everybody always says love will come to you or it will fall on your lap.

I decide I want to try the challenges, so I fill out the application.

Age: 26

Height: 6ft 1in

Hair: brown

Eyes: hazel

Weight: 210

Size: (optional) B-cup. I laugh at myself.

Hobbies: Loves to run on the beach. Loves to teach children to surf. Crowd watching. Staying in shape.

Turn on: The smile of a beautiful woman. Sense of humor and a great kisser.

Turn off: Bad jokes. People who think they’re entitled. Lying to get what they want. Fake people.

I finish with the application, upload my pictures, and notice something. It’s Marsha walking toward the ocean, taking off her sundress, and diving in the water naked.

I shake my head and open another beer.