Do you know where you're going?

So today I was following my sister Sally back to her boyfriend's apartment (he wasn't there), to hang out after we had lunch. She goes there every week and it's not hard to get to, though I've only been there a few times. Anyway, I'm following her and I sort of remember that once we get to a certain place, I know where I'm going. However, as I'm following Sally's Toyota Corolla, I notice that she drives right by the road I thought it was on. Thinking that I was just crazy, I continue to follow her, because she should know where it is more than I should. We drive an extra five minutes and she turns around. When we finally get there, she says that she "doesn't know what happened" and "she must have been daydreaming", but in all honesty, I have no idea how she could not find her way to a place she has been going for a very long time. I feel like it would only be okay if she was having some sort of seizure. Or she saw a unicorn frolicking in the fields. Or if she saw Robert Pattinson riding on a unicorn frolicking i the fields. But none of these things happened. She just had no idea where the Hell she was.

She blamed it on the two glasses of wine she had with dinner, which I would agree with, seeing as how she weighs about ninety pounds, but I'm still suspicious.

Last night I was discussing Martha's Vineyard with my boyfriend Linus. I've named him Linus only because he refuses to watch Paranormal Activity with me, which makes me think of him carrying a blanket everywhere because he is a bit of a sissy. ANYWAY. I was talking about interesting stories that happened in the past six (?) years that we have been vacationing there. There have been a lot of crazy stories (some including underage root beer buying, searching for my drunk sister who went off with a sailor, dealing with my mother crying at midnight on her fiftieth birthday, having captain crunch and coronas for dinner every night). The list goes on and on. However, it did make me realize how much I've missed going there this past summer. I would have to say these were the highlights, and I am not sensoring them at all.

You can see who the goofsters are in this picture.

Honestly, have they met us?

I have also never heard of sunscreen apparently.


I guess the favorite story of summers at the Martha's Vineyard house has been the root beer story. Now, I'm aware that people that work in the summer at the Vineyard don't always speak English, or if they do, they don't speak it WELL. However, if you are working at a corner market, you should know your shit. Just sayin.

This was the summer I was nineteen or twenty, I'm not sure. Either way, I was underage. Right down the street from our house is a corner market, which pretty much sells everything. So one day, all by my lonesome, I go and decide to SPLURGE on some glass bottle root beers and cream sodas.

I mean, how could you not? Any drink that comes in a glass bottle is automatically cool. Yoo Hoo's anyone?!

ANYWAY. I'm so excited to buy these sodas that I'm actually envisioning myself once I get back to the house. I'll go and put my feet up on the back deck and look out at the harbor, and I'll take a sip and say something like: "Ahh. Yum. And to think, I could have had a bland, old Diet Pepsi! In...a...CAN!" So I bring my glass sodas up to the counter and the woman that was working was obviously not from around here, although I'm not one to judge. (haha.)

So she asks me if these are non alcoholic. I giggle a little bit, thinking she's kidding, and then I say "yes." Because anybody who is anybody knows that a bottle that says "Diet Root Beer" is in fact non alcoholic. Some would even call it "soda". But let's not get too crazy.

She then asks for my license, which I pull out but right before I give it to her, I sense something is wrong. 1) why in hell's name am I giving you my license? and 2) when you see my license, it will in fact tell you I'm underage. And I know this. But what does it matter? I am buying root beer.

I then feel like it's time to break the awful news to this woman that I am not trying to buy beer. I am just an innocent little girl trying to have a good time with some soda. What does she say?

"You still have to be twenty-one to buy non alcoholic beer."

Alright. So. After numerous failed attempts to tell this poor retarded retard that "this. is. SODA." She points to the word "beer" on the bottle. I do not know what to do. I eventually let it go, as I am not one for confrontation. And for the fact that there are customers behind me and I am quite embarrassed.

To make a long story short, I could not buy soda that day at the Vineyard. Now THAT'S when you know you look YOUNG! But in all seriousness, they should consider hiring people who did not come to this country on a floating door. I not seen this woman in the store since then, but if I did, I would take a real bottle of beer (because I CAN now) and I would point to the word "beer" and chug it in her face. Then I would tell her to "learn some goddamn english". Or something along those lines.

Anyway.

-Jenny.