I chatted with my mom at lunch. Had some Ellio’s pizza. Ellio’s is the first pizza I ever tasted. I was a very picky eater since I was a child. I didn’t even try pizza until I was 12 or 13. But Ellio’s was a frozen pizza you could buy in the store. It came in a box with three frozen slabs (three rectangles each. Nine slices.) I could normally crush a single slab at 17. I didn’t like trying new things but I was introduced to ‘pizza flavor’ through Pepperidge Farms ‘pizza flavored’ goldfish crackers.
As my taste buds matured during puberty, pizza flavor seemed amazing. So I tried Ellio’s frozen pizza and immediately loved it. It’s total shit now, but back then it was actually really good. (See: Thanksgiving Ritual)
But Sam’s Pizza at 26th and the Boardwalk was still the God of Pizza in Wildwood. There is no other slice that can compete. Fuck Mack’s Pizza.
I felt calm. That was always a welcoming feeling because most of the time I was nervous and fearful in general. I told my mom I was headed to the beach for a bit. Life was so simple and beautiful back then. I wish I could have enjoyed it more.
But as I write this now, I think I did.
I was off today, and it was another perfect day in North Wildwood by the Sea. Sunny and a good beach day.
I grabbed my cigs, lighter, big blanket, a towel and a beach chair. I stuffed it all into the chair so I only had one thing to carry. Cigs were in the waistband of my bathing trunks and matches/lighter were either in the pack or tucked into the cellophane that encased the box. I’m wearing my Aerosmith T-shirt for no other reason but that I love that band with all of my heart.
I also brought my Polaroid One Shot Camera with me. (Google it kids!)
I walk over to 9th street towards Lola’s house.
Lola’s already sitting on the porch and ready to go. I like that. She looks sweet. She’s wearing a long T-shirt so it covers her like a shitty cotton mumu. I don’t care. I’m just happy she’s here.
“I see you’re ready to go.”
“Been waiting for hours. Where’ve you been?” She giggles and grabs her towel off the chair next to her and we’re off to the beach.
It’s not terribly hot and we chat as we make our way through the trail that leads to the open beach.
It’s a lovely August afternoon. Maybe one of the last great days of summer. The beach is filled with people and the smell of coppertone and solarcaine. I can hear the phillies game on several radios around me so it feels like some sort of beach stereo experience.
The extremely tanned ice cream man is making his way down the beach. He’s dressed all in white. His hair tawny from the summer sun. His legs are strong from marching up and down the beach for two months selling fudgicles, orange creamcicles and cherry ice. He carries on his back a small ice box loaded with treats and dry ice.
He calls out to anyone that’ll listen or the thirsty child that he has a box of treats for them.
“Ice cream! Cherry Ice! Fudgicle!”
The single propeller planes roll by in the sky over the Atlantic Ocean pulling long signs behind them that your best bet for dinner tonight is at Urie’s Fish Fry at 588 West Rio Grande Avenue.
Mom’s are putting lotion on their kids. Dads are laughing and talking about sports. Families are together and enjoying the summer sun. Happy to be away from the heat of the city. It’s always cooler at the shore and nice to escape the oppressive humidity of the heat in Philly.
Teens play frisbee and splash each other in the water. It’s a perfect day in the paradise I have been blessed to live in thanks to my father’s strategic moves to bring THE QUINTESSENTIAL SUMMER EXPERIENCE he had but sort of never had.
In this moment at age seventeen, I’m Wildwood royalty and I don’t even know it. I’ve lived in a house a block and a half from the beach in North Wildwood every summer for the last decade. All thanks to my father. I know sometimes I talk shit on my dad in this blog, but the guy was fucking magic whan it came to summer and christmas. (Not in that order!)
So here I am with Lola. Like everybody, we stake out our little piece of real estate on the beach and spread out my course blue blanket. I liked it because it could house several people and sand couldn’t penetrate the material. That’s key at the beach. Sand is your enemy. Chafing. Grit. Irritation. And other things…..
But sand is soft. It can get so hot that you will have to run to the beach and literally throw your towel ahead of you so you have a place to stand to rest. (We used to do this all of the time!)
But today the sand is soft under our feet. It’s warm and yields to our every step.
We lay out the big blue blanket and place it down like every other person on this beach. I drop my cigs and lighter and open the beach chair. I brought it because it holds all of my stuff in it and maybe Lola wants to chill in a chair and not be forced to sit on a blanket the whole time. I don’t know, so I just went with as many options as possible for her because this is all new territory.
She’s happy to sit on the blanket and I drop it in the chair. We’re chatting and I think we’re both starting to feel the August heat. Not in a sexual way that I know of, It’s just a really hot day.
“Wanna go in the ocean?”
“I think I need it at this point, Chaz.”
Lola takes off her big T-shirt. She’s wearing a brown one piece. The cool thing I realize in this moment is being at the beach with girls is that you get to see them strip down to basically underwear and it’s totally cool. It’s the only time in your young life that you get to see girls basically go down to a bra and panties right in front of a boy and it’s totally normal. But unknown to them in that moment it’s an explosively erotic experience.
This has happened to me over and over on this very beach. But it never comes to a fiery light until you hit puberty.
Everybody’s always stripping off their clothes on a regular basis everyday on the beach. It’s just what you all do to get some sun and go swimming.
But you reach a certain age and everything changes.
Anne pulls off her T-Shirt.
She’s beautiful in the late summer sun.
I look upon her. Lovely face, dark hair and warm brown eyes.
She’s wearing a brown one piece. It’s cut low in the front that showcases her ample breasts. There’s no back in this suit. It’s cut high on her thighs. Her legs, even though she’s short, are shapely and full in all of the right places. She’s absolutely gorgeous.
Her brown skin, tanned from the season glows in the late August sun. Like me she’s a little sad she’ll soon have to go back to Newark, NJ.
But I have this moment. I have today on this beach.
This is the sandy stage where I may have a sweet moment with this lovely girl who came to me in my favorite arcade.
“Let’s go in the water.”
“Yea. It’s hot.”
I walk to the edge of the sea with this new girl. She seems so nice and I feel no anxiety.
We jump into the waves. I love the force of the ocean even though I don’t like heights or deep water. But it feels nice with Lola.
The beach is full of tourists, but as we sink into the warm ocean, it’s just the two of us in this moment.
We’re swimming around and it feels so good. Anne is really sweet and we’re laughing and joking with each other. She looks beautiful.
She swims over to me and puts her arms around me. She’s lovely and wet. Her hair a tangle of curls. Her dark eyes sparkle in the late afternoon light. She glides into my lap. I cradle her. We’re in the ocean so she’s just sort of floating in my lap. She’s so close. I’m holding her in my arms now. I run my hands along her soft smooth thighs.
Lola’s lips her plump and salty. But so sweet against mine.
Our tongues swirl together.
She was like a luscious mermaid. I kissed her deeply as the waves washed around us as young lovers. Lola’s breasts are overwhelming and they are all around me as a teenage boy. It’s too much but just right in a three bears kind of way. It’s really nice to gently hold her.
It was one of the perfect moments in my life.
I’ve had many, but this was one of the first ones and they mean so much. They mark you so deeply.
We just floated in the sea kissing and cuddling and caressing. It was almost spiritual.
I fell in love with sweet Lola in that moment.
In 4 hours I’ll publish Part 3!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
Instagram: @phicklephilly Facebook: phicklephilly