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Just Chill

Is there anything more glorious than taking in a shoreline sunset by sea? Island Girl and I are on a boat courtesy of a very nice guy who offers us an impromptu ride. I swear the best things happen when you don’t make plans. I hadn’t planned to go out at all. I certainly hadn’t planned to be on a boat. But here I am gazing at a salmon-colored sky as we slip lightly through the water.

Before this we’re at Salty’s enjoying some fried goodies. There I’m subjected to the what’s-your-situation interrogation by a man with a shaved head and Planet Fitness muscles.

It doesn’t take him long to get started. He asks my name and then immediately after, “What’s your situation?”

Ugh. This is over before it even begins. We’ve been talking for 15 seconds and he’s already snuffing out my situation like a police dog searching for drugs in airport baggage claim.

“Well,” I say. “I’m sitting outside on a gorgeous summer evening with my friends. That’s my situation. I think it’s a really good one.”

“Okay, yeah but. . . what’s your situation? You single? Married? What?”

This guy likes to jump into the pool without checking the depth first. I’m game, though. So I tell the truth.

“I’m single.”

“Really? Me too!”

“I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Really?”

I take a large slug of beer. Of course I would have guessed.

“See? Here’s where I’m at. I’m single but I kinda wanna...you know?” he says.

“No.”

“I wanna...you know? Get with someone? Hang out? Chill? Chill with someone, you know?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

I’m giving this guy a hard time. It’s the way he’s saying chill.

“You know. . . chill. Just hang out, relax. You like that, too?”

“I don’t remember.”

He looks a little confused but presses on. “So whaddaya do? You’re very attractive, by the way. Whaddaya do?”

“I’m a yak herder,” I reply.

Here I go with the absurd lies. It’s a bad habit, but I can’t help it. When a conversation with a stranger goes down an absurd road, I sometimes still feel like I have to kick it up a notch. I’m always curious about the reaction I’ll get. Will the guy swallow the lie and laugh when he realizes, almost inevitably, that it’s a lie? Or will he simply not catch on? I always wonder what will happen when I throw a real whopper onto the end of my line.

“No way? Really?” the guy asks.

“My father has a yak farm in Killingworth,” I continue. (After all, if you’re going to have yak farm, where would it be? Killingworth seems like a good choice.) “I help...with the yaks.”

“Seriously?” the guy asks.

Hmmmm...not catching on.

“Yah! Seriously!” I respond.

“Killingworth?”

“Yup.”

Not catching on. At all.

“Where in Killingworth?”

Really? I can’t go on like this. I start to crack up laughing. “I don’t. I mean, I never have. I mean, I’m not a yak herder.”

Light bulb. “Ohhhh, you’re joking! Oh, okay. So, you’re single. I am, too. Had a break-up a month ago. Now I’m ready to...you know, chill with someone. You have a break up?”

“Yup.”

“When was your breakup?”

“Three hours ago.”

“What? Seriously?”

“No.”

“You’re pulling my leg again. You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Island Girl says our friend will bring us in his boat to our next stop. So I make my escape. I don’t tell The Big Chill where we’re going. He needs someone who isn’t compelled to lie to him.

So there we are, three by sea, watching a tangerine sun melt into blue-green water as it sets. We hit our next stop, hang out with friends, and then make our way back.

There’s nothing more glorious than taking in a shoreline sunset by sea...except taking in a shoreline night by sea. Nobody talks. The stars look like they’re floating, bobbing in the pitch-dark. It’s cold and clear and it feels like we’re speeding along on blades of black ice.

Now that’s the way to chill.

Juliana Gribbins is a writer who believes that absurdity is the spice of life. Her book Date Expectations is winner of the 2016 IPPY silver medal for humor. Write to her at jeepgribbs@hotmail.com.