The blue one

Now I'm second guessing myself like crazy.

Should I have just settled for insanity, like most of my Covid-fearing friends are doing?

Between the rough waves, the flies, the sunburn, the hot tub filled with neglected kids, the bath towels that could double as face masks, the bathroom that not only doesn't have a bidet, it has no drinking glasses, is it really worth exposing ourselves to all of this?

Probably??? I guess so??

We decided to venture out to North Wildwood tonight, as the menu  at our chosen restaurant looked so good.  Jim dropped me off and sought parking, but I walked and walked and walked and walked until my sciatica practically screamed at me, "stop walking, you masochist!" and then I realized that Jim dropped me off right in front of the restaurant in the first place.

We were craving what we saw on the on-line menu, knowing the twenty minute drive would be worth it.

It was a sandwich shop.

Jim practically begged me not to go all Karen on him.  He made a good choice based on the info he had at the time..but it was a sandwich shop that faced an enormous kiosk that sold nothing but Trump banners, sweatshirts, hats, and propaganda.

I did NOT want Jim to think I was mad.  I wasn't.  I was too worried about the diseases I got in the hot tub to be mad.

I asked for specials, and yet another constantly smiling waitress said, "well..technically..Happy Hour IS over, but because your husband was seated before you found your way, I guess we can still offer the Happy Hour discounts and knock off a buck or two from your order..what kind of beer are we having?"

"We are not having beer..we just want to know what kind of specials you have as far as ENTREES."

She finally got it and didn't even know what my name is.  I got the mediocre skirt steak that was accompanied by spinach that tasted like it was spritzed with Channel #5, but Jim curiously liked it.

We then drove into "town"..to Stone Harbor, to check out the number one ice cream shop in the county, Springers, around since "Prohibition"

(Does that mean nobody could order the rum raisin?)

Talk about pressure! 

The line was very long, but most people wore masks and were distanced.  You could not see the list of flavors.  Not until about five seconds before you were summoned by a guy with a clipboard who obviously assumed everyone had been there before, and knew how to scan the list of flavors on their phone apps, and had no patience for Springer virgins.

So I panicked and ordered a color, "Blue."  Not a flavor, but a color--something called "The Blue One."

It  was actually quite good, it  tasted like a Smurf with broken Oreos, but it would have been nice to make a decision based on research.

Again, I am lucky that I'm a gambler in the first place, be it on an unknown ice cream color or a decision to come to a sleepy seaside town, where even under normal circumstances the night scene might mean  little more than  taking a walk into town for a slice of pizza.  Or driving for some mini golf.

If I stay healthy(assuming I was EVER  healthy) then I guess this little lark was worth it. 

 It got me out of my Covid-prison and gave me some relief from the crippling feeling of isolation that this virus has caused so many of us to feel.