Personal Narrative: A Day At Mission Beach

Almost within minutes it seemed he had arrived at Mission Beach. The sun was pretty much sky high on this early September day. He stood for a while gazing in the direction of the sand and sea. His hands were calmly by his sides. Noticing that the sun was too bright for his eyes, he slowly, with coolness about him, slid his sunglasses down from atop his head to the level of his eyes. The sunglasses were black and of a surfer brand style. Johnny could now see the details of what was happening upon the beach without squinting his eyes and forehead. This was a beach, he noticed, with diverse persons in attendance. Specifically he noticed an elderly couple walking along the sidewalk of the beach hand-in-hand, and both their hair colors were as white as
The men were shoeless and shirtless with board shorts covering everything above their knees, to just below their navels. One could see each of their natural looking “happy trails” right above the top line of their board shorts. Johnny, without thinking heavy, started toward the recreational volleyball players. When he got too close for comfort, he stopped and just stared at the action of the volleyball game and listened further to the dialect of the men going back and forth at each other. It was after a few moments that he realized why he was drawn to the men. They were speaking the dialect that which was from his home state. The South! Johnny was almost in shock at this realization, but he quickly realized he was still in the United States, not Europe! Meaning, it’s not uncommon for U.S. citizens to move around within the mainland. Within a few minutes of Johnny being a spectator of the men and their volleyball game, the men stopped their game for a break to rest. One of the four men eventually noticed Johnny watching them, and then invited him over to fraternize. Johnny obliged this man’s verbal offer and joined the