It feels like a privilege when I cycle to the beach on any normal weekday. The wind blows through my hair, warms my legs and gets a grip on my summer dress. Laughing, I push the fabric down. It promises to be hot. At my favorite beach club, the most beautiful spot is still unoccupied. I enjoy my coffee while my toes dig in the still cool sand. Blissfully staring at the diffused morning light above the rolling waves. I stretch. This is enjoyment at its best. I take my book out of my bag and start reading.
By noon, the terrace begins to fill up. A young couple walks up the gangplank. He says something funny, she smiles sweetly at him. He has a well trained body. She has tied her long brown hair in a casual bun with a few pins. The brightly colored Ibiza dress dances happily around her legs.
Two comfortable lounge chairs have become available next to me.
I see him pointing to it. “Come quickly, before they are taken.”
“You sit down already. I’ll be right there. Cynthia is standing over there. Let’s chat.”
I see him looking in the direction she’s pointing. He wants to stop her, but she’s already gone. He follows her with his eyes as he takes his seat.
A sturdy guy with a prominent beer belly looks around searchingly. All spots are occupied. “Can I sit here?” He points to the free lounge chair.
“My girlfriend will be right back.”
“Oh, I’ll be gone in a minute. Pretty busy, isn’t it”, says the beer belly as he plops down in the chair.
“Probably because Pentecost is coming,” says the sporty man absently.
I follow the scene out of the corner of my eye and prick up my ears so as not to miss anything. There’s something in the air. I feel it.
“Oh Pentecost… is that after Easter? I can never tell that shit apart. Do you ever go to Pinkpop, or is it Paaspop?” The folds of fat in his belly wave back and forth as he laughs at his own lame joke.
The other looks irritated at the beer belly.
“Not fun?” He gets no answer. “Hey! are we still being served here?’ His voice echoes across the terrace. He waves at the waitress with his blubber arms. “Hey honey, two coffees here.”
The beer belly grabs his phone. “Just call my buddy and give me instructions. That dormer window has to go in this weekend.”
Nervously, I see the gym guy looking in the direction his girlfriend has disappeared. He looks at his watch and then straight ahead.
In the distance, the girlfriend comes running with big frantic steps. Her Ibiza dress flutters agitated around her legs. Looking like a thunderstorm, she puts her arms on her sides and stands right in front of him. Her bosom is panting up and down. In order to get up, he has to lean back slightly. With her face a few inches away, she slams the words into his face. “Cynthia God damn it, how do you get it, motherfucker. You can have her, the bitch. With a bow around it, the slut.” She lashes out with a flat hand.
Her bare feet bang on the wooden gangway as she stomps away. She screams over her shoulder, totally unnecessary. “It is over!”
The friend who is suddenly no longer a friend slumps back in his chair and rubs his cheek. The corner of his mouth twitches nervously.
The beer belly leans over to him and pats his hand. “Would you like a beer?”