Sarah and the thing 2,000 She found it on the beach. (standard:Satire, 1983 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 09 2020	Views/Reads: 1232/840	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This story is loosely based on the old song named "The Thing." I remember it was sung by a popular entertainer, at that time, named "Arthur Godfrey." Nuff said.

It was her college vacation and Sarah was visiting Honolulu. The young
woman had always wanted to go to Hawaii and had talked her father into 
paying for the trip as her birthday present.  Unfortunately, the rest 
of her family couldn't go.  Better than nothing, she thought, and she 
did want to prove her independence.  After all, she was all of 
eighteen-years-old. 

The hotel on Waikiki beach was plush and comfortable. Sarah had three
weeks but, near the end of the first, she was already bored.  The hotel 
happened to be filled with mostly old people and families with young 
kids.  She had expected at least a few people her own age. You could 
only wander along the beach for so long alone before you became numb. 

On top of that, it had rained every day so far -- that being the rainy
season for the islands and probably the reason her father caught such a 
good deal on the price. 

There she was, well into her dream vacation, reduced to sitting on a
lanai while watching the rain pour down.  It was depressing.  Some 
vacation.  She was picturing schoolmates living it up in Acapulco. 

“Well, I guess I better see about lunch. At least I won't get wet doing
that.”  She looked at her watch briefly. “Damn, and this is the rush 
hour in the cafeteria,” she muttered to the silent room. 

*** 

Like she had thought, the place was packed, with most of the tables and
booths either overflowing with howling kids or almost filled with old 
farts. There was one table that only held one old man who looked to be 
almost finished.  He was eating dessert.  Sarah considered going back 
to her room to wait but, what the hell, she went to that one table -- 
which changed her young life. 

She sat down to wait for a waitress. 

The old man glanced up from the scattered remains of a spaghetti meal. 

Oh, no, she thought, Sarah hated spaghetti and meatballs. Her aunt
served it every time she visited, and it was probably the meal she 
would get -- included in the travel package. Maybe she should pay for a 
hamburger and fries, but she only had a limited amount of cash to last 
her another two weeks.  Well, she decided to let it go and accept 
snotty red  noodles with garlic.  The day was turning out as lousy as 
she'd anticipated. 

Sure enough, she was served spaghetti.  On top of it all, the old man
was attempting to talk to her. She had judged him about finished.  He 
was, with his meal.  But he ordered a large pot of coffee and wanted to 
talk.  The last thing she felt like was talk and advice from some 
ancient fart. 

“How do you like the place?  I come here every year.” The man smiled. 

“Okay, I guess.  Just not very exciting is all.” 

“Oh, I would think a pretty girl like you would find plenty to do?” 

“Hah! The only good-looking boys I've seen here want Me to pay for Their
time.” 

She fiddled around with her fork, surprised she had even answered him.
Probably just don't want to face eating this crap, she decided. 

“What about the hotel hula show, you didn't like that?” 

“It was alright, but I could have seen it on television at home.” 

For some reason, maybe the way he smiled, she was finding the man easy
to talk to. It might be because of spending all that time alone in her 
room in the rain. 

“This was supposed to be my dream trip.  Last week was my eighteenth
birthday.” She was surprised that she said that to a stranger. 



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