What I won't be doing tomorrow: going out to the Siren Fest at Coney Island. I used to really like going out to Coney for the Mermaid Parade. Coming out of the subway and smelling hot dogs, sea water, and dirty bathrooms all at once. Getting raging drunk on cheap beer in the hot sun, watching the freak parade of mer-maids, men, children, and dogs. Cheering on the bad bands, oohing at the classic cars, getting sunburned. Then after the parade you run into the not-so-clean beach water up to your knees and let the waves lap at your shorts. Afterwards means drinks at Ruby's and Cheez fries at Nathans for a booze mop. Then you take a spin on the Eldorado bumper cars with the blaring recording urging you to 'bump, bump, bump your ass off' in a think Nu Yawk drone. And before you leave you have to take at least one ride on the Cyclone. The clueless line up for the front seats while those in-the-know head for the last car, knowing the back seat gives you the most violent ride. It's a better idea to ride drunk because you're more relaxed and remain relatively uninjured, except for some whopping bruises. But now that I'm older, none of this seems as fun. Maybe it's the thought of being stuck with twenty-year old versions of myself and friends acting like it's the first time they ever drank during the daytime. Maybe it's the doorless bathrooms without any toilet paper. Maybe I can't drink like I used to. Whatever. If anyone needs me tomorrow, I'll be sprawled out on the couch reading the latest Harry Potter.
Here's a mermaid: