LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Lewes Lips |
by Guest Columnist Rich Kraus |
On Labor Day weekend, the regular Lewes Lips authors were so busy entertaining that they gladly accepted my offer to act as guest columnist. Besides, they thought that a Single Guy like me might provide a unique perspective on Lewes activities. The summer heat returned that weekend in Lewes, and so did I. OK, some of my single friends say it doesn't take much to be considered "hot" in Lewes. Singles may also think of Lewes as a too-quiet town, full of "tired old married couples." Lots of couples seem to reside there, it's true. But my adventures clued me in as to why they are so tired! Shaking off a short work week in DC with a relaxing 2-hour drive to Lewes was just what I needed. With me in the car was the best co-pilot cheap canned beer can buyAl Salas. Al's advice on driving was a blessingthough perhaps a mixed one: "Speed up Rich...all right now, slow down Rich. OK speed up again...Traffic looks heavy on 404, let's take this country road..." I arrived slightly disoriented, but safely, by 10 p.m., which guaranteed that I'd have time to primp and douche before seeking some fun for the night. Quickly dropping my bags off at my host's home, we were back in the car and then to Rehoboth for a Wednesday night out. Lewes is charming, but, as a Single Guy, I needed to mark my territory in singles-oriented Rehoboth earlybefore the Labor Day weekend competition descended. I won't detail too much about time spent at the Blue Moon on Wednesday night. Both Al and I ran into old tricks. I mean boyfriends. No wait, I'll be fair. In Al's case, it was a boyfriend from his twenties (back when Al was a serial monogamist). In my case, it was a former trick, who was also my one brush with celebrity. Shortly after our night together years ago, this sexy but strident and soon-to-be notorious political author helped bring Paula Jones to prominence. (My friends claim there's a link: From me to trailer trash... But at least my roots are blond.) I remembered vividly that night we spent together. He was closeted and inexperienced at the time, and, at first shy. But all reticence dropped as quickly as he dropped his clothes. Still, politics notwithstanding (opposites DO attract), I would never stir up that old soup again. This man, who also dissed Anita Hill at length in a book, would never again find any hairs of MINE near his proverbial can of coke... And, anyway, I suspect that, when he thinks of me, all that comes to his mind is "What's that guy's name?" Or, maybe, pointing at me, he says, with passion, "I did NOT sleep with that woman!" (Hmmm. Maybe I've got my political scandals confused.) Thursday night was intended to be restfuljust a quick visit to the friendly bar at Lewes' Second Street Grille. But it turned into a three-act drama. First act: I spotted my ex-trick again, this time at the Grille. (Maybe the only drama there was in my head.) Second Act: Fortified with martinis and with transportation provided by Ray Holden and Charlie Atwell, we scored at the Double Chiner, Double L. We scored at pool, that is. Third Act: Back in Lewes, to Bill Raney's, for a late-night visit and Tia Marias with his date for the evening. (Orit being Raneydate for the hour?) Friday started with restorative therapy: A steak and cheese from the Lemon Tree, and a chat with owner Lisa McDonald. I asked for some special Vince Ciccolini sauce on the sandwich, but she demurred. Friday evening began with cocktails, with DC real estate lovebirds Mark Gude and Humberto Gonzales and several others, as they scrutinized the lovely home of new Lewes residents Ben Boyd and Eric Fanning. Since Gude hadn't made it to the beach, he was not wearing his traditional beach side moo-moo. Dinner and dancing (and more territory-marking on my part) followed. Saturday: A day of rest? NOT! These "tired old married couples" had me up for brunch, running around the beach all day, then out until the wee hours. Then Sunday included a dinner-party for 30! It was held at Holt Jordan and Cliff Hunter's Milton home, and Cliff and Holt's decor made it feel like a catfish house on the side of the Mississippi. Some danced Sundance after. Following Cliff and Holt's lead, Milton will have two more new couples soon: Partners David Owen and Michael Hunter (A.K.A. ManShack) closed on their home there last week, and partners Todd Bentson and John Roane will likely close on their home there soon. Hearing that, I decided that "Lewes Lips" must surely plan to trade off with a "Milton Mouths" column in Letters from CAMP Rehoboth next year. As I write this on Sunday of Labor Day weekend, I'm warned by the regular authors that it's due soon. It's already been a full weekend of activities, and Labor Day itself has yet to play out. "Tired old married couples?" I need a nap! The following note is from the Lewes Lips authors: LEWES LIPS HAPPY HOURS: The S.S. Minnow at Gilligan's Restaurant was full of CAMP Rehoboth readers for the Happy Hour on September 9. Gilligan's owner Patrick Sheehan provided a multitude of delicious crab appetizers, gratis! (Thanks, Patrick! We'll miss you in the off-season!) A special note to the gals: Mary and Ronnie finally showed by special request, and the rest of you did NOT! You're in BIG trouble, Joan! For the off-season, we'll meet as a group on the first Saturday of every month, and will rotate sites. For the first one, plan to meet on Saturday, October 7 at the Second Street Grille's bar at 7 p.m.. We'll be there and we'll be looking for you! |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 13, Sept. 22, 2000. |