(10 minute read)

Our lives have been incredibly busy over the last several weeks for multiple reasons including but not limited to me working in another office a couple of days a week (including my day off) and Todd working overtime on the convertible rebuild (remember – coyote engine). As such, I carry my day calendar everywhere so I can review what’s coming on a daily basis. We are constantly running things by each other so there’s no overlap.

There’s a reason I need to clarify these things and I’ll get to that in a minute but first – a few weeks ago I mentioned to him after work that I’d like to go up to the restaurant to see my mom on Friday. He said sure, sounds good. Not a half hour later he’s on the phone with Tim discussing GOLFING on Friday at 4:00. At this point I was flipping through a magazine on the opposite couch. My mouth fell open and I started violently flipping the pages. My dear husband, who self-describes as oblivious, said to Tim (who from my observation seemed to be questionable on timing himself), “how about we connect tomorrow and figure out what day works best.”

We recently returned to Ocean City for yet another work conference. This one is a two-day event and culminates in two dinners – The Taste of Maryland and the Crab Feast. I had not been to this one before and so asked the usual questions like when and where and what I needed to be at, as there was a possibility I could connect with Holly while we were there. From what I got from Todd (which may or may not have been 100% accurate) there was little time and so I didn’t plan any time with my oldest friend. I am hereby stating that had I known better, I’d have skipped the dinners and spent the time with her. I regret this.

We arrived on the set-up day at about 9:30 a.m. Made really good time and the ride was uneventful – at least until we passed an enormous truck loaded with hundreds of chickens and the last one I saw was leaning against the back of the cage with beak open like it was catching its breath and I was gutted. All I could think of was what terror they must feel and it just made me sick.

This is a state government conference known as MACO (Maryland Association of Counties) so it’s not open to the public and everyone there had a badge with their name and organization on it. I got a “guest pass” so I could go inside with him and watch him set up (riveting). Three of his colleagues arrived soon after to assist with set-up.

The convention center floor was brightly colored with red carpets running between the aisles. This year’s theme was Everyday Heroes and then it dawned on me why Todd had created a comic strip representing his org that was printed on a standing display board and two life-size “heroes” for photo ops. (Here’s me thinking he was just being creative again.)

The plan for day 1 was lunch at Tequila Mockingbird with colleagues and then dinner with his boss and another colleague. After setup we were lucky to once again be able to check in early, take a breather and then drive back to Tequila Mockingbird for this lunch with Sherry and Randy (new to me) and Aaron (who I knew from our last conference dinners out). They all decided to take the “same table as last year” – a high-top closest to the window/front door and Todd picked the side facing out so I sat next to him on a wobbly bar stool (my favorite thing) with the sun streaming in behind the other three so that I couldn’t really see their faces and my floaters* were on overdrive. I felt awkward the entire time.

Sherry is a few years younger than my mother and was lovely. Impeccably dressed and beautiful skin and so very kind. She included me often in conversation throughout our three days together, without making me feel like an outsider which I very clearly was. They all decided to share the nachos with chicken. Still feeling sick over the chickens, I ordered spinach and mushroom enchiladas, which were delicious. I did not drink. The colleagues talked shop most of the time and when I wasn’t eating I took a cue from Aaron on his phone that it wouldn’t be rude for me to peruse my emails and Facebook while we sat.

We met with Boss and Aaron for dinner at Fager’s Island. Let me tell you – the last time I was at Fager’s Island it was 1998 with my ex and I was feeling prickly about being 29 and all these young girls in their hot-girl clothes made me feel sad and old. I turned around on my bar stool and there was my cousin, looking like an angry wasp (he didn’t enjoy the bus), and the unexpected surprise was joyful and transforming.

Fager’s was unrecognizable to me. They’ve transformed what used to be a big open outdoor space with a gigantic bar and raw bar with a DJ spinning tunes to an intimate sandy beach dining area with tables under swaying palm trees. There’s a small bar close to the water with low stools around it.

I ordered the baked brie with blackberry compote + spicy pecans and Ms. Jean’s spinach salad. Todd tried one of Boss’s Oyster Rockefellers and didn’t hate it. He’s not an oyster/mussel/clam guy so I was shocked he was even interested. Spoiler: too fishy, won’t eat again.

By the time we left cars were flooding in. Some dude in a long-bed pickup was trying to back into a parking space that was clearly too small for him and blocking incoming and outgoing cars. He parked it with the nose sticking out a good three feet and got out of the truck. A shuttle/club car full of people passed by and one dude shouts, “what kind of asshole parks like that?!” The guy actually turned and GOT BACK IN HIS TRUCK and moved. It was epic.

After dinner Todd and I went to Salty Dog for drinks. The bartender was new to us and super friendly – he’s a teacher and a girls hockey coach and so he and Todd had something in common to talk about. The guy sitting to my left (late 20s, early 30s) struck up a conversation and turns out he was there for the conference. Lives in Pigtown* and is “a very loud and outspoken advocate” for change there, showed me a pic of his front steps with a crack pipe on it and told me about the junkies in the alley next to his house. Can’t imagine. He was cool kid. He and Todd exchanged business cards. I loved his Edgar Allan Poe tattoo on his leg.

I forgot to bring oat milk for my coffee so the next morning I decided to get my shit together and go downstairs to the café for a cup of oat milk and a toasted bagel with extra cream cheese. Got all the way upstairs to the room and there was only ONE cream cheese. Normally non-confrontational – and lazy – me would just say fuck it and make do. But this time I paid $1.99 for that little container of cream cheese and I was going back down the elevator to get it. What IS it with this hotel? (For what it’s worth, we did NOT go to the bar this time because we learned our lesson.)

Got some time on the beach before dinner. Found a decent spot with a view of the water. Some time later, grandpop and grandma show up to the group to the front and right of me and add two more chairs to their line of five, directly in front of me and now blocking my view of the ocean. Okay so I’m reading anyway. I stopped long enough to stare at them through my sunglasses hoping they’d notice what they’d done. Wrong. Then grandma lights up a cig and the smoke is blowing right at me. Oh how I wanted to go up to her and say, DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN’T SMOKE ON THE BEACH? But I didn’t because, I’m me. Oh but how I thought about it!

I got up, grabbed my chair and walked to their right and in front of them and slammed my chair down. Because I’m sure they saw me and suddenly felt my wrath and felt immediately sorry for being assholes. I enjoyed a peaceful, smoke -free hour or so before I got up to leave, passing grandma puffing away on her next cigarette.

The Taste of Maryland is held at the convention center for conference attendees by ticket only. When Todd and I arrived, we showed our tickets to the security guy at the entrance and he says to me, “Ma’am, where are your credentials?” What? “You need credentials to enter.” Um, NO… we asked yesterday if I needed a guest pass and were told we only needed our tickets. I have no credentials! I’m just a lowly civilian.

Now Todd is pissed and there’s literally no one at the registration booths because the day is over. At this point I’m thinking, I don’t care, let’s go out to eat somewhere fun! But I found a guy standing nearby who looked like he might know what’s going on and explained the situation, and a minute later he’s on his walkie talkie telling the security folks that guests only need a ticket. Uh huh, that’s right motherfucker. (Seriously, security guard was only doing his job and he did apologize.)

So we got in and stood in line on the red carpet – the only red carpet I’ll ever walk by the way, and Todd took video of me walking it because I’m a weirdo– and handed our tickets over and began the adventure. There were booths from each county and samples of foods, open bars, and butlered foods. Sherry suggested we start at the bar – a woman after my heart! And then we walked around plucking cheese, pasta salad samples, various crab balls, and Smith Island Cake.*

It got more and more crowded and people kept bumping my purse. Some said excuse me, many did not. I noticed everyone there was still wearing their credentials and I really felt like I don’t belong there. I’m sure being initially turned away by security for lacking credentials soiled the experience from the start. And the lines – oh the lines! I hate lines. I fully embrace that sentiment now. I don’t want to go anywhere where I have to stand in a line. I’m 56! Life is short and my days are passing by like water through a sieve. I don’t have time to stand in line. It’s 20 minutes waiting for one crab ball that I can never get back.

I told Todd I was ready to go. When I told him I felt like an outsider, he said, how do you think I feel? I said, “you’re right. You don’t belong and you don’t want to.” Why? Look at these guys. These straight-laced government employees all wearing their khaki pants and their button-down shirts and their brown belts and matching droll brown shoes.* Boring. I didn’t marry that guy and I’m glad. I married the guy with the motorcycle jacket and earring, whose fingernails are dirty from working on his cars in his spare time. He’s just a little more conservative and swears less than his wife.

Anyway, we left there and went to Bull on the Beach, to meet a friend who owns a condo nearby that he wants Todd to help him renovate. After some food we went to the condo, which is nice but needs an update. He’s open to suggestions and there may be some travel back down in the future after the season ends.

The next day – the day of the Crab Feast – was a shorter conference day and Todd was due back about 2:00. I decided to hit the beach in the morning before the crowds. I packed up my not-Bogg bag (because I’m all for cool things but not the label) and strapped my beach chair on my back. Walked out the door, dropped the Do Not Disturb tag and bent over to pick it up and got the chair’s cup holder caught on the door handle. Then I’m trying to unsuccessfully disentangle myself from it only to give up and sink to my knees on the floor. One of the maids saw me and ran over to help and I’m all, I can’t believe I did that, omg.

So I was on the beach by 9:30 and parked myself at the top of the tide, a perfect view of the ocean and the endless horizon. None too crowded yet, only two guys and a boy next to me with fishing poles in the sand. I only briefly considered, after the mishap with the door handle, whether this was a wise spot to sit, fishhooks and all. Turned out very peaceful. The people who came after kept a respectful distance and it was the best beach day ever. And, the sand wasn’t so hot yet that I was able to cross it to the boardwalk without shoes.

The Crab Feast, also a ticketed event but this one was attended by extended family and so there were kids everywhere too. Easily 500 people there, under two gigantic,long tents and a few dozen tables outside the tents in the sun. Great live band playing all the best songs of our generation.

Todd cracked crabs and I had a crabcake, cole slaw, and potato salad – but seemed wasteful for a ticket for me? Everywhere around me, people were picking crabs and hammering legs on the brown-papered tables. There was a pleasant breeze drifting through the tents that was ultimately blocked by the people around us and so I was sweating profusely at the table.

We sat with Sherry, Randy, and Aaron and a gentleman we know, and usually have at least one dinner with when we come down, from local government. The man with them sitting across from us asked good-naturedly if I prefer to have someone else pick my crabs. I said no, I was born and raised in PA so this isn’t really my thing. Where in PA? he asked. Turns out he grew up not far from us and he started rattling off PA Dutch foods and red beet eggs and I’m all, YASSS.

We said our goodbyes just after the Governor arrived. The Convention Center isn’t far from the Salty Dog so we walked there. Hell, I was already soaked with sweat so what’s a little more? We had some drinks and loaded fries and cooled down until the sun set, then decided to walk the boardwalk. Got as far as the Brass Balls Saloon and parked ourselves midway down the bar for more cocktails. Turned out to be karaoke night and we were seated directly across from the stage and the entertainment was top notch.

Todd kept drinking and I switched to club soda with shots of Patron – wasted away again in Ocean City-ville. He was trashed and hilarious – a rare treat not to be missed. We walked back to the hotel around 1:00 AM, serenading each other to Picture* and laughing hysterically at the world. I have no idea how loud we were but we made it back to our hotel without incident.

For what it’s worth, I’m glad I got to go along this time but this particular “paid for” amenities like two meal tickets and hotel stay wasn’t nearly as much fun as the conference in June. Will I come next year? Probably. But I’ll plan my time better.

*********

Floaters – spots in your vision, common with aging (yay). They can appear like specks or strings or webs that are gray across your line of vision in one eye, or both (if you’re really lucky like me). You can try to track it with your eye but will fail, because they move with the eye.

Pigtown – neighborhood, also known as Washington Village, in Baltimore near the stadiums, the Downtown and Inner Harbor, and University of Maryland Medical Center and Shock Trauma. Got its name in the second half the 19^th century as pigs brought from the Midwest were herded from the B&O railroad up the streets to the slaughterhouses. Fun fact: Babe Ruth was born and raised here.

Smith Island Cake -Official state dessert of Maryland. Has 9 thin layers of yellow cake and chocolate fudge frosting and has been produced on Smith Island (the only inhabited group of islands in the Chesapeake) since the 1800s. In those early days the wives made them for their husbands to take with them on the autumn oyster harvest, to remember that they were loved and missed and to wish for a good harvest and safe reunion.

I am in no way saying that straight-laced government employees dressed this way are all boring and therefore unattractive. They’re just not my kind of guy. Conversely, the women – particularly women of color – were dressed fabulously and I’m totally here for it.

Picture – duet, best known performance is by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. IMHO. Not by Todd & Tara on a drunken Friday night.