We’ve been battling rolling ocean swells for over 26 hours, and I have never been so ready to get off the boat. Jeff is exhausted and, after the boat is nestled securely in the marina slip, he is sound asleep.

Walk. I must walk. I need to stretch my legs and have a change of scenery after such a marathon.

I am familiar with Ft. Pierce. It is  just ok, and the marina isn’t close to the beach, so I set off to walk the waterfront path to the bridge and back.

Ahhhhh. There is a nice 15-20 knot breeze blowing, helping to temper this unusually muggy (82 degrees) New Years Eve afternoon.

My mood lightens. I find myself smiling at all who cross my path, wishing them “Happy New Year!”   Most return the  greeting.

As I cross under the A1A  bridge footpath, I approach a lone man, fishing in the churning water just off the walkway. Smiling, I acknowledge him. He turns to face me directly, adjusting his pole in the process.

WAIT! He’s not fishing, and that’s no POLE!!!!

THAT, is is biggest, blackest, shiniest penis I have ever laid eyes on! And Mr. Man is working that thing like there is no tomorrow!

Averting my eyes (I know. It was difficult, I mean, that is the stuff of XXX porno’s) I deny him the reaction he so desperately desires. I continue ahead, quickening my step. When I get to the opposite side of the bridge, I hastily make for the crosswalk, punching the “cross” button exactly 27 times. Safely across the street, I look back. There is the perve, ambling in my direction.  I begin to jog (God I hate jogging) and put a good amount of space between us when I see a police officer leaning against her squad car. I tell her about the “Handy Man”, expecting  more than a business as usual-they’re mostly all homeless response.

Heading back to the marina, I choose the busy sidewalk instead of the waterfront path. My Happy New Year spirit has been temporarily doused. Walking past a row of men casting their lines from the marina wall, I look straight ahead. No more fellows fishing for pocket trout for me, thankyouverymuch.

Back on the boat, Jeff wakes up and greets me with a “Happy New Year, Honey”.  I think after a glass or three of champagne, it will be. But right now, I am in desperate need of a shower.