The night before we met another of the RV parks residents and he happened to mention to another that Scott was a magistrate. One thing led to another and around 3:00 we were all standing on the beach shivering.
The young couple was excited, she had on her white dress and a small bouquet of flowers. The groom wore flip flops, shorts and...a wife beater. I couldn't help wondering if this was a "here's your sign moment?"
I am not sure if the term "wife beater" to describe a white undershirt is used anywhere else but in the south.
I can't every remember hearing it anywhere else we lived. Salty and I both were caught short when we realized he wasn't going to put another shirt over it.
It is times like these that I realize I may never be a true "beachie." There is probably too many years of formality ingrained in me to let it go so easily. I still have some relaxing to do.
It was a sweet wedding, Salty did a great job and another young couple took off on the boat ride we call marriage. We both hope the ship sails smoothly for them...and the groom gets another shirt.
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