Vic and Lee play golf today, so after breakfast I go to the beach and write to the music of the surf. When I get restless, I ride north towards some big clouds. Soon I’m in a rain so wet I feel like I’m bicycling underwater. I take shelter at another beach with some surfers. After this storm, and throughout my whole stay at Vero Beach, the sky is decorated with rainbows. There are so many that Vic jokes it must be National Rainbow Week.
My ride around Vero Beach reveals many, many expensive homes and condos, golf courses, and yacht clubs. Somehow I miss “downtown” entirely.
Vic returns from his game admitting that he was unable to resist the demands to bring me to dinner at the club. At least I have time to go out on the sailboard again first. There is better wind today, and I play for hours, until I feel my arms will soon come off at the elbows. I never imagined such carefree amusement would find me on this trip.
For dinner Vic loans me an entire suit of clothes. Amazingly, once everything is tucked in and cinched up, I don’t look half bad. I get a very strange feeling when I look at myself, though. I realize that I have come to think of my clothes as part of me after wearing them every day for 5 months. I feel now like I’ve stepped into a new identity, and I’m whisked off to the club.
Almost everyone there is older than Vic and Lee. I discover that evening dress for golfers may incliude such eye-popping combos as a neon orange jacket with blue-green plaid slacks. The club is dark and lofty, with staff (including the only black people I’ve seen around) constantly running past putting drinks in your hand. I begin responding to the barrage of questions, glad that I brought my map. This continues through dinner. I have learned to eat furiously whenever someone else is talking. I am the conversation piece and the entertainment for the evening. I’m afraid I overshadow the guest of honor, Jeannie, who made the first hole-in-one of her life today.
Afterwards Vic and I attempt to watch Das Boot, but we both give up and go to bed halfway through.