The Afternoon Jules Regretted his Dashcam

It’s difficult to get women.  You have to make some sort of performance; you have to impress them, certainly if you’re trying to impress more than one.  And there are many different types of women in the world, nearly as many varieties as there are means and strategies for seeking their bountiful affections, but those women impressed by material things are the simplest and most straightforward to impress assuming material things you have the material to afford.  Devil knows.  Jules wasn’t much of a mariner; his boat wasn’t even his own.  His father, a retiring stockbroker for a large financial firm had purchased the vehicle a few years previous but admitted in private he never had the time to take the girl out for a ride, much in the way you would maintain a riding horse.

But Jules wanted to take the girls out for a ride.  He frankly didn’t know them, only the initials of one carved with iron ink into the crack above her oblivious ass, and the first name of another–at least so he thought; “Sally” she seemed but in reality her name was Florence, though she preferred to go by “Krystal.”  Of a high quality is a woman that likes to identify as an overpriced liquor.

Jules had a driver’s license.  He didn’t even consider whether or not he needed a license to drive a boat.  The keys were easy enough to come across, and the harbormaster was passed out in his office.  That’s what life is like in Kennebunkport.

A few girls and his wingman, an old friend he picked up from a party three weeks ago when he was inebriated enough to compare pieces–and a little more–they tore out into the night–or afternoon–to give the girls a rise as the combustion engine of the old girl sent her high above the crest of the waves; how fleet her feet.

But turn and turn and twist and dive and drive and drive, she whirled about against the waves, spinning like a top, till thankfully she redressed herself and resettled her bangs above the spray of salt.  But Jules would never forget that day when he lost control, launched the women wide, and recorded himself for his father’s later entertainment having lost himself and his senses hurling face forward into the floor like a man struck hard unguligrade upon the jaw.