Summer excursions / Durand-Eastman Beach
"Excursion" is kind of a stupid word, but it pops into my head all the time, so I might as well use it. Maybe it's actually a perfectly fine word that has only recently been ruined by dating websites / apps like OKCupid and Tinder. You can only read about so many people looking for "adventures," "excursions," and a "partner in crime," etc., before you think, "Fuck it, maybe I should start expressing myself exclusively in emojis." But anyway, summer is officially here, the season demands excursions (or whatever you decide to call them), and anyway, Allison and I met on Tinder, so am I really above using its vernacular? Apparently not, though I do draw the line at "partner in crime," which is such a cliché no apologies can be made for it. If I had to pick a different word instead (and I do, because I'm trying to write a blog post over here) I would say that she is my cohort, or that we are in cahoots, cavorting around as we do, getting drunk and ogling women together.
As I was saying—or trying to say, before I immediately started doubting my word choices—the most obvious warm-weather excursion is the beach, so we got right to it, Allison and I, asking around about the "best" beach in / near Rochester. The consensus seemed to be that despite the city's location right on the shore of Lake Ontario, there aren't any. We were told to avoid Charlotte Beach at all costs. "The water is too polluted, the sand too dirty, and the people undesirable too, if you want to know the truth." In fact, we were told, we might as well drive out to the Finger Lakes—Canandaigua or Skaneateles or someplace respectable like that (although I was later told that Canandaigua Beach is polluted too). We decided we'd rather make our own decision, and I reiterated my opinion that asking anyone's advice about anything is usually a bad idea, especially when it's something outdoors- or travel-related.
Durand-Eastman Beach seemed like a good bet—less crowded than Charlotte Beach but closer than the Finger Lakes—so we threw a cooler in the back of Jolene and hit the road. Even at the outset, we knew it wasn't the best beach day, only 70-something degrees and early in the season. Still, we were feeling optimistic as we scrambled down the woodsy embankment above the water, totally unprepared for the high-velocity winds that greeted us on the narrow swath of beach at the bottom. Even laying the towels down was near impossible, and once we did get situated, we were pelted relentlessly by granules of sand, which quickly went from annoying to downright painful. The water, while not polluted in any obvious way, was incredibly cold, although useful enough for washing away the layers of grit that covered our bodies.
We didn't let the weather ruin our good mood (indeed, I sometimes like having a bad time), and we lasted at least an hour before giving up and heading over to the Pittsford Plaza Cinema, which has recently been outfitted with fully reclining seats that are so comfortable it's actually comical.
If you're looking for a dark, dystopian satire about love, I recommend The Lobster.