7 Days In Savannah: The Beach

7 Days in Savannah is a recollection of my time growing up and being a young man in Savannah, GA. All stories are true and relayed to the best of my memory.

So, I went to high school with this kid named Chuck. Chuck was, to say the least, a character. He was a tall, yet dumpy, white kid who was already losing his hair by senior year. He was a bit of an outcast. He liked black people, but they didn't like him back. He didn't have too many white friends, other than the other freaks and geeks. Chuck was that dude that had a trunkful of porn magazines, (mostly black women) and brought a prostitute (yes, an actual prostitute to the Senior prom.) His reasoning: At least he knew that he would be getting laid after the prom, even if he had to pay for it. Weirdness aside, Chuck was pretty harmless. Although he looked like the type to pull a Columbine, and definitely had an affinity for guns, he wasn't the type that would actually do it. I wouldn't say that Chuck and I were friends, but we had several classes together and were cordial.

One night before graduation, I ran into Chuck at the Tara Cinemas. It was the movie hangout for our high school, and is no longer there. I was with my homeboy, Ashley if I'm not mistaken. Chuck was with 3 black girls that went to a rival high school. I was intrigued. How did this clown hook up with 3 attractive sisters? (well, 2 of them were attractive, the other looked like a reject from Jurassic Park. LOL) In the course of our conversation, he invited me to hang out with them. For some strange reason, I said yes.

When the movie was over, I left with Chuck and the three girls whose names I can't remember to save my life. We'll call them girl one, girl two and girl three. He picked up another one of his associates, and we drove around for awhile. Small talk was made, but I couldn't seem to connect with any of the girls. We wound up at the Subway on the corner of DeRenne and White Bluff. They ate (I say they, because I didn't have any loot) and we talked about what we were going to get into. Really, there isn't much a motley crew of high schoolers could do. We usually went to football games, but it wasn't in season. Or we went to a movie, which we just came from. It's not like we could go to a club. Girl One (or was it two or three) came up with a fabulous suggestion.

"Let's go to the beach!"

Let me backtrack for a minute. I didn't have a car back then, and the beach seemed like it might as well been in Africa. I know now, that I can get there in less than the time it takes me to go to work, but back then??? That joint was far. Plus it was already 11:00 PM. I wasn't one for staying out all night. I didn't have an official curfew, but I knew not to come home at ridiculous times of the night.

"I don't know. I have to get home soon."

Girls 1-3 clowned me about this. Apparently, they didn't have curfews. Apparently, they could stay out all night. Apparently, I was a lame for respecting the rules. Apparently, I succumbed to peer pressure, because next thing I know, the six of us were heading to Tybee Island.

Here's where the story takes an even worse turn. Chuck decided that we needed something to drink, so he took his receding hairline to the liquor store and bought a couple of bottles of MD 20-20. In high school, I had not even sniffed any liquor, so I knew I wasn't going to partake, but Chuck, the driver did. Chuck was taking the bottle to the head as we drove down the dark highway. I was appalled. I tried to not say something, so the girls wouldn't clown me again, but I couldn't. Chuck was weaving in and out of his lane and speeding.

"Yo, Chuck! Slow down on that drink. I'm trying to get to the beach in one piece."

"I got this. I drink and drive all the time."

Girl One (or was it 2 0r 3) chimed in with her support of the drunken behavior too.

"Shut up, you big baby!"

I slumped back in the cramped seat, hoping that the two girls surrounding me would serve as seat belts, since Chuck's car lacked them in the back seat. I was sure that this would be the night that I would die. I even imagined it, like on an episode of Scrubs...

"On tonight's news, 6 teenagers were killed when there car drove off a bridge and into the marsh. They were then eaten by alligators. We now go to Trisha Takinowa who is on the scene."

I chuckled to myself for having a sense of humor about my impending death, and almost forgot that I was being chauffered by an alcoholic. That is until Chuck decided to up the stakes. Apparently, drinking and driving was not enough of an adrenaline rush for him, so he decided to turn off the headlights and turn up the Geto Boys!!! I was scared out of my mind. Passing cars flashed their highbeams, while Scarface, Willie D. and Bushwick Bill cursed us out though the speakers. I just about lost my mind. I can't say that I was much of a praying man, but I did that night. I prayed that the Lord would protect me from this fool and his foolery. And he did. We made it to the beach safely, although looking at how Chuck parked his car was a dead giveaway that he was drunk. We got out the car and headed to the beach for an evening of fun.

Except it was no fun for me. I was paranoid the whole time I was there. It was dark and I was with 4 strangers and a classmate who turned out to be psychotic. I didn't know if he would just up and leave me, or try to go swimming in the Atlantic Ocean at night. Turns out, he chose the latter. Dark as it was, Chuck decides that he would ignore the warning signs, and test out the waters. He took Girl One (or was it 2 or 3) with him. Me, his homeboy and the other two girls stood at the edge of the water as they went deeper and deeper into the current. Eventually, we couldn't even see them anymore.

At that point, I just threw up my hands and resigned myself to my fate. What's the worst that could happen. I have to call my mom and tell her that I got kidnapped. I've always been a good kid. She wouldn't punish me too much, would she? I felt peace for the first time since Chuck cracked that bottle of MD 20-20. Ten minutes later, Chuck and Girl One (or was it two or three) come sauntering up to the pavillion where we are sitting. They are soaking wet, and the girl is holding her bra and underwear in her hand. I guess Chuck had a good night, even if I didn't.

Luckily, by the time we drove home, Chuck had sobered up. The ride home was much less eventful than the drive there. I looked at the clock as we pulled up to my house and it was 2:45. I wasn't expecting to be out so late, so I didn't unlock the side door to the garage, which was my way of sneaking in and out of the house. I had to take the hit. I quietly unlocked the front door, and to my surprise, nobody was awake. They never even knew I didn't come home at a decent hour. Or if they knew, they never said anything. I went to the laundry room and changed my clothes, and laid down on the couch, and fell asleep. This was one heck of a night, and I didn't want to do it again anytime soon.

That Monday, I saw Chuck at school and he told me they were going out again on Friday. He said, I was more than welcome to tag along. My answer? Not no, but HELL NO!!!