"You Look Like My Third Wife . . . and I've Only Been Married Twice"

This is what a man said to me as I was quickly throwing on my fins. He was working hard to get my attention. I, on the other hand, was racing to make it out to the lineup before being spotted by the lifeguard.

It was a race I would not win.

I heard his voice over his truck's loudspeaker before I'd even gotten my hair wet. You pick your battles. This was one in which I was certain to go down in defeat, ignominiously forced out of the water and made to stand in the corner with the "Dunce" cap.

So I turned around, took a small wave and got right back out.

I expected a lecture. I did not receive one. Instead, it was suggested that I take my mat up the beach a way. The lifeguard tower there was empty.

I did not argue. Instead, I gave him the answer the first guy probably wanted to hear from me.

"I love you."

And off I went. North. Where the lifeguards weren't.