Contributor: Cheryl Anne Gardner - - It had finally hit the triple digits, and the beach looked like a garlic pizza with roasted humans on top. While I was snoozing in the sun, I had this bizarre dream of a glass lemon hanging in the air above my head as a waiter dressed in black tie towered over me reciting a menu in French. When I opened my eyes, an oily bohunk in a slinky banana hammock was standing over me. He was so greasy, he could have slipped, nipples first, into another dimension. He had a fistful of sand, which he proceeded to fling into my face. I spit some exorcism in pig-Latin at him, and he smiled, then asked me if I wanted to go dancing. I told him to "fuck off," so he left only to return five minutes later with a pina-colada that had an umbrella in it so huge that it eclipsed the sun. I really did want to go dancing,...

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Author: Cheryl Anne Gardner