Sketches of public transit

I HAVE ARRIVED

The grey sky is hitting the grey water, and the view all the way up to what my Mapquest printout tells me is Nahant is a vast blob of grey, except for a whopper of a retirement home: a buff pink ziggurat rising grandly behind some scrubby shrubs The ocean smells like the hot sweet tang of radiator fluid. It’s nothing like the store brand salt air dryer sheets I bought last month to psych myself up for this move.
Technically I can see why people say that Wonderland is disapointing. I fully acknowledge that the stop is just a giant parking lot littered with Dunkin’ Donuts cups, yet I can’t help feeling a bit betrayed by my sister Ohioan. Twenty-five years of shared history, growing up landlocked with access to nothing but gravel beaches and the turquoise-painted zoo smelling hell that was Canoochee Creek. How is it that she is so unable to look beyond the strip of boarded up pizza joints and burned out crusts of motels to seE OVER FIVE MILES OF ATLANTIC OCEAN BEACH ACCESSIBLE BY SUBWAY.
I can’t believe how easy this was. I should come hear every day after work. Well, realistically, more like once a week. I’m pretty cold in my interview outfit, a sundress from the Urban Outfitters clearance rack covered over with a velvet blazer that some big-boobed girl named Greta left at my going away party. And the water will eventually make my toes numb, but how could I possibly walk on the beach in SHOES?
Two weeks ago I was stuck in the drive-thru at Arby’s waiting for a Jamocha shake and waffle fries. Now I’m standing at the end of a continent, looking out at a vast coniquous body of water filled with whales and dotted with container ships. I am the Queen of all that I survey and–a man is approaching me out of the grey blob. Shirtless. Tan. Big white chiclet teeth and crinkles around his eyes. Probably about seventy. As he walks by, he raises his chin at me–a tough greeting, and tells me in that accent synonymous with Clam Chowder and This Old House, “we’re glad you’re here.”
I HAVE ARRIVED.