corpho

My husband and I ditched out on a BBQ out on the Jersey shore. Spending hours on a train on Memorial Day sounded like more of a chore than a treat, so we went to Brighton Beach instead. It was fucking cold! I was wearing a hoodie on top and my bathing suit bottom, until it got so cold that I had to put the rest of my clothes on and get off the beach. We needed a place to pee, and the public toilets were too crowded and nasty, so we tried to find a Russian restaurant on the boardwalk that had a bathroom. We did the honorable thing and ordered some drinks at one place called Moscow, but they said we had to order food. We went to the place next door, Tatiana, and ordered Baltika beer. At one point, I felt this huge thud behind me, and when I looked down, there was a drunk guy who had fallen out of his chair. The look on his face was one of utter blankness. He stood up and ambled out of the restaurant cool as a cucumber. Another drunk guy walked up to our table and was speaking Russian to us, obviously asking for a light. Waiters scrambled to light his cigarette just so he would leave us alone. We eventually left and went shopping for pickles, caviar, more Baltika, Belorusski bread, and various veggie spreads. We had to take the B from Brighton into Manhattan to Canal Street just so we could catch the J back into Brooklyn. It's funny how it's harder to travel within a boro than it is to travel between boros. All in all, it was a good day, and I memorialized our servicemen and women by drinking Russian beer.

My mother's father was in the U.S. air force, and fought in the Korean War. I was told that he was honorably discharged for crashing his plane when he shouldn't have. Do/did you have anyone in the "service"?