Nels was on the beach, per usual. He’d do this on purpose-
show up on the days I worked just to annoy me. He wanted me to meet him on my
lunch break and I did, walking toward him as the Nathan’s settled uneasily in my
stomach, the coffee cup warming my frigid hands. Should’ve gotten the churro.
The sand was solid beneath my feet, cold and stiff. Nels
stood on the shore, avoiding the chilly grey abyss of the Atlantic by hopping
near the water’s edge. As I got closer, I noticed he was poking something with
a stick. My stomach churned at the thought of what it could be. Should’ve
gotten the churro. “Fucker’s prehistoric,” Nels rasped, his breath coming out in wispy puffs. “What’s the deal with jellyfish, anyway? They’re the ones with the ink, right?”
He rattled off some more, jabbing at the jellyfish with his
stick the whole while. I watched, enthralled, confused, disgusted. Should’ve
gotten the churro.
“Cut that out, man,” I told him. “It’s octopuses, or octopi,
I guess, that are inky. Not jellyfish.”
I coughed and could taste some coffee lurch upward in my
throat. My head ached, the sun was too damn bright, reflecting off the sad
beige sand.
“Whatever, Dr. Aquaman,” Nels puffed, continuing to jab at
the fish. I watched the stick puncture the thing: sad, blue, dirty. Plastic.
Another lurch, this time it was kosher.
“That’s a goddamn shower cap,” I gurgled before staggering
closer to the water and vomiting. The foamy puke merged with the foam water. I
bet the whole ocean is full of it, hotdog puke and black coffee. My frozen
hands still on my frozen knees, I heard Nels ask for money.
“In the mood for a churro,” he said. 
N.d. Photograph. Finding My Feet in NYC. Http://sidewalksandsubwaysnyc.tumblr.com, 24 Sept. 2012. Web. <tumblr.com>.
