Roxanne loves the beach. Even if she couldn’t find anyone to go with, she’d get on the ferry to Far Rockaway and spend a whole day lying on the sand, hearing other people’s conversations. Through texting, she updates me on what’s going on around her. It’s usually about the kind of people who she cannot believe exist.
I don’t get the beach. I suppose it’s amusing to see a massive amount of water making a lot of noise, but it gets old after about five minutes. At home, Roxanne doesn’t like to sit still. She would rather be cleaning the house than doing nothing, yet somehow she can sit still for hours on the beach.
When I sit in a dentist’s chair, I become mysteriously calm too. Someone shoving his fingers, drills, and cotton balls inside of my mouth fools my brain into thinking that resistance is futile; a sense of resignation takes over my whole body. Perhaps the beach does something similar to Roxanne.
I feel bad that I don’t share the same enthusiasm for the beach, but I don’t think she feels bad about her lack of enthusiasm when I excitedly point to a Ferrari in the street. I’ve never been to auto racing, but it might have the same effect the beach has on Roxanne; a bunch of cars going round and round in a circle, making lots of noise. I could sit there for hours, but Roxanne would be bored in five minutes.
While Roxanne is making a snow angel on the beach, I do things I enjoy but she doesn’t, like experimenting with my cameras and watching dry documentary films. Roxanne’s status updates keep flowing in, and I report back with our dog’s status.
Around 3 pm, I think about what to cook for dinner. Since Roxanne is coming back from the ocean, seafood makes the most sense. I check the latest post from @aquabestnyc and see oysters. I know the answer, but I ask Roxanne if she wants them. I walk over to get some, along with good-looking sardines from Portugal. She always arrives home with a desperate need to eat immediately, so she is happy to see the table ready.
As you may have noted, texting is what makes our relationship work. Even when we are miles apart, the day moves towards a shared goal, like digging a tunnel from both sides of the river.