Ucluelet melon

It has been a busy summer, friends. Lots of being inside bitching about the weather, and a little bit of f-cking around outside. Patios, parks and sangria. The highlight so far was a weekend away to the fine shores of Ucluelet to celebrate a double whammy 30th birthday of my bro Koleman & bud Jackie.

No kid, accompanied by just a group of friends I am so lucky to have – one I can wear a bathing suit in front of and eat 17 s’mores with the innocent abandon of a mentally challenged homeless woman. Friends that are now nearly split on a decision I made. So, look below at some of the photos I took in Ucluelet. I won’t address them. They're lovely but really this is all about picking a side. Ready?

The players:

Nuv (husband with tart tongue and ability to make being an asshole so hot I want to lick his mouth)

Sarah (gorgeous friend up from Miami for the party weekend -  tanned, stylish, Kiwi accent, looks great in jean shorts aka when we’re side by side I look like Velma’s gross shut-in sister who wears "Stone Cold" Steve Austin’s hand-me-downs)

Jay (great friend, sidekick, uncle and twin and [when with Nuv] punch-worthy chucklebuddy)

The scene:

Our 8th floor secured parking garage – where other families live (you need to have kids to live in my building so, yes, the elevator floors are always disgusting). We are taking out Stella’s car seat so all 4 robust adults can comfortably drive the f-cking epic journey to the island.

The short but sweet breakdown:

While the boys yank the seat out and the girls watch, Sarah spots 2 balls under a car down at the end of the aisle. I slowly turn to look, and with radar most commonly seen in owls and other mythical creatures, declare, “Those aren’t balls, that’s fruit!”

After no more than 2.5 words exchanged between us, Sarah goes and snakes under the car to grab the bigger “ball” which as I predicted is a beautiful honeydew. A melon with a thick skin (unlike me), that evidently has been placed down on the ground with other groceries and casually rolled under the car to be forgotten, unseen and unassuming.

We proudly show the boys our prize… and they threaten to heave it off the roof. They were NOT HAVING IT. We were gross “dumpster divers” that would get diseased if we ate it because it was injected with “AIDS ants.” Yes. We’re the ridiculous ones. Exclaiming that at least we didn’t take the smaller ball aka peach did not earn us any points.

Against all odds that melon made it to Ucluelet. I sliced it and put it out for consumption on the Saturday night. It was delicious and nobody contracted any diseases eating it. The leftovers were not brought in that night thus inviting a f-cking real live bear to waddle up onto our deck, play with some rinds and take a chomp out of a roll of paper towel. This was NOT the melon’s fault and if a bear is dumb enough to sample Bounty like an epicurean delight, we should have tracked this thing down and brought it home for Stella to play with.

SO, in conclusion, free food is free food. I ate it and it was good. And half of my friends, including my dear husband, think I’m disgusting. The real question, dear reader, is what do YOU think?