I’m a skylark – I like to be up and about early – especially in this heat wave that seems to have forgotten where it was supposed to be and parked itself over the UK- like the space ship in Independence Day. In fact falling out of bed around half past five is essential if I want to meet the daily word count.
Also, since I don’t want to meet the daily flux of folk that litter the beach at times like these I take my pre-prandial saunter on the shoreline at an early hour too. Usually it’s just me, a few dozen shitty seagulls preening and gossiping between themselves and the quiet wish-wash of waves too lazy to break into even the smallest of splashes.
However, this morning was different. As I strolled along the tide line towards a line of rocks I heard a peculiar grunting sound. URGH…AARGH…URGH URGH…OOH! At first I thought it was an itinerant bull seal humping himself up the beach in that ungainly way they have but a couple of paces further and the sound of “Yeah baby, that’s it” halted me in my tracks as I realised an entirely different species was indulging in an entirely different form of humping.
As softly as I could I turned my face, (naturally aglow with maidenly blushes) and my feet away from the scene of passion but in doing so failed to notice the rock lurking behind me, ready to wreak disaster on the unwary. I landed on my bum with a thump and an “oh bugger”.
In an instant, a figure leapt up from behind the rocks, took one look at me and headed, butt-naked for the sea. I didn’t wait to see if his partner followed him – the sight of a hairy arse and a willy the size of a… well let’s just say Cumberland sausages probably won’t be on my menu for a while…waving free in the breeze got me up on my feet and away home as though Old Nick himself was after me.
Don’t get me wrong – absolutely nothing against a bit of rumpy-pumpy on the beach; in fact I remember once…well anyway, no matter. It’s just that…before breakfast? Oh please, remember we’re British.