It’s been seven days now, and all I have left to eat are Lay’s potato chips and Mountain Dew. When I asked them today if I could have a little meat in my diet, they said they would have to check with their supervisors. Now I’m sitting in the sand at the edge of the tree line trying not to think about how much I want water as the white, foamy waves abuse the shoreline.
What am I doing here? I started flirting with some girl while I was on vacation in Mexico, and the next thing I know there’s a bag over my head and I’m being forced below deck on some boat. I don’t actually speak Spanish, so I didn’t have answers for the questions they were shouting at me. Then finally after what felt like hours at sea, on of the guys asked me if I knew who the girl was I’d been talking to. I said I didn’t but she seemed really nice and we had hit it off. And now here I am.
Ten days. They came back yesterday and brought some beef jerky and bunch of canned goods. No can opener. Most of the cans are the kind with the tab, but the ones I really want are the ones that you have to work for. Just my luck. I honestly never thought that I would ever crave canned peaches like this, but I searched the tree line and the sand and the rocks for any kind of sharp object I could use to pry open that can. I found one right before the sun went down. When I got the can open, I just poured it right into my face. The juices went everywhere.
I’ve made the cans last as long as I could, because my captors don’t seem to have any regularity to their appearances. At this point I’m sure I’m more of a burden than anything, and I wish they would figure out what they’re going to do with me.
There’s really only time to think and write while you’re stuck on an island. I remember times when I would kill time with friends in line at parks and things and we would play the desert island game. I know now that if you have the foresight to be prepared with your favorite books, movies, etc., chances are you’re not really stranded. The game should really be asking what things you’ll think about the most. As far as food goes, I really miss chips ‘n salsa, which is kind of ironic since I’m pretty sure I’m still somewhere in Mexico. I also miss barbeque sauce. When I get back home, I’m going to drink an entire thing of barbeque sauce by itself.
Steamed vegetables would be nice, I guess. And cheese. I’m sure there will be more things that I’ll miss the longer I stay here, but right now I’m just thankful to be alive. Could sure use a beer, though.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Five a Day.”