Fun Day

An Atlantic County/Absecon Island, not to mention screwed-up, day.  I had told Jeanne I'd pick her up at Harrah's Casino at 11:00 and Betty and Carole we'd meet at noon in Ventnor.  Found myself still in New Gretna at 11:08 and realized I had scrambled the times.  Called Jeanne and Betty, apologized,  and sped down to friggin' Atlantic City, managing to get lost a couple of times.  On the way, I vowed never again to set foot in that poor excuse for a town again.  (Don't take that seriously.)
Rest of the day went fine.  Got beauteous Jeanne and we met the other two at the library.  Considering the extreme heat and humidity (there's nothing like Jersey shore H & H), we didn't even discuss a walk on the boardwalk.   Instead, we repaired to Wimberg's Funeral Home, where we sat on the second-story porch and talked and laughed, laughed and talked.  We're all ex-pats from Absecon Island and escapees from Holy Spirit High School, so have plenty to laugh about.  George, Carole's bro, who owns the place, joined us for a time in between funerals.
Betty suggested we have lunch at Tommy's in Margate and we all jumped in Carole's car and went there.  Had a perfectly-done hamburger (cooked on the outside and practically rare enough to be breathing within) along with a frosty Blue Moon.  The rest had yummy lunches, too, they said.  Nice place with reasonable prices and I hope to go again.
Carole had parked her (borrowed) car about a block down and, all of us still gabbing away, we got in, Betty and I in the back.  Suddenly, Carole yelled, "Get out, get out!"  We all jumped out in a panic, the rest of us thinking there was a bug inside.
Heh, heh.  No, no bug.  The problem was:  it wasn't Carole's car.  It didn't even look like Carole's car.  Wasn't the same make, model, or year.  Wasn't quite the same color.  However, it was a four-door, just like Carole's, so how were we to know?
We laughed heartily over this, just as glad, though, that the owner didn't appear.  Well, it was his or her fault, wasn't it, for leaving the doors unlocked? 
Carole drove us back to my car and we parted.  I took Jeanne back up to the hell hole I had vowed never to enter again, this time without mishap.  Stopped on the way home to chat for a bit with my buddy, and zipped on up to good ol' Little Egg.
Called the northern dweller, who had electronically sent me an article from the Courier-Post about her husband and his photos of, and knowledge about, the New Jersey Pinelands.  Very absorbing.  We made a date to go to the beach at Spring Lake today and I'm looking forward to that.