The Beach Chair That Almost Broke Me

but became the catalyst for joy instead

Welcome to DPP, a weekly newsletter about the real-life trials and tribulations of pleasing, and how I leverage emotional intelligence for proper recovery. Letters land on Tuesdays and sometimes surprise days, please consider me a first-class seat with your inbox?

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Hello reader!

Please enjoy today’s attempt at a flash story as I expand in my venture to explore creative non-fiction writing. This personal essay is packed (pun fully intended) with emotional intelligence themes of: self-awareness, emotional regulation, empathy, and humor as a coping skill. As mentioned in my last letter, I may need to spread my wings a bit from the niche of people-pleasing, which feels a lot like coming full circle, because this pub was always intended to focus on the recovery, or, the practice of self-compassion. I very much hope you enjoy! ☺️

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Just a beach chair. Blue. Green. Silver bars, still shiny, partially from the newness, partially from the sunscreen.

Clipped to it: a Monster Jam backpack, a family-sized beach mat, two snap-back hats, and a tote bag, filled to the brim, Spiderman pillow pushing its way above the opening, the way a too-full glass of water creates a dome before spilling down the sides.

And don’t let me forget the mango dog treats in the zipper cooler.

Note: you do not have a dog.

Memorial Day weekend, we have a family sleepover in Carlsbad with Auntie Tass.

Excellent

Super fun

Boys leave Monday morning

I stay

With all our stuff.

“Take the train back home”, they say!

“Great idea!” I agree.

Time to pack.

What in the holy grail did we bring for ONE NIGHT???

Multiple blankets and… a crib sheet??

Four pairs of clothes. Each.

Overflowing and underutilized makeup bag- organized? Of course not.

Through sweat-soaked eyes, I have to decide what to leave behind.

I glance at the beach chair…

Augie and I both are emotionally attached. It’s an indoor/outdoor staple for us. No way can I leave it in Carlsbad. No. Way.

Determined to make it work, my sister sprinkles her magic around all our shit to craft a “carry on” for the train.

Super simple!

Looks like I’m off to Hogwarts.

Or hell.

Either way it’s all good because I have EVERYTHING.

Actually not everything.

Had to sacrifice the sand bucket. And one beach towel.

Can’t have it all, they say.

It’s okay, sacrifice makes for sweeter appreciation.

We make our pilgrimage down to the car.

By some miracle, I only get caught between the fence and the concrete building wall by the bars of the beach chair once.

I lay myself down, back first, as if on a hospital bed, legs dangling off sister’s trunk to slide out from the chair’s backpack straps.

One arm…check.

Next arm…got it.

Start to sit up and … I can’t

I’m … attached.

Where??

BY THE HAIR.

The chair has capitalized on an opportunity to elicit revenge for packing her up too much.

She’s taken my hair as payment.

Small price for getting all our personals clipped into one item.

My sister has to fish me out. She detangles the chunk of black bird’s-nest my chair has eaten. I move to the front seat of her 4Runner. Ravi, is her name. Or is it his name? Their, name.

We watch Kelly Clarkson cover Tal Bachman’s “She’s So High” on YouTube. I tell my sister that Kelly’s cover of this song is a spiritual experience for me. We laugh. Something about her singing it live, maybe the eye contact, the lack of shoes on stage??

“She’s so HiiiiiiIiiiiIiiiiiiIiigh, high above meeee, she’s so lovelyyyyy

like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, you’re Aphrodite”

We’re driving towards the train station

6 min

5 min

4 min till train arrives

Red light.

C’MON

This is the last train of the day!

Can’t miss it!

Green light, thank GOD

White sports car (don’t ask me what kind, I don’t know) in front of us

Going slower than

Me

with the beach-chair-backpack on.

Us

tailing him.

Oblivious, he changes lanes.

We pull into the station.

I get out and pull the human-trap up one arm, falling towards the left.

How much does this thing weigh??

Take it off and carry it drag it by the handle.

Made it on board.

My Mind: Don’t go upstairs, where the great view of the water is. We can’t make it all together, here.

Me to mind: Absolutely not.

Could you imagine??

Me, imagining: “Oh yes hi”- *turns to left and wipes out entire row of people on the right with my “backpack”. Turns to the right to apologize and wipes out the other half of Amtrak civilization.

Real charmer.

Reality: Take a seat by the door. Need as much time as we can get to find the exit.

Beach chair is spilling out of my row. It’s completely collapsed like an old, tired dog napping wherever he can, stretched across the aisle.

A man walking from behind me almost trips over the strap. He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t.

It’s getting dark, and I am trying to remember if they announce what stops we are approaching.

They don’t.

Perfect. I’ll just guesstimate when to get off based on our ETA.

8:31p

A guy with a lot of keys walks by. Each step jingling louder than the last. He loves those keys. You can tell. They really empower him.

So, here’s the thing: I didn’t exactly buy a ticket.

I’m NOT a train-riding hooligan!

I TRIED to pay!

Beforehand!!

I have the Amtrack App and my ride reflected as $0.00!

We chalked that up to Memorial Day?

Are Trains FREE on holidays?
How kind.

Also, last time I took the train (and paid)

Nobody came by to check my ticket.

So, I didn’t think much of it when my ride showed up as FREE-99

When jingling-key-man made his rounds back towards me, he looked at my “gear”, I’m sure clocked my sunburn and swollen ankles, and zeroed in.

“Ticket?”

Me: OH UHM, WELL I thought toda—-

Him: Do you have the App?

Me: Yes!!! YES I DO! *pulls it up and shows him useless QR code

I have a balance of $3.50 from the last trip

Tickets are $6.

Him: Peering down with pity at my entire life strapped to a beach chair: “Okay, you’re good.”

Me: ????

A woman is sitting across from me, smelling rather fragrant- if you know what I mean.

She is also asked to show her ticket, but doesn’t have one.

She doesn’t get kicked off either…

IS THE TRAIN ACTUALLY FREE ON HOLIDAYS??

A quick Google search away

And yet

Here I am- still unable to answer that question.

Somehow, like a salmon swimming upstream to get back to the place she once came from, I realize that we have arrived at my stop.

True to my hitck-hiker image, I wait for a ride over by the Taxi pickup lane. Boys drive right in front of the train station sign for Old Town. Laughing at the sight of me, attached like a hermit crab to the back of my beach chair galore.

We stop by the store for water on our way home.

In the parking lot

Augie explodes, “FIREWORKS!!!”

I look up, and through a perfect little clearing between buildings and trees, we see the crackle of golden lights sprinkling across the sky.

Followed by green. Then blue. Then green again.

A tribute, to the colors of our beach chair.

I look at August- he is smiling.

At four and a half years old, this is the first time he has witnessed fireworks without crying due to the thunderous sounds.

We gaze out the window together

Grinning like the CVS parking lot fools we are-

at the fireworks and at each other.

We are holding hands.

My mind cues up Kelly-O’ke:

“Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, you’re Aphroditeeeee….

She’s so HIGHHHHHHH High Above Me
She’s so lovely…”

By the time we arrive home, Augie is softly snoring on my shoulder, his little fingers intertwined in mine.

Our cherished beach chair, grinning up at me from the trunk, exhausted from the journey, but like me, exuding a quiet sense of pride.

Beach chair/backpack/tote bag/purse & fireworks

Wishing you an all-in-one carry on, plus fireworks, and a quick reminder that you’re Cleopatra. or Joan of Arc. Maybe even Aphrodite,

xX kaylen alexandra Xx

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Thank you for reading Dear People Pleasers! My letters are free, but if you’re interested in making a gal feel like Aphrodite- I’d love for you to share your wildest luggage experience in the comments, click the little heart at the bottom of this page, restack a line that meant something to you, or be a doll and do all THREE! 😆

Otherwise, you may upgrade to paid. That works too. 👀