I was in a park on a beach somewhere in Florida playing volleyball with some men and women, most of whom were quite good. At one point I bumped into one of my teammates, who somewhat reminded me of Beasley. We were going in opposite directions and I had to sit down to figure out which way we should be going. I was rather confused and I decided to draw a diagram showing how the players should move. On a piece of paper I drew a picture of the volleyball court and three lines to represent the lines of players. I had to redraw the diagram several times because I couldn't seem to get it right.
I was trying to determine exactly who served the ball each time and where the person went after the serve. I finally figured out which way to move, began playing again and found myself standing in the far right corner of the court just as a ball was hit toward me. I tried to hit it, but I just touched it, so it went out of bounds causing the point to go against my team. If I hadn't touched the ball, we probably would have received the point because the ball would have gone out of bounds by itself. I felt quite bad about that and I thought the other players probably thought I was losing the game for them, but no one said anything.
My turn came to serve. I was uncertain whether I could throw the ball up in the air and hit it overhand. I took a few practice shots hitting the ball overhand just to see if I could do it, but when it actually came time to serve, I hit the ball underhanded.
The game ended. I walked over to a small bench in an enclosure in a picnic area and sat down. I had been traveling around and felt quite happy and free, but I felt I needed to be using my time productively and I especially felt as if I needed to be writing something.
A tall woman walked over and spoke to me. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and was probably in her late 20s. She reminded me somewhat of Louise, Judith (a Dallas acquaintance) and Mary Circle (a woman I met in Chillicothe in 1980) at the same time. Her figure reminded me somewhat of Patricia Rogers (another Dallas acquaintance). She was wearing a white dress and her legs were tanned brown.
She spoke to me of an activity with which she was involved which was similar to surfing, only that some kind of kite-like wings were attached to the person trying to ride the waves. A person could fly about from one wave to another and sometimes fly quite high over the waves. The woman thought I might be interested in trying it, but it sounded rather scary to me.
I asked her what would happen if someone broke a leg or something like that. She said the person would still be able to fly from wave to wave until the person reached the shore. One would simply have to be careful. She said little danger was involved. It seemed interesting, but I was unsure I wanted to try. It seemed dangerous to me, although I did imagine in my mind what it would be like flying over the waves coming toward the shore.
As we talked, I looked down in my lap and noticed I was nude. My penis was also standing erect; I vainly tried to cover it. The woman also noticed and said, "That must be embarrassing."
I told her it was sometimes embarrassing; I tried to cover myself, but she didn't seem to mind. After talking for a long time, we stood and walked to a nearby tree. A gray lizard (which blended in with the tree's gray bark) was climbing down the tree; I pointed the lizard out to the woman and said, "Well, you've probably seen a lot of those things down here."
Looking more closely at the tree I noticed several more gray lizards climbing around on it.
The woman and I walked back into the enclosure which, although it had no walls, had a large cement sliding door over a doorway. I pushed the door back and forth for a minute.
I wanted to kiss the woman, but I didn't think kissing her was appropriate because I thought I had become celibate. We talked a while longer. Finally she left, but she soon returned with another fellow older than she. They walked around outside the enclosure together; seeing her with the other fellow upset me. I called out to her and said I was leaving, even though I really didn't have to leave.
I had the feeling she hadn't known I was still here until I called out. My calling seemed to surprise her, but apparently my leaving didn't make much difference to her. I gathered together a stuffed blue back pack and a sleeping bag I had with me. I wanted to walk to the entrance of the enclosure so she could see I was really intending to leave.
She was about to get into a car with the man just as I reached the entrance where she could see me. I hoped when she drove by she would look my way and see me leaving, but she boarded the car and drove past me without even looking. I felt quite depressed because I was just going to leave without her knowing.
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