Let’s go to the beach, each
Let’s go get away
They say, what they gonna say?
This Nicki Minaj song was sung every 5 seconds on our way to Rockaway Beach. (Guys, I didn’t know those were the lyrics. Oops. I’m THAT girl singing it wrong.)
It started at the dorm when Cody busted through the door singing it and firmly planting it in Jaime, Annie, and I’s minds.
It was there in Duane Reade when we picked up snacks.
It was there on William St.
It followed us on our 40-minute train ride.
And I loved every minute of it.
On the train, when we weren’t busting out in musical-esque singing, we chatted about how ridiculous we looked wearing bikinis while all of the other people on the train were donning suits. Actually, I think gloating would be a more appropriate word.
Upon arrival, we made our way to an open spot, which wasn’t hard to find considering it was Monday. Once there, we probably tried for about 5 minutes to lay our towels down. It was so windy that day, nothing would stay put. Sand was in our eyes, our mouths, and I’m pretty sure there’s still some in my purse.
Though we had to deal with wind and a few other unforeseen problems, the beach was really peaceful and a great way to get away from the hustle and bustle.
Great, now that song is stuck in my head again.