|What could be nicer than a morning stroll along a beach |
named after America's first astronaut?
Although I had come across Fawlty Towers Resort on the Internet, I had forgotten about it. Thus, seeing the real Fawlty Towers came as a welcome surprise as we drove past on our way to Alan Shepherd Beach. When we saw that the Beach Park officials wanted $7 for parking, we made a U-turn and drove into the parking lot of Pizza Hut, where we had planned on having lunch. My wife entered the restaurant, and explained to the waitress that we wanted to eat there, but first we wished to take a walk along the beach, and promised to return in an hour or so. She assured us that this would be okay. So we headed off to explore the beach named after America’s first astronaut.
|Provided you don't step on this guy.|
After our walk, we returned to Pizza Hut. The moment we walked inside, I realized what we had obligated ourselves to. Several families with young children had joined their tables together, and while the parents ate and chatted, the children ran around and played. The parents occasionally shushed one of their kids when he or she shrieked, but for the most part, it seemed they had grown used to the yelling and screaming, and so they merely ignored the noise their children were making.
We sat down and ordered our pizzas, and while we enjoyed our sodas, we dug into our pockets, and pulled out our earplugs. These helped reduce the high-pitched noise to a manageable level, allowed us to carry on our own conversation, and saved our ears (and heads) from aching later on. When the families left, we removed our earplugs and finished our pizzas. As the waitress surveyed the disaster area, she called back to the kitchen such sentiments as, “At least the kids only drank water,” and “Can I go home now?” Once, while she carried dirty dishes and trash back to the kitchen, she stopped by our table. She sighed as she smiled at us. “I noticed you had your earplugs handy.”
“In all things, be prepared,” I told her.
|Our next home-away-from-home?|
After our lunch, we couldn’t help but contemplate Florida’s version of Basil Fawlty’s famous hotel. The management's Adults Only policy seemed inspired. Sure, we might miss the children's smiling faces, and the wondrous sight of them at play, but without the sounds of their jubilation, the resort promised peace and tranquility. Not only that, but should we need anything during our stay, the adjacent Adult Emporium promised an accessible and serene shopping experience. Sorry, Fawlty Towers, but this year's accommodations have already been booked. Perhaps next time we’ll consider you.