Biker Man to the Rescue

Yesterday my sister asked me to write down a funny story we've had during a family vacation. For one of her classes she had to take this piece and write about the same story but from a different point of view and with a different tone/voice. (Sounds pretty cool actually). This is the story that came to both our minds, and I thought I should share it, or at least post it so its recorded somewhere. Here goes:

It started out like any other family vacation, loading up the car with plenty of snacks, sleepy kids, and the much debated-over sand toys that my dad felt we teenage kids were too old for. Once we got to the lake though, everything melted away, arguments were set aside, stresses forgotten, and we were all excited with the promise of a day full of skiing, tubing, and knee boarding. Well, that "promise" was short lived. We got out of the docking area and started to look for an area to ski when our boat decided it wanted to go no further. Who was out on the lake at this gastly hour of day to save us? Yep, no one. Finally a boat comes by and my dad is able to hail a ride back to the marina to buy a new battery, and when he came back the next few minutes went like this: dad instals the new battery and decides to go for a ski ride to test it out; after his ride we turn the boat off to let him back in; the boat doesn't want to play anymore. Yep - deja vu. I think our boat was having "its time of the month" that weekend, it was showing all the classic signs: temperamental attitude, desire to sleep, mood swings. Yes, this was a bad day for Desert Liz, our boat. So naturally, knowing it was going to be a while, we kids break out the snacks and begin lining up Ritz crackers all the edge of the bough of the boat and sprayed them with squirty cheese, until there was an edible boarder around our boat. We then proceeded to eat them all, and go swimming. We had been in these situations before, enough to know how to still have a good time while we were waiting for another living being to enter close enough to our vicinity for us to flag them down. Problem was, when we'd call and wave for help, and the other boats would think we were just saying hi, so they'd wave and go speeding by. Finally we were able to flag down a sea-doo rider and asked him to go to the boat that had just passed us and ask if they would give us a tow into the dock. Let me pause here and paint you a little picture. This wasn't your average sea-doo rider. This was a portly, Harley Davidson of the sea, Santa Clause type sea doo rider; complete with bandana, stoggie, and biker gang. Somewhat like this:

He calmly takes out his cigar, surveys our boat and reply's "This could probably tow you." My not-so-slightly caught off guard father tried to persuade him otherwise, but Harley Santa was already tying us up together, and the adventure was underway. What a sight to behold. Here's "Harley D." puffin on his cigar, just hanging out while his buddies circle our boat like a group of vultures, while the rooster tail of water squirting out of his sea doo lands right in the middle of our boat full of high-pitched girly screams and giggles while we run around mopping up water with beach towels and bailing water with the sand toys that won the argument that morning,trying to keep the water out. Needless to say, sand toys were always brought along on trips from then on.