Vanna White Wishes & Dirty Myrtle Dreams
March 3, 2014
This is Myrtle Beach — trust me, it’s true.
By Caroline Cahill. Follow her on Twitter at @CtheresaC.
“Show me your puppies!” from an 8-year-old boy? Yes, and to make it worse, he was standing with his grandparents on Ocean Boulevard. It didn’t seem completely out of place for Myrtle Beach, especially considering I was a 14-year-old girl, buzzed up on Sea Mist wine coolers, and getting ready to cruise the boulevard in the back of a friend’s Honda. It was the new Millennium and Myrtle Beach was selling an image to tourists, but locals could buy it, and I did when I was a teenager.
After college I vowed not to return to Myrtle Beach; the tourist’s dream couldn’t be my reality, but life has led me back here. I’m an English adjunct at the local university. While I’ve reclaimed Myrtle Beach as home, there are days when the humidity isn’t what chokes me; sharks in jars, rebel flags, and black tar heroin taint…
View original post 1,316 more words