This was a terrible idea.

On Sunday, we had a break from shooting. I really wanted to go to Talbot St. down at St. Michael's and check out all those shops, but different people kept using the car the whole day, to go to the movies to see The Town, or to drive to Baltimore, so I never got a chance. What I ended up doing was tagging along to a local tiki bar on the water. And since we had no car, the five of us went by golf cart.

Cheeseburgers, tuna steak, crab balls. Free popcorn. Awesome drinks. I tried a local brew called St. Michael's. There was a dude playing guitar. Lots of dogs running around for us to pet. And we chatted with a cool bartender named Sarah. She helped us ask a guy if we could charge our golf cart off one of their outlets, and he said yes.

After drinking for a while, we rode back home in the golf cart. When I went inside, I noticed there was a giant hole down the front of my jeans. Like, if my underwear folded just right, you could see my dong. I think it happened when I almost fell off the golf cart on the way back. This was my only pair of jeans. Anyway, later on, I went outside and found Carl, Chris, and Priscilla getting ready to kayak in the bay. Chris and Priscilla were in a two-person kayak and Carl was in a regular one. As I pushed them off, Anne asked me if I wanted to kayak. I said sure. She set me up with a small kayak called The Loon. I was irrationally scared of tipping over, even though the bay is like only about 8 feet deep. As Carl Chris Priscilla paddled way out toward the ocean, I went around in circles and realized my legs were going numb. So I grabbed on to a dock on someone else's property, got the feeling back in my legs, and paddled against the current back to Waterhole Cove. Then I pulled my shit up and went back inside. I enjoyed kayaking. I'd do it again. But could I get like a kayak that has like things on the side so it doesn't tip over? I would TOTES go in that.

That night, after an amazing steak dinner and whipped cream/berry dessert, we took the golf cart back down to the cool bar. This time, there was like seven of us. When we got there, it was empty and they were closing up, but Sarah invited us to hop into her van and come with her to another bar in St. Michael's. Four of us went. It was awesome. We met a lot of strange and interesting people and got a brief glimpse into the quiet night life around here. I drank another local brew called C-Street. And when I asked Sarah how one might go about getting a shot of a deer (for the movie), she drove us on to her friend's property and told us she sees "hella deer" there any time she comes and offered to hook it up for us to shoot there. She also bought us shots and arranged a ride for us halfway through the evening in the town's "rape shuffle" van, even though it was the guy's day off. Sarah is the absolute coolest.

Brett would later tell me that he's just gonna cut the deer shot because it's not a priority and he's still worried about the schedule. Which sucks, because it would've been cool to meet up with Sarah again and stick Marco in a field by himself, drenched in deer piss and surrounded by salt licks.

At the end of the night, Mike and Ian, back from their mysterious Baltimore excursion, came to pick the four of us up in the 2-door Cobalt. And to make sure we all fit, Ian rode home in the trunk. It was a cool button for one of the best days eva.

-Diego