Associated Press - Boothbay Harbor, Maine

Insolent shop owners, armies of bloodthirsty ticks, rabid dogs, chronic alcohol abuse, ugly children, and attempted murder in a picturesque tourist town on the coast of Maine....

One fine summer day I was in the shop, dreaming of eating a whole pint of Chunky Monkey to myself. Or was it drinking a pint of Bushmills by myself? Both? No matter.

A mom and her entire tribe of squalling, disheveled, unruly, mucus-globbed children approached me. I noticed there was no dog. She reminded me of a scorpion with it's stinger hanging over its head. But that could have been the whiskey from the night before.

I noticed she didn't have anything to purchase in her hand. Her tribe, however, had loads of my products. Not only were they fighting over them, but the older two were getting that thick, green, germ-laden, bubbly nose-generated snot from the stroller-bound tykes all over the products. It looked like a fun game until you realized it was like dipping my products into a vat of pure typhus extract.

The "Mother" screamed at me from about 10ft away in the sharp manner of a Marine drill instructor. I didn't take it personally. I'm sure she yelled at everyone that way.

"HEY!"

I snapped to attention.

"Yes, ma'am. How may we help you today?"

"We want to go on a hike. Where should we go?"

A stuffed crab dog toy hit me in the back of the neck. One of her little monsters had made its way into my back office and was trying to commit suicide by gnawing on an electrical cord.

Oh Boy. Here we go. She was likely to lose half her children no matter where they went. Even a safe place like Coastal Maine Popcorn would pose dangers. Like Julie choking them one by one.

And why was their hike MY responsibility? Because she parked her car close to my shop? Because I was the first store her Tribe invaded? Because I looked like a simp that needed some terror run down his spine?

No doubt I would be taking many, many figurative bullets in the name of Boothbay Harbor hospitality today.

"How long of a hike do you want to go on? Are you driving? Did you want to get to the water...?"

"UGH... I DON'T KNOW. NOT LONG. SOMETHING ALL THE KIDS CAN DO. DO YOU KNOW OF A HIKE OR NOT? WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY. WE HAVE TO BE BACK AT THE RENTAL SO I CAN WASH ALL THE LINENS AND SILVERWARE..."

"I think you should go to Cross River Preserve. It's short, gets you to the water, and..." I guided her wayward, crab-throwing, death-seeker back out on the floor and Buddy and Max followed him. The shop erupted into shrieking - half in utter joy, half in utter terror.

"MY KIDS ARE AFRAID OF DOGS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!?!"

"Lady, you are definitely in the wrong place..."

CLICK HERE AND SCROLL AROUND TO FIND THE CHILLING CONCLUSION OF “THE SCUMHAVEN JOURNAL INVESTIGATES - BOOTHBAY HARBOR.”

CLICK HERE FOR UNRESTRAINED FOPPERY: https://mailchi.mp/twosaltydogs/the-salty-paws-february-2024-7226208

CLICK HERE FOR UNRESTRAINED FOPPERY AUTOMATICALLY DELIVERED EVERY MONTH: https://us8.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=0e5740287c6b4fe45247c8351&id=315369d469