Five of us had just finished dinner at Ross’ Grill and were meandering back to the West End of Provincetown, soaking up the colorful vibe of the crowd on a warm July night.
Next to the building that once served as a fire station, a woman wandered into the street from the alley. She held a tiny flashlight in her hands, clearly in search of something. She stared at the ground while crowds of people passed obliviously by.
“My daughter’s key to her bike lock,” she said. “She had it before dinner, but now it’s gone.”
The five of us lit our iPhone torches and joined in the search. We scoured the area around the bikes, nudged pockets of sand out of our way, but had no luck.
Within a few minutes, a man pulled up on his bike with a tool to cut through the cable. “Well done!” the woman said, as the man held the clippers aloft for all to admire.
And admire we did, as we said goodbye, smiling to ourselves about a quest shared with strangers on a summer night. —T. Kim Cromwell, Provincetown
Readers are invited to send their own mini-stories (word limit: 200) about funny, illuminating, only-on-the-Outer-Cape moments to [email protected] for consideration for “Incidentally.” We hope this will become a place for recording memorable snippets overheard.
