September 17, 2012, Washington, DC: The three King brothers opened King’s Kitchen in June on Connecticut’s Southport Beach. It’s a tiny shack with fish tacos and lobster rolls on the menu, Chuck Berry and Johnny Cash on the playlist, and Adirondack chairs and picnic tables on the sand. It’s a spot where books are strewn about tabletops inviting customers to stick around. Not that we needed an excuse to linger last week during my first visit to King’s Kitchen. On a day like Tuesday with a sharp view clear across the water to Long Island, it was easy to let time slip away.
My mother and I kayaked to lunch that day. We could have easily walked down Pequot Ave. to King’s Kitchen, but we opted for the long way instead, paddling out of Southport Harbor and around the bend to the beach on Long Island Sound. We figured the paddle might be one of our last of the season before the Sound turned colder and the big sailboats in the harbor were lifted from the water. We were determined to let summer linger, so we took our sweet time, then enjoyed a sweet lunch.
We failed to notice that as time slipped away, the tide did too. So distracted were we by our lunch and literature that we barely noticed the water draining out of the tub.
We noticed, of course, when it was time to go and we discovered our boats suddenly much farther from the water’s edge than we’d left them. We dragged those kayaks nearly halfway home before they finally began to float.
It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re miles from Monday.