Campfires, better than sex

That is the official slogan from the newest roadtrip adventure, according to Sloganizer.net, anyway... (I wish I had gotten around to learning how to put links on my blog!!)

Last night was the roadsisters' first run in with the law. We were sitting on Carmel beach, innocently chatting away (with the now-empty bottle of wine and cups safely hidden!) when two dark and mysterious looking characters start walking down the hill towards us.
"Is someone walking towards us?" I ask, not nearly as worried as I should be for 4 twenty-something girls sitting alone on a beach at 11:30 at night.
"Yeah, there's two of them," someone responds.
As they get closer a peace offering is made: "Carmel P.D." Did I say peace offering...?
"Hi, officer..." I begin to say.
"Good evening girls. Umm, a couple of things this evening..."
"Are campfires not allowed?" I jump in. "Because we really, really looked when we got here and I didn't see a sign or anything at all..."
"Well, let me tell you a couple of the rules... are you from around here?"
"No, Arizona," I say pointing at myself, "South Carolina," I say pointing at my roadsister, Honey.
"Oh. Okay. Well all fires are supposed to be out by 10:30 pm," he explains.
"... oh. Well I guess we kinda missed that one!" I add in. (It's 11:30 pm and I, Flakey, have consumed no less than a half of a bottle of wine.)
"Yeah," he sort of laughs, looking at his watch. "Also, all fires are supposed to be kept south of 10th street. So how long are you going to be here for?"
"Umm, well, we'll go now, I guess...?" I say as I begin to throw sand on the fire. I am being aided by my sister and her friend who are using a newly found pizza pan as a shovel.
"I mean, how long are you in town for?" he asks. Clearly I misunderstood the question.
"Oh. Until Friday. We're leaving on Friday." I clarify.
"Okay. Well, you have a nice night!" he adds as he walks away, also telling us that we were doing a "fine job" of covering the fire with sand.
"Thank you, officer!" we all add as he walks away. I'm pretty sure he did ask us at one point in the coversation if we were over 18. So in turn, 4 college graduates look at him and explain that, "Oh, yeah. We're all done with college, too." Because he was, you know, barely over 19 himself...?

Little did Mr. Carmel P.D. know that he was leaving evidence of stolen goods [the wood] to burn on the beach... sucker...!

Apparently, however, the couple in the Jeep parked next to my car hadn't gotten the memo on the slogan of the evening...