I was walking the beach the other day, minding my own business and looking for snook.
I found a spot that was holding quite a few fish, so I started casting.
I caught and released a few fish and continued casting.
I heard a noise, looked up and saw a guide boat moving in.
"This is the same bastard who moved in on me last year," I thought.
Indeed it was.
It was a fat guide and three paying morons who couldn't have caught a fish on their own.
The guide motored his boat to within a cast of beach and anchored right in front of me. He hopped overboard with a net container of live white bait. He bait a hook, cast it out and then hand the rod up to his client. He repeated the procedure for the other two. He then started tossing out handfuls of live bait for chum. Some landed within a foot of me.
What gall! What a dipspit!
Because he had a captain's license, the idiot therefore had the right to move in on people.
While I stood on the beach, chin hitting the sand in wide-eyed disbelief, I watched amazingly and some of the cast baits almost hit me in the foot.
He stayed long enough for his anglers to catch a few fish, then started the outboard engine and sped off -- oblivious to anyone else fishing around him. Oh, yeah, the moron waved as he sped off.
I wish I knew his address so I could send him a letter of apology for fishing his private spot.
How dare me to trespass.
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