So all the seeds I'd planted were still pretty immature. And I was broke.
Yeah, I'd picked up a bunch of stuff when I went on that tree-chopping spree, but it was mostly wood and junk, which I didn't want to sell either because I figured I'd need it later or because Mayor Lewis would wonder what I was smoking if I thought it could sell. Sap and seeds weren't going to help me acquire the funding for if I crashed outside again. I needed a more effective method.
Maybe some more exploration was in order.
Still being sort of new here, I was scared to go anywhere that didn't look anything like modern civilization, for fear of getting completely lost. That excluded the paths that went both north and south of my property. That only left downtown, so I went there once again.
I looked to my right to notice that there was a beach. There was a beach, and I hadn't even noticed it. Well, hello, first destination of the day.
When I got down there, I saw what would make a huge spark in my mind.
To start, there was a long-haired man staring out at the water. That in itself was a bit jarring; I mean, this guy had long, flowy, prince-esque hair. To boot, he also wore a long red tailcoat and green pants, almost as if he was going to a ball or something. There was a purpose to this man's aesthetic. Basically, 10-year-old me would have absolutely fallen to her knees. 20-year-old me, though, wasn't quite having it. I wonder if 30-year-old me will absolutely hate the man, by this pattern.
I also spotted Sebastian at the end of a pier, also staring out at the water.
Smoking.
With all due respect (I mean, it's highly addictive, and quitting can be extremely difficult)… I could not date a smoker. At least not a smoker of cigars and/or cigarettes. My mother smoked all the time, so I believed I'd already inhaled enough secondhand smoke for one lifetime. Those little death sticks didn't make me feel great mentally as a result. I couldn't assume "I could change him", either, so the smoking probably wouldn't come to an end anytime soon.
No, while Sebastian and the long-hair were surprising to see, what made my mind spark had nothing to do with romance.
An older man was fishing off another pier. Right near what looked to be a bait shop of some sort.
I could get that bread I needed through fish. It was something that had never occurred to me!
I approached the little shack and looked around at the front. The one sign outside said "Fish." So I was a bit off, but the general idea still stood.
Slowly, I walked up to the door. I tried to open it quietly, as not to disturb the fisherman behind me. It was locked. I looked to the fisherman again and made the connection that more than likely, he ran the shop and wasn't open right now.
I went to walk away, but he then spoke to me.
"And who would you be?" he asked, looking up at me. "…Say, are you the new farmer everyone's on about?"
"That would… probably be me," I said with a nervous laugh.
"Call me Willy," said Willy, the fisherman. "And you?"
"Rachael," I said.
"You wantin' to get into fishing?" asked Willy. "I'm real glad to see it. You don't see people fishing often enough anymore. It's real underappreciated."
He then paused for a moment, as if in thought. He then reeled in his line and stood up.
"Hold on a sec," he said.
He then proceeded to walk to the door, unlock it, and go inside.
While he was in there, I took a look at Willy's gear and felt a bit of nostalgia. Basically, it was for those childhood days at that summer cottage I mentioned before, hookin' worms and reeling in nothing but bluegills (and a catfish one time). The way fish would suddenly start thrashing around, combined with their sharp fins, made me scared to ever hold them, so I always had an adult unhook them and throw them back. By the time I ever thought to wear gloves to combat this fear, I was too old to fish without a license. And yeah, boat cops could occasionally be seen on that lake.
License. Yeah, I needed to remember to ask Willy about that when he came out. Which happened to be the very moment I thought about it.
He came out holding what looked to be a bamboo (or some other wood) fishing pole. He… wasn't going to…
"Here," he said, holding the pole out to me. "That should get ya started."
"How much do you want for it?" I immediately asked.
"Not a thing," he replied, picking his own fishing pole back up. "Seein' a new person take on the art of fishing is enough payment for me."
"Cool," I said. "Thank you so very much!"
"Give it a cast, right here," said Willy. "…Well, go ahead!"
"Before I do, I meant to ask," I said. "Do I need to get a license to fish?"
"Not here, you don't," said Willy. "In the city, probably, but here, you're free to do what you please."
"Awesome," I smiled.
It took a bit, because it had been years since I'd last fished, after all… but in a minute or so, I'd made the cast pretty far out.
"Wonderful job!" said Willy.
"And now, we wait," I said.
And I waited for maybe ten or so seconds before I felt a tug. So much for sitting and thinking about things, I guess.
When I reeled it in, though… it was seaweed. While I looked at it in disappointment, Willy laughed.
"Don't let that get your hopes down," he advised me. "I've been doing this for years, and seaweed always rears its ugly leaves at me, too."
And that's how I got into fishing. I was so super excited the first time I caught an actual fish, a sardine. It seemed as if as soon as I started thinking about something, there was a bite. Never a dull moment.
I think I was even more excited, though, to head home that night and put all the fish I'd caught in the sale box. I mean, I was seeing gold upon gold coming up on my line today.
The next morning, I nearly choked on my own breath to find that I'd made close to 4000G.