It's summer time and that means attempting to work on my tan. Well, I haven't had a noticeable glowing tan in probably a year. My complexion more so resembles Casper the Friendly Ghost. I went through two summers in a short time-- one when I went to Australia in February 2009 and one when I returned to the United States in July 2009-- and remained pale both times. After time in the sun, I turn a beautiful shade of tomato red. Then after a few days it turns into uncooked meat pink, then finally I go back to being a totally envious shade of vanilla frap. Once my limbs actually blended with the white bottom of the pool. It was scary looking down and seeing almost nothing. Cool magic trick though. Well, when it's sunny outside and I have the down time, I slather on my SPF 30 obsessive compulsive style as if it's a fashion statement. Every 15 minutes I must reapply to my face and shoulders. I also consume water like a fish with a drinking problem.
During this glorious time by the pool or in the sand at the beach there is an awful species that brings about an unpleasant and uncomfortable presence. The speedo wearing male. I know this attire is popular in Europe and they're beneficial to swimming speedy laps, but yuck. Everybody sitting around can see every curve and crack. Even young men who have chiseled abs and happen to be part of an extremely skilled sports team enabling them to have a glorious toned form need not show the outdoor community their man bits. As a woman you just can't help but shift your eyes to it. Sadly, and at the risk of sounding cruel, the worst are elder men. If they're married their wives, should maybe stop them at the door and say, "honey, sweetie, sugar lips, do not wear that nautical themed bikini bottom...please."
If you see a familiar elderly neighbor wearing a banana hammock at the pool, there's no mystery and no need to ask, "Hey Mr. Wilson, how's it hangin'?" because you can already see his answer will be "it's long, shriveled and hanging to the left." I'll be swimming in a lap lane and a male sporting a speedo will be standing over my lap lane preparing to jump in. I do graceful flip turns when those situations occur.
Another unpleasant aquatic situation is swimming with the hairy back male. More specifically, swimming with the species in the wave pool at the water park. You come up for air after a wave crashes over you and you're just surrounded by more hair than is on your young little girl head.
After I'm done barbecuing myself, in most cases, I have to walk through the locker room to leave the vicinity. Every time I enter the ladies locker room, I always have to enter slowly. Why? Because I know, for a fact--because it's happened 95 percent of the time--that I will enter in on a completely nude lady. I enjoy being naked just as much as anyone else, but I practice naked alone time as opposed to public naked time. Yes, it's a locker room and the purpose is to dry off and get dressed and I have those same body parts, but I always walk in on everything. Full frontal and usually untamed. The word is shocking. I'm just not prepared to see a naked ol' butt in my line of vision. Maybe the older you get the more comfortable you are with being naked like that. Maybe it should be considered a perk with getting older. Nobody will say anything about it or tell them to put it away. I know little kids love being naked too. Heck, I did from what I hear. That's not as shocking though. Maybe I'm taking a break from being publicly stark naked and I'll be back to that phase in years to come.
On that note, happy swimming. Remember to wear your floaties and keep your eyes averted.
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