I attract a lot of attention when I don a swimsuit. A lot of unwanted attention. From guys. My trip to the pool last Saturday was no exception.
I was down at Orange Beach last weekend. My family and I. Getting a little r & r. I had taken my son to the condo’s pool early that Saturday morning. My hair was a briny, drown-rat mess from a dip in the gulf, and my skin, thanks to a thick coat of SPF 50 (and unfortunate genes), was the pale iridescent lavender-white of a low-grade opal.
See? And you thought I was exaggerating. You’d think the invisibility cloak of middle-aged mediocrity would shield me from the attention of strange guys, but that is simply not the case.
The fella that started it up with me last week… he was hot. He told me so himself. He said…
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