Girls, Girls, Girls!

OK, so there were a grand total of three girls, but they were all wearing bikinis and I was in their midst. Now this is what living in California was supposed to be about! Sunshine, swimming pools and lots of exposed skin.

Of course, I mostly sat on my lounge chair reading a newspaper and trying to be cool about the fact that I was hanging out on the pool deck with three woman in bikinis. And it was important to be very cool, because two of the women in question were with guys who were more than capable of pummeling the crap out of me or holding my head underwater until I had not choice but to find out whether I have gills.

Oh yea, I was cool.

OK, I am not cool. I'm a dweeb. I would say dork, but Heather B. Armstrong has turned the use of that word into a high art. So, I was too dorky to even be a dork. I was dweebie. And the dweebiest part of all is I'm still all smiley about it.

I went out to the pool Sunday afternoon to catch some sun and just enjoy the day. Now, ordinarily, I am not the type of person to use the pool area if other people are there. I'm just far too self conscious for that. But yesterday was different somehow. Maybe it was the after effects of the tequila from Saturday, but I was feeling BOLD! Translation: The G-man's bold is only slightly less timid than a lamb at a coyote convention.

There were two young couples at the pool. Or I assumed they were couples. There was this whole boy-girl, boy-girl thing going on, but the guys were totally not drooling over the ladies in their skimpy swimwear. So maybe they weren't couples. Either that, or they were married. Sometimes it's tough to tell when people virtually ignore each other.

Anyway, I sat up camp in a lounge chair a good ways away on the pool deck and proceeded to read the newspaper.

Now, who the fuck reads a newspaper at a swimming pool? Well, a dweeb does, that's who. I just cannot lay out in the sun. I go stark raving mad in about 5 minutes. I need something to read, I need my portable CD player. I need something to keep my mind off the fact that I'm just laying out in the sun.

So anyway, I'm reading my paper and a short time later a young woman -- a third woman who materialized out of nowhere -- walks up to me and asks if anyone is using the chair next to me. But my mind did not actually register the words. I am not used to women walking up to me and starting a conversation, at least not unless they have to, like in the workplace. At work, I can talk to the fairer sex. Out in the wild, I mostly drool on my shoes. I said something brilliant I'm sure like "Huh?"

So the young lady repeated her queary, and I was able to somehow reply that the chair was hers if she wanted it. Hell she could have my chair too if she wanted it. Don't say no to a woman in a bathing suit, that's my motto!

I was actually a little relieved when she started to move the chair away from it's position right next to my chair. The relief was further magnified when she removed her cover up to reveal that she too was wearing a bikini. So it was a good thing she didn't sit too close, because there was a real risk I might burst into flame if a woman in a bikini were sitting next to me. Yes, there was a pool a mere 6 feet away, but I would be reduced to ash long before I could reach the water.

To further reveal my dweebiness, serveral times I ended up picking up my cell phone to return text messages to my good friend Brat and my daughter. Brat was really impressed that I was telling her about the women in the bikinis. And I'm sure the bikini clad women were impressed that I could read, text message and grown hair on my shoulders but not on the top of my head.

Women eat that shit up, people!

The two young couples left after a while, and then I got really bold! I took my tanktop off outdoors, in broad daylight, in a public place to climb into the hot tub. OK, so I made sure the brunette who had talked to me earlier was in the pool and looking 180 degrees in the opposite direction. But still, that's risky behavior for me!

I think I need to drink tequila more often! I get down right rowdy for days on tequila!

There's no big payoff here folks, no big move on my part, or the brunette's part. We chatted a little for a while. Some near flirtation if you will. You see, I never really learned how to flirt. Apparently these was this whole thing in grade school about pulling pigtails that I someone missed the initiation on, and I've been behind ever since. SunGroove Theory has been trying to explain it too me, but I'm a dweeb and the learning is not easy.

Just ask Brat. We've known each other for seven years, and I've almost worked up the nerve to ask her out on a date! OK, so we live several thousand miles apart, which has been a bit of an impediment. But that whole fear of rejection is a bitch. So I'm taking it slow. But, any day now I might break down and tell her I think she's neat!

Or is that too over the top?

Women
Bikinis