Tuesday, November 09, 2010
When I first moved to Pensacola many years ago, I didn’t know anyone. Being friendless and starting over is a hard path to walk especially for a young social butterfly. Quickly, I learned the path apparently meant for me was one leading to the beach because living in Maine all those years made beach going and suntans a novelty item and one I never got the hang of doing. When I discovered my lily white skin could turn brown, I immediately had a new mission.
The beach closest to where I lived was on Pensacola NAS (Naval Air Station), so that’s where I headed most days. One would think that with me going to the beach on base and all those stories about sailors and single, young girls, I would have been approached a lot. No, I wasn’t ugly! I was tall, thin, tanned, had long dark hair and wore next to nothing for a swimsuit. The lifeguard would rate the different ones I wore with his favorite being the black one, but not even the lifeguard with what little bit he flirted with me, ever actually engaged me in a conversation. I often wondered what was wrong with me. Why did I seem so unapproachable?
Each day my ritual was pretty much the same. I had a "spot" I called my own and each day I would lazily soak up the rays with my body covered with baby oil. Because I wanted no tan lines on my back, I would unfasten my top when I would lie on my stomach. I couldn’t go topless for fear of the MP’s or else I most likely would have shed my top altogether. What I didn’t know, was that my activities were being very closely scrutinized by a group of sailors who were also regulars on the beach. As I lie basking in the sun, they watched and plotted on how to get me to stand up without my top. Boys will be boys!
One rather hot day while drifting in and out of sleep while I lie there pondering the complexities of life, all of a sudden I was drenched with ice water. This group of "rocket scientists" came up with the plan to throw an ice chest filled with ice water on me in hopes that it would make me jump up. Guess what? Their plan didn’t work! Curses foiled again! For some reason the second I was hit with that water, I froze. I know they must have thought I was dead. I lay there smiling to myself feeling flattered that anyone would go through so much trouble to see my bare breasts.
About a minute later after lying there motionless, I turned my head towards them. They were standing there dumbfounded and didn’t know what to say or do. I smiled and said to them, "If you wanted me to stand up, all you needed to do was ask me to stand up!" That thought apparently never even entered into the grand scheme of things. At that point, I stood up slowly and faced them. The lifeguard nearly fell off his chair laughing at the incident and the group of sailors stood there with their mouths hanging open. I know I could have been arrested, but trust me, the look on their faces was worth the consequences I would have had to pay. The sad part is I think I intimidated them because none of them ever dared to speak to me. What a bitch they must have thought I was for beating them at their own game!
Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the HUGE brass balls I developed at a young age.
All gibberish within ©2004-2010 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.