Its official, folks! I no longer use sunblock for sun protection when I sunbathe at the beach. Instead I have switched to unrefined coconut oil. And I have to say my skin felt a lot cooler when I was at Revere beach this past Saturday morning! Also, while there, I noticed an Indian guy sunbathing and canoodling with this really fat, white girl...a mistake that I, of course, will never make no matter how wishful I might be for female company. But it was a refreshing change to see an Indian fella in proper beach wear at a non-India beach. What else? A bunch of kids kept kicking up sand playing football (aka soccer) nearby. That was really annoying! Then this big Indian (Sri Lankan?) family showed up fully dressed, parked themselves plumb in the middle of some beauties and started laying out all this food. Two of the beauties, seemingly annoyed, promptly picked themselves up and moved away. The family, of course, looked like they didn't give a sh*t. I am not as cynical of these things as I used to be but its hard to ignore something like that.
Anyway, these days I observe and, for the most part, forget. Besides I was having a good time texting this girl I had met online a month ago. We flirted steadily for a while. She was at a pool near her house with a friend and sent me a picture of her bikinied bottom, which melted my very sensitive little Indian heart like right away. Then my water ran out and I decided to leave. The beach was loud and was starting to get really packed (Indians or not). But I am not really sure if I want to go to Revere beach again. Like the beaches in Hull and Wollaston, the beach had a lot of noise from nearby passing traffic and the occasional siren and I couldn't concentrate on a book I had brought along. Were it not for the fact that I had had to attend Allen's bachelor party that evening, I would have gone some extra miles and hung out at singing beach or the Cape instead, where one mostly hears nothing but the squawk of gulls, the crashing surf and maybe the occasional tittering of some insect in dune grass or perhaps the distant boom of a foghorn.
I had actually gotten ready for Allen's bachelor party the previous Saturday evening. I guess I was being an eager beaver! No harm done. Now I stop at The Living Room across from the waterfront a couple of times a month for dinner on my way home. So we met up there, dined outside under the sun and drank "a bit". I stuck to martinis while the rest of the guys went with beer. Allen mixed it up though. David wanted to go across to Tia's but, throughout dinner, we had all been observing a steady stream of swell looking women making their way into the Living Room's lounge. So we decided to go hang out inside in the lounge. I was especially glad since I am not exactly fond of Tia's.
One of my neighbors had suggested Centerfolds. While the rest of the gang remained at The Living Room, David, Allen and I ended up at the strip club. At Centerfolds, David got upset. He was upset because he had just paid a girl $40 to do a lap dance for me and I wasn't interested. She had a trim body but I didn't find her attractive. Trust me. I have a big appetite but I couldn't see myself paying a girl to strip for me. So I sat at a table at the back of the bar and contented myself by watching girl after girl pole dance while David and Allen went upstairs. No idea what was upstairs and I didn't see those two again that night. I had enough visuals to keep me occupied.
While everyone else was drinking and letting go, I was analyzing. Gluteal folds, for instance. At my gluteal junction, the point where my caboose meets my hamstrings, my hammies integrate smoothly into my glutes courtesy of my choice of training. But a lot of these girls, despite their acrobatics and athletic look, had gluteal folds of varying depth. Some of the girls looked real young. Probably college students. Their dance movements were clinical and obligatory. The only exciting movements happened when the panties came off for a full frontal. When that happened, I could have sworn I was able to smell...money. At the end of the day, it was a job and the girls went through the motions no different than they would have had they been employed at some "it pays the bills" desk job. I also noticed a lot of black and asian guys sitting at the bar right in front of the stage. One black dude was giving away bill after bill to every girl who danced.
Yaaawwn! It was 1.30 in the morning and some of the girls had been asking me all along if I wanted a dance. Even though I had had only 5 drinks or so all evening, I didn't feel like drinking or hanging out anymore. Plus I had a vague notion that it was only a matter of time before some bouncer figured I wasn't being very profitable to the club. And I like leaving places with my dignity intact. So I stumbled out and caught a cab home.
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