swimmer girl - 'i love you'

it really sucked this morning when my sun was eaten whole by the shrill voice of a prissy high school swimmer girl.

she was standing close to my beach chair while bragging to her friends about some aussie swimmer guys that she had just met, and her nasal valley girl voice was larger than life.

it was as if her finger microphone was so far down the back of her throat that she was a human megaphone extolling the virtues for how 'blondes have it better'.

it was as if every one of her words was inside a bulbous pop-up comic book comment floating over her head, and each word was boxin' out my sunlight like shaq at a BALCO convention.

my pasty winter skin was cowering in the corner mumblin over-and-over, 'i need some sun... where is my sun... i thought hawaii is supposed to have sun... i need some sun...'

but she continued as if she couldnt hear me. in her best 'oh-my-god-these-pink-uggs-are-so-hot' voice, she proceeded to tell her friends (and the entire world around the pool) about her newly minted boy toys.

apparently she thought that they were so 'hot' and so 'nice' and so 'blond' and so 'into' her.

apparently i have more self restraint than i thought i had, because i didnt interrupt her diatribe by shouting 'so fuckin what' at the top of my lungs.

apparently everyone else around the pool had more self restraint too.

because she. wouldnt. shut. the. hell. up.

not even when her friends started giggle-squealing at each and every 'scintillating' detail.

thankfully i couldnt hear them anymore once i had begun holding my head underwater in the pool.

fortunately patience and discipline are a virtue(s), and my unborn tan had the last laugh.

everything was 'golden like butta' when my favorite breast-strokin bimbo got chastised for spending too much time bakin (at least not fakin) it out in the hot sun.

apparently her swim coach didnt want her 'screwin up her meet... and blowin her ride' all because of a lousy sunburn.

ah, to be young again.

the days of and varsity sports and 'make-or-break' athletic competitions.

the days of parents and team chaperones who think they know (and told you) right from wrong.

the days of meetin' and greetin' nubile young girls (and strappin young boys).

in otherwords, the days of potential that we (more often than not) squandered away.

i loathe that girl as much for her voice as her ability to experience all of those days and the unwritten future ahead of her.

yep, im a hater.

but at least (now) im a hater with a tan. ha!

gympumpkin makes a good point ~ anchored nomad had me at garbonzo beans and grapenuts ~ Thunder roadie's a reality genius