Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Wave

(To my three loyal readers:  This one is for thereddressclub and it's one you've already read.  Never fear, though, there's a new post right below this one.)

This is a “then boyfriend/now husband” story and it takes place, oh, about 20 years ago. 

Then boyfriend/now husband and I had been dating for a while, probably a year or so, and we were taking our first real vacation together.  Another couple invited us to go to Mexico with them…or maybe we invited ourselves…oh well, who can remember a detail like that?  No matter, the other couple ended up canceling on us anyway.  (Interesting to note, their marriage did not last, ours did.  Hmm…I bet they wish they would have gone on that vacation with us after all.)

Anyway, we’re in Mexico and we’re having a great time together. 

We’re lying on the beach one day just enjoying the sun and each other.  It’s summer so it’s hot, and after a while of sitting in the sun, I decide to head to the ocean to cool off for a bit.

I frolic around for a while and then decide to head back to shore.  I do one final dip in the water, stand up, and start walking toward then boyfriend/now husband.  I’m a good distance from him, but as I pop up I notice him waving at me.

How cute, I thought, I’ve barely stood up and he’s waving at me already.  I haven’t even taken a step toward him yet.  Wow, and he’s waving, like, a lot.  Oh, how nice.  I think I’ll wave back.  So I do.  And he keeps waving.  Okay, this is a little weird now.  I mean, he waved to me, I waved back, shouldn’t we be done now? 

But he keeps on waving.  Then I notice him doing this funny movement.  His hands are at his sides, and then he pulls them up to his chest.  Hands down, hands up.  Hands down, hands up.  What on Earth is he doing?  It’s like he’s pretending to pull something up. 

Oh…dear…gawd…no!  You know where I’m going with this, right?  I look down, and sure enough, my bikini top is down.  And it’s not just a little bit down.  It’s All.  The.  Way.  Down. 

There’s no recovering from something like this. I mean, I can’t just shrug it off and pretend it didn’t happen.  I have to, some how, some way, pull my top back up.  I don’t care how smooth you are, people, there is simply no graceful way to pull up a soaking wet bikini top. 

With as much grace and dignity as I can muster (which is pretty much none), I lower myself back into the water, fix my wardrobe malfunction, stand back up, exit the water, walk over to then boyfriend/now husband, and collapse into a fit of laughter.    

I was suddenly very glad that other couple didn’t come with us after all!

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