Monday, April 25, 2011

Wet T-shirt? No contest.

There's a lovely secluded beach near the bed and breakfast I frequent on Ilha Grande, a spot where the water is clear and calm and so deep you can dive off the boulders surrounding the sand. It's pretty quiet in the mornings and afternoons but seems popular as a picnic spot for families in the afternoons. We were there mid-morning, with only a few other people around, and the sun was getting to be a bit hot. So we moved our towels to a shady spot just vacated by a group of tourists, and plopped down into the romantic scene. Almost immediately after we settled, two ladies in their early 50's appeared. They were slightly apologetic about intruding on what was obviously a cozy moment, proffering that "it's the only shade on the beach." But it being a public place, there didn't seem to be any need for apologies.


Her partner pulled a pair of swimsuit bottoms out of her bag and shuffled into them, pulling them and her skirt up simultaneously. Oh. Someone doesn't like underwear. Ok. Whatever. Then she whipped off her top, dangling side-nipplage at my husband and I while she hunted for her white tee-shirt which apparently is appropriate swim attire.

I'm riled.

Could she not have changed behind one of the myriad boulders around? Was a swimsuit top out of the question? MUST she change in front of my husband? And does she think we want to check out her well-preserved and probably-false lemons?

While I prudify, the ladies ask us to watch their stuff and I humpf. No words for the exhibitionist. I hope a monkey comes and runs off with her bag, because I'm sitting here with my husband on this beautiful, lovely beach and now all I can see in my mind's eye is a hanging brown tit.

Also, I know what is coming.
Flashers can't stand to be ignored.
Sure enough, she comes back, after a short swim, and tries to strike up conversation with us.
Chit chat.
In a transparent tee-shirt with all her God-and-surgeon given blessings poking out at us.

Now, I ask you, good ladies of the internet, how would YOU respond to such an image? Because my husband thinks I was rude to this woman when she strolled up with her headlights jiggling in my face...

(oh, and I WAS rude. I just feel it was justified. Turns out they were guests at our hotel, too, so we got to see a lot of her. But I didn't see any MORE of her, thank goodness...Also, in all fairness, my husband, lest you think ill of him, did admit that if a dude had been doing the same thing with me around he'd have been a bit worked up as well...)


anne said...

early 50s? did I read that right? not that 50+ is old ( I should know!) but seems like 20s behavior -- no offense to those of that age. ALtho there are folks who are that way their entire lives....
she prob thought you were attractive, the pair of you, and wanted both of your attentions....
(as long as you didn't hit her, reckon you weren't that rude, really)

stonepound0 said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
stonepound0 said...

At 50 I think they are called spotlights not headlights. Just so you know.

Anonymous said...

Sometimes it's just best to make a comment so they KNOW you noticed. Then there's no point to continue with the exhibition. I'm sure you could have thought of with a comment that could be taken two ways ... leave them wondering if it was a compliment or a slam. Glad you had a good time otherwise. Mom

Jennifer Morian Frye said...

Nice. Made for a fun blog post at least. : ) Also, I love the word "prudify".

My question is, was she American? We seem to have more hang-ups about nudity than, well, you live in Rio, you know this. : )