I don’t normally take pictures of people without either asking permission or them knowing it. The exception was when the IBMer and I took a girls-only vacation to Punta Cana last year. It was there I witnessed several disturbing things you just don’t want to see – beach no no’s if you will. First there was a pandemic of Russians wearing speedos. Followed by loads of ladies north of 60 going topless. I like to think I’m pretty tolerant of cultural differences, so that didn’t bother me too much, but this did:
Dude was right in front of our loungers. There was no escaping. Now you can be husky. You can be hairy. What do I care if I’m not errr…dating you? But for the love of god, please don’t spread eagle right in front of me. The saving grace was the liner in his trunks.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, we were treated to a little light yoga after mating season ended. And guess what happened next? That’s right, he let one rip. Neither loud nor silent, t’was one of those mid-range rumbles – the kind the possessor pretends no one can hear, but everyone does.
At the onset of the acoustics show, we admit defeat and make a bee-line for the bar, feeling quite justified in downing something fruity and fun. (BTW: Have you noticed the trend towards green margaritas these days?)
These memories still give me the willies. Have you ever been unable to escape inappropriate PDA on a trip?