I believe there are two types of women in the world.
Women who wear bikinis where there isn’t any water, and women who won’t.
It seems that currently, my school is populated with the former. I think it has something to do with the recent bout of beautiful weather. Don’t get me wrong, I get my own weird urges when the sky is blue. At the first peek of sunshine, my impulse is to tear my pants off and run shrieking around the baseball diamond. Instead, I channel this impulse into smiling like an idiot most of the day.
The concentration of people afflicted with this sort of summer insanity seems much higher at college. The students are going bonkers. There are girls willfully afflicting themselves with sunburns, folks barbecuing at all hours, cheerful frisbee-ites spilling wine on themselves while lunging to catch the disc. It’s all madness, I tell you.
The biggest difference between the rainy season and the sunny season is the aforementioned Bikini Walkers. It seems to me to be a whole class of women, they who put on a skimpy bottom and stroll around campus, even though the nearest beach is an hour and a half away. It baffles me, quite frankly. Part of me is annoyed that all of these hot young thangs are appearing, wearing triangles of fabric they can barely fit a boob in, and I am clomping down the walkways with my schlumpy t-shirts, size eight booty and fuzzy feet. I won’t lie and say there isn’t a modicum of jealousy there. Still though, a large part of me (the ninety three year old woman part) just wants these tramps off her lawn. It’s obnoxious to trip over mostly-naked sprawlers and run smack into virile young males who can’t watch where they’re going because their eyes are stuck firmly to the ass of Susie Sunbather. Not to mention the giggling it gives rise to. Always, with the giggling! And the half-enunciated phrases that they crow at each other in their sun-crazed delirium.
“Aw muh gaw, I am soooooooooo hungreh, seriouslehhhh.”
It all makes me want to stand on our concrete patio and scream, “PUT SOME DAMN PANTS ON. IT’S ONLY APRIL.”
But who am I to deny the people their jubilation? I’ve been dreaming of the sunshine for months, and now that it’s here, it feels good. It’ll only last another three or four days (if that) and so how can I judge these girls for walking around with bandanas on their butts? I may as well applaud their bravery.
Granted, I’d be more likely to do said applauding if I was sure the bikini-wearing was out of bravery and gratefulness for the sun, and not some sort of misguided plea for attention.
A girl just walked past my window and shrieked, “AW MY GAAAW, my ass gah sooooo burned todehhh.”
Screw applauding. Fetch me my cane.