I got home about 5:30 yesterday, another blistering day. A little background: My home is the second floor of a Victorian carriage house which faces west into the setting sun on a narrow side street in a nineteenth-century neighborhood. Worried about a bunch of potted plants in the direct sun, I grabbed the watering pot and went out on the upstairs porch to give them a drink.
While I was out there a beautiful thing occurred in the person of a young guy on a bicycle. I would peg him at anywhere from 13 to a youngish 15. He came from the north, cresting a small hill and coasting past me. The kid wore nothing but an orange Speedo bikini. flip-flops.and a white helmet. A towel hung around his neck. He was wet all over and his moist skin glistened in the sun. Our public pool remains closed, so he must have been visiting a friend who has a back-yard pool. He was likely hurrying home for supper.
Sailing past without looking up at the balcony, he braked for the stop sign at the bottom of the hill and glanced both directions a couple of times. Smart guy, I told myself. He's checking the traffic, which is typically light in this neighborhood of old houses and mature trees. But what happened next changed my thoughts. Instead of proceeding through the intersection, he stepped off the bike, put the kickstand down, and treated me to an amusing little performance.
He took another quick look around. Then with his left hand he grabbed the Speedo's waistband and pulled it forward. The other hand dove into the gap and thrashed around inside the Speedo for a second. Then he released the swim suit, mounted up and pedaled rapidly away. So, all those "looks" were intended to assure himself (mistakenly) that nobody was watching.
I thought of all sorts of funny things I could have yelled at him while he adjusted his adolescent junk in the confines of the wet bathing suit, but of course I remained silent and let him think he had rearranged his damp assets in complete privacy.
It was a nice little moment of unexpected entertainment.
Thunder Cloud
Almost missed this one due to getting out of the habit of checking this site. But this tale is a beaut. Me, I kept thinking about it and had to come back and read it again. Then the picture that the writer paints in his conclusion is hilarious, kid standing by bike at stop sign, hand stuck down inside his bathing suit, dude dealing with the post-swimming discomfort of his treasures in belief nobody sees him. Nice one.
ReplyDeleteLovely bathing suit.
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