A Horrible, Horrible Trip To The Beach

 Just south of where my cousins lived was Panama City and just south of Panama City was where they were keeping the Gulf of Mexico. I had been to the beach and ocean many times but had never had such an eventful and horrifying trip. The city was nice and touristy with lots of cool gift shops and even an alligator farm themed one where you could buy real alligator body bits. I, of course, did that. I still have the head of a little alligator in my house. Tacky? mayhaps – Awesome? Indubitably. After I was taken in by the glitz of the glamorous trade in preserved reptile limbs we went to a squeaky sand beach. The sand squeaked like a chewed balloon as you walked across it which was neat at first and then for those that hate that sound it got a little annoying. When we were at the beach bathrooms to rinse off the sand is where the day turned into a memorably scarring reminder of the importance of personal grooming and appropriate clothing. The first jolt came from a very pregnant forty-something Hispanic woman who was wearing the most minuscule of bikinis and had not been overly diligent in keeping her personal fur within the bounds of the garment. It was a good taste massacre that made me a little queasy. Not ten minutes later in the same area while waiting for the girls to do whatever it takes girls forty-flipping forevers to do in the bathroom a dude that looked like he was in his sixties, over tan and over hairy, walked out of the men's side wearing what looked an awful lot like nothing. I gave a quick double look to make sure I had not seen what I thought I had not seen and sure enough there it wasn't. I engaged in an involuntary triple take to discover why if he was naked his private parts were so oddly colored and it was revealed that my free spirited friend was not entirely naked, he was wearing a green condom and was carrying his shorts in his hand. I think this would be one of those times that you would kind of want to know why a guy like that was thusly attired but then when you heard why you may be horrified and want to un-hear it, but it cannot be unheard. In fifteen minutes waiting for the girls I had seen much too much and spent the rest of the day joking about what had assaulted my visuals that day on the beach. In many more trips to the beach in my life I have never in that span seen the equal of those specimens let alone in a quarter of an hour.