The new swing suit was squeezing me balls, scrotum if you prefer, while sitting in the cute blue Lands End beach chair, that bai di guay fucked up me lower back. I spent the time reading one of our shoppers with newspaper airs.
The music on Saturday came blasting from some cheap ghetto blaster, while on Sunday it came from a pro disco equipment. Loud as hell on that radio station Z 93, with the same crap: Laoe, Barreto, Harlow, Marc Anthony, it really stinks.
I hate them beaches. The glare is unbearable for me eyes, the noisy, ugly and fat riff raff natives with their hollering, gregariousness, lack of respect of private space...hanging two feet away occasionally from the shady spot we like.
But I had a nice surprise this time for the a first in my sexagenarian life. A public bathroom, actually two, not smelling of urea, sinks and toilets with running water, clean... and believe it or not TOILET PAPER!
Those trips to the beach with this surprise gives me some hope in humanity down here. I do not care if the per capita public debt is more than 14 millions or over 100,000 millions public debt and no Euro Zone to give us some loans with little interest.
Puerto Rico does it better! Finally, I could pass away happily, I can not believe it, a clean public toilet in a beach.
that is that