Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink

“What?”

I’m laying on the beach in Seaside Park. Katy doesn’t appear to be fucking with me, so I prop myself on an elbow and peer south: Penis. Of the middle-aged persuasion.

Then Speedo. Never thought I’d be so grateful for a Speedo.

As we’re recovering from the shock of such flagrant nudity on a non-nude beach, the guy begins walking determinedly in our direction, sunscreen in hand. No. We strategically avert our eyes and act as if we haven’t noticed. Until he is upon us, glaring sun behind his aged back, in all his Speedoed glory.

He quickly utters lots of German words that probably translate, most nearly, to “Will you please rub this sunblock on my back? I can’t reach. I’m German.”

I find myself speechlessly shaking my head with a dazed and horrified look in my eyes. Jackie glances from him to me and back, amused. Katy grudgingly says, “I’ll do it,” and stands up.

For the entire 30 seconds that she’s applying cream to the nude dude’s back, her expression is one of absolute disgust. Like a vegan confronted with freshly hacked pig flesh. Disgust to the nth degree.

“GermanGermanGermanIndecipherableGermanDankeGermanDanke.” This is obviously the reason he’s unaware that it’s not okay to expose your d at F Street. Fair. Maybe.

He returns to his blanket and lays down. On his back. Katy is bewildered.

She is also from England, visiting our fine shoals for the first time. Welcome to the Land of Enchantment (Jersey totally deserves it more than NuMex).