The girl in the golden suit
Today’s topic is beauty, brought on by the fact that Cleopatra walked into the pool room down at the local fitness club this morning. I was backstroking my leisurely way down the middle lane, watching the ceiling tiles pass by in succession over my head and pondering the nature of liquid reality, when what should pass by the corner of my eye but an upside-down masterpiece of nature, garbed, if one may stretch the word, in a gold metallic bikini of unusually finite dimension.
I did a double-splort, coughed, recaptured my stroke and continued on, trying madly to ignore her. Good luck with that.
It’s not like the 24-hour fitness place isn’t normally filled to brimmin’ with lovely and hardworking young ladies. But they usually don’t hang out in what I joshingly call the old fat guys’ room, that is the room in back of the cavernous workout hall, with the pool, a large whirlpool, a steam room, and a sauna. For some reason beyond mortal ken, all the young and physically attractive types of both genders are out pumping and clanking with the stairmasters, nautilii, and their ilk. Don’t they know they could be swimming?
So that leaves mostly us old fat guys to just sit there and sweat, and some people I might call old fat chicks if I weren’t afraid of bodily harm. But not today.
She walked over to the whirlpool and lowered herself in like Cleopatra gracefully lowering herself into a bubbling warm sea. I would describe her in detail were this not something of a family oriented word grouping. Suffice it to say that when she eventually put her hands behind her on the edge of the jacuzzi and pulled herself back up to the side, it turned into one of those slow-motion commercials where water falls in tiny dancing balls and comports itself on the bronzed body in silence and sacred serenity. A wet space in body time.
Then when she stood up and strode to the sauna, I saw her, accidently, from behind. OMG. Butt alert! I am not one normally to discuss people’s behinds in public, but exceptions prove the rule.
Those twin globes from swerve heaven sported that golden bottom like a dream of Croesus, the skin that glitters gold. It was the kind of ass one would carve on one’s headstone, could one find a sculptor capable of such a magnum double-opus. Here lies a happy man, under the most beautiful butt in all creation.
This brings us to beauty. Why her? She did have long jet black hair, straight as straight, with bangs, Cleo-style, and skin of natural dark tan, not to mention some sort of miracle radiance in my mind, but is she really more admirable in beauty than others?
Maybe,
LWIII
Why would anyone want to touch a girl’s butt. Everyone knows that where cooties come from.
To impart my own logic on the question…is she really more admirable in beauty than others?
To you yes. Beauty, as has been aptly coined, is in the eye of the beholder. She is your Cleopatra. To the other old fat guy swimming on the outside lane she could look like an trash hag who happened to find an old stained bathing suit in someone’s bust bin so she slithered into it and took an afternoon to indulger the side of her that never gets indulged, being that she lives in pile of garbage and all.
You were clearly taken by her where she could have just been ‘any other woman’ to someone else. The fact that she appealed to you then causes the conundrum…why did she decide to go into that part of the fitness area? Perhaps she would rather the mature, interesting, lived man to hit on her than the younger, less dimensional young man.
Worth an extra ponder or two.
ClX
Perfect, ClX, thanks. That’s what I was thinking, maybe she was not beautiful but my mind was beautiful in the contemplation of her beauty. And maybe it was my small mind and not my large one.
I was most amazed by the fact that she went in the whirlpool area at all. What was Cleopatra doing in that kinda groady mileu? It’s not like it was some spic and span spa zone filled with frolicking beauties of both sexes. It may not be super gross town, but the management of the fitness place would clearly rather hire more sales associates than janitors.
I am so confused.
At least now I know where cooties come from. And all this time I thought they emanated from society. Thanks for the update!
LWIII
It’s nice to see Nefertiti’s whole face, again! Thank you, Tom for restoring her full beauty for us, thank you for turning back time for us, to the day when she was honored for her worldwide-known beauty. As for butts, we don’t know her if or ands, much less the rest.
I hear she, like her husband, had a big head.
Namaste
That wasn’t me, it was the photographer who took the shot of that bust, and me stealing it off the internet and playing with the colors.
She may not have had a big head, but she sure had a big hat!
xoxo