A Right Pair of Wans 2

A word of advice to would-be travellers to sunny climes .....BRING A SWIMSUIT.

I am now, officially, on my holidays in Florida, U.S.A. The big blister is kindly providing bed, breakfast and an evening meal (if I can manage to behave myself) and "entertainment " for the duration of my stay, which is 4 weeks (again, dependent on my behaviour). Four weeks might seem excessive to some of you but we are SO worth it.

As you can imagine, a lot of planning had to go into an escapade such as this, which necessitated abandoning kith and kin ( of the everyday variety), travelling half way across the world and the preparation of the unsuspecting hosts for the impending alien invasion.

The Molly, having had ample time to plot and scheme, announces on Tuesday, we're off on a little gadabout to Miami on Friday to meet up with Liz and have fun times on the beach, sipping whatever it is you sip in Miami ... soaking up the sun, dipping the bodies in the bathlike waters, trawling the sandy beaches for the ocean's cast off baubles, fighting off the legions of admirers with our disdainful looks ..... Bliss!!!!

Oooops.

"Think I'll have to pay a little visit to the shops, Molly, I forgot to pack a swimsuit ..... Sorry .... caan't imagine how I managed to do something as stupid as that??????"

In deference to the delicate nature of the female of the species "bloggerus fantasticus", I will not repeat what she said. Suffice to say, the Molly Bawn, unimpressed with my forward thinking, was kind enough not to lambast me with her potentially corrosive tongue. She resigned herself, with a definite air of martyrdom, to a trudge to the mall. I dutifully hung my head.

She, like me, wouldn't be a huge fan of the shopping disease.

So, armed and dangerous, off we went. On a mission. "Easy, peasy" we agreed. "We'll be back before we even know we've been gone"....

We cut quite a dash, such was our efficiency and single-mindedness. Not for us the magpiesque gee-gawing. We were immune to all the glitter and shimmy of the Sale signs, the 2 for 1 temptations, the gyrations of the brightly coloured concoction that one MUST have.

Straight to the swimwear sections.

In and out of changing rooms. In and out of various creations. Pink ones, green ones. Blue ones and multi-coloured ones. One-pieces, two-pieces, hardly-there-at-all pieces. In and out of hysterical snortings and guffaws at my appearance in the seasons hottest offering. Molly, at one stage, when we were nearing the limit of our endurance, arrived in with one joyously orange coloured costume for my consideration. She sat down, wearily, while I, once more, struggled with the, now, unco-operative bones. While I am, vainly, trying to arrange the mammaries into the space provided and feeling very inadequate that they are not making the slightest impression ... I glance at the blister and she is doubled over, shoulders shaking, strangulated sounds emerging and then, I catch sight of myself in the mirror .... and we are both doubled over, laughing hysterically, in grave danger of having a serious, senior moment necessitating a change of underwear. The afore-mentioned orange ensemble was designed to accommodate a lady of more ample proportions - 38D to be precise - and the antics of trying to fill the necessary spaces, provided us with, not only a good belly-laugh but also, the final straw.

We gave up. We conceded defeat. We retreated to the car to lick our wounds and, for my part, salvage what remnants of pride remained. We muttered, incoherently, about tea, tomorrow being another day, could always go au naturel, who'd notice?

We headed home.

Only to be distracted by ONE LAST STORE.

At the OTHER side of the four-lane highway. The more mature of these 2 sisters did an inspired, rapidly spontaneous, off the cuff, unpremeditated, TOTALLY ILLEGAL U turn.

Surprise, surprise, lights are flashing.

It's not me they want to pull over, is it?.... I didn't do anything wrong, did I? .... they've been building and changed the layout of the exits and entrances and ............ how else am I to get over there ......... there wasn't any sign saying you couldn't, was there?..........

A rather unlikeable, portly, sweating, barely out of nappies representative of the law proceeded to misuse his power.

And, feebly attempted to break our spirit.

He was, momentarily, successful. Ticketed and somewhat chastened we continued, meekly, to the cause of the misdemeanour.

And were rewarded for our efforts by the discovery and purchase of a very well-behaved, take you anywhere, unexciting, little black number.

And then, to Miami, to kick up our heels and flaunt our unlawful, unchastened, unflagging spirits to the unsuspecting public.

A right pair of wans, to be sure.