Life's a beach... which is why you need a bikini

So dear, wonderful, marvelous friends of ours who live in Massachusetts (you know who you are) invited J-THREE-O to come stay with them for a week -- last week -- and attend the summer art camp at the MFA with their daughter. So the spouse and I decided to take off a few days and go to Block Island.

The trip was nearly derailed at the last minute when the proprietor of the inn we were to stay at called the night before we were to leave to inform us there had been a plumbing disaster and our room was not habitable. However, she said, they could put us up in a smaller room with no view or reserve us a room similar to the one we had reserved just down the block, at Payne's Harbor View Inn (which hadn't received as great reviews on TripAdvisor as the place we had booked).

To further dampen my once euphoric mood, it had been POURING all day, and the forecast wasn't looking too good for the next day or two -- and we had planned on bringing our bikes (just our bikes, no car, which we couldn't bring).

I was ready to cancel, and save us (okay, me) some money and heartache, but the spouse convinced me that we should go, taking the room at Payne's Harbor View. And boy am I glad he did! (More below.)



















































While the weather was not great (cloudy and relatively cool -- but no rain!), it was perfect for biking and walking. And, on a trip into town to look for footwear (I somehow forgot my sandals at home), I found... a bikini!!!

Apparently I had been looking for a bikini in all the wrong places, namely in swimsuit shops and in the women's swimsuit department.

As it happens, I am a perfect Size 14. Girls, that is. Which I discovered while looking at swimsuits in a sports apparel store on Block Island. I hadn't planned on going in the store, but then I saw a rack of colorful swimsuits, which I made a beeline for -- and immediately found a nice-looking bikini. But I could not believe the tag, which said it was a size 14. A size 14?! Maybe that "1" was a mistake.

So I asked the saleswoman to tell me what size the itsy bitsy polka dot bikini was. She took a look. "It's a size 14," she confirmed. "A girls size 14."

Now while some of my female readers will huff and puff about me being petite enough to fit into a Girls Size 14 anything, let me tell you that the thrill of being able to buy your clothes at GapKids wears off after about five minutes. Also, you cannot buy work dresses or suits at GapKids. And really, would you want to look like a barely adolescent female, with no breasts and the added bonus of a flabby flat ass?

Yes, having a taught tummy is nice, but so are breasts. And did I mention all the stretch marks and wrinkles (on my face) I have accumulated over the years? (During the trip I decided my Indian -- excuse me, Native American -- name should be "Squinto" or "Many Crows Feet.")

Anyway, I bought the suit, and proceeded to wear it around Block Island, and the world didn't end. Hey, if Helen Mirren can do it, so can I (and she's got over 20 years on me)!