Hey again peeps, it’s me, Gina.
Well I had one fantastic 4th of July and the story will follow. But I have to digress for a second. I just watched Formula 51 with Samuel L. Jackson. Completely average movie, but did anyone else find the running gag about looking up his kilt INCREDIBLY sexy. All I kept imagining was taking a peek up that kilt....what would I find?
Anyways, back to my fab 4th.
Here in Boston the 4th of July gets big play. I have never been into parades or fireworks or anything. But the benefit is mucho parties. Friday I hit four 4th BBQs, each one better than the next. I saved, what I found out later, the best for last.
I went to a party in the suburbs of Boston. Great place, big in ground pool, great food and cold drinks, of the R and PG variety. Well it was a warm one and the pool was the center of attention. I brought my bikini but totally did not plan on hitting the pool, but I was hot and the guys were cute, so I figured...maybe I’ll show off a little.
Now me in a bikini at some points in my life wasn’t the most attractive thing. Not horrid, but I always knew I could work-out a little more and it would even out. Well I am in a fiendish work-out phase right now so I wasn’t too shy about being so exposed. (Note- When my body image hits high points I have been known to hunt out nude beaches around New England or more exotic places.)
Well I glide out to the pool, curves working in fine form, yeah I turned a few heads. I had some stiff competition. I am in my early 30’s and work-out. But I was “competing” against 20 something who just breathed to stay in good shape.
Slip in the pool, nice and cool, have a margarita. All was perfect.
Since my divorce I have dated pretty regularly. Some guys I see once or twice. Some I fool around with, others I end up having a good friendship with. I have been lucky. But I will admit since I have been jotting down my thoughts for the Internet I have been in a dry spell.
So going to party after party I figured my luck would have to change. I mean I try the bar thing and sometimes meet OK guys, but its too dicey and sporadic.
I am in the pool, tan looking good, catching some guys peeking at me. I am enjoying it. Then Kevin walks in.
Kevin is a guy I knew back when I first married Daryl. Kev is half-Italian and Irish, stronger on the Italian side because his mom’s from Naples. Anyway, Kev was the quiet artist type, tall, broad shouldered and cute. Well Kev had definitely matured. I barely recognized him.
Still tall and broad shouldered, now he filled out, not so skinny anymore. His smile was great as ever but that slight bit of youth to his face made me swoon. I do that easily if you haven’t figured that out by now.
I knew he recognized me, but the shy little bugger didn’t say a word. And I was not going to let this handsome 32 year-old out of my sight.
I shout out his name, get his attention and wave him over to the pool. He gets within 10 feet, stares over the edge of the pool and down my cleavage and smiles, politely of course, and says, “ Hey Gina. I didn’t recognize you. It’s been so long.”