The Hot Locker Room
It was a hot sweltering day in August when I decided to go for a swim in our local pool. Gathering up my suit, towel and gym bag, I headed out to spend a few hours in the sun. It was a much better idea than heading to the beach, which would have meant two hours sitting in traffic, which I wasn't in the mood for.
Pulling into the parking lot, I noticed a really cool sports car pulling up a few rows ahead of me. I watched as this beautiful girl exited the passenger side and joined hands with an equally handsome young guy. You could tell they weren't from our local town, well maybe he was, but she certainly wasn't.
I watched as she walked across the lot and snuggled up to her male friend kissing him on the cheek as they entered the pool gate.
Gathering my bag and putting away my keys, I followed only a few yards behind them. I could hear parts of their conversation as she very distinctly had a European accent. It sounded like a French dialect to me. I knew she wasn't from our little jerk water town.
I claimed a lounge chair and spread out my towel all the while watching the love birds as they put two chairs together so they could sit closer, practically on top of one another.