I was having a pleasant day at the beach–the sun was shining, it was warm, but not humid, and there was a nice breeze–until I saw them. Two young ladies with very little respect for themselves. I put my book–Joel Osteen’s latest collection of excellent sermons–down against my chest and huffed.
“This is ridiculous? Do you see what they’re wearing?” My wife seemed far less concerned about this assault on public decency. Two young things practically shaking their bare asses for every decent family to see. I removed my reading glasses and stood up, straightening my t-shirt–from a previous church 5K–and grabbing my sandals. I stood up in a rush, grumbling all the while, and began walking over to the girls. I was muttering under my breath, considering how I’d explain the problem to them.
They were laying on towels on their stomach, obviously enjoying the sun on their practically naked bodies. Absolutely perverse, I thought, these girls were clearly not raised very well. I walked in front of them, so that my shadow fell across their tanned, petite bodies. I crossed my arms as they looked up.