It is 9:10 PM. My eyes are droopy. I am lying under the covers and around my neck is my black fuzzy-on-one-side-smooth-on-the-other airplane neck pillow. I am in the bed closest to the bathroom. Dave is in the other bed. (He will come back over here in a little bit). Eli is sitting at the desk with his headphones on, and Kyle is lounging in a comfy chair by the window. It is quiet. We are all in our pajamas. Wet swimsuits hang on pants hangers all over the room. Some are situated in front of air-conditioning vents. Kyle just asked, “can I go to sleep?”
Earlier I set my alarm twice. Our flight leaves at 7AM. The shuttle leaves at 5:15 AM.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Yes. I just want to go to bed.” Kyle responds and continues, “Can we turn off all of the lights? Mom, look. I found your dental floss. Want it?”
“We can turn out the lights in a few minutes.” Dave tells him.
“Where do you want me to put it?” Kyle says as he walks the dental floss over to me.
“I don’t know. The bathroom” I respond.
He senses my distraction, and knows I will not remember the dental floss if he leaves it where I asked him to.
“Mom, I’ll just put it back in my backpack.”
Relieved, I say, “Thank you.”
Then I hear the click, click, click of Eli’s mouse as Kyle gets up to use the bathroom.
Me and Big Daddy at the Andaz Papagayo. Costa Rica
We checked out of the Andaz Papagayo a few hours ago, and are currently checked in to the Hilton Garden Inn Liberia. The rollaway bed Kyle is rolling across the room is more like a rolling box spring.
“No. No. No. Where are you going to go?” Eli asks Kyle as Kyle rams the box-spring into Eli (in an attempt to get past him).
Immediately distracted, Kyle lets the rollaway go and picks up the coconut we found somewhere along the way.
“Wait. Wait. Can I open this?” He asks.
“Let’s take it outside.” Dave answers.
Kyle walks over to the little hotel room counter. Now at the counter and with coconut in one hand and pen in the other, Kyle tries to puncture the coconut to get at the water. His efforts last for a few minutes. Eli gets up. Kyle asks, “Are you done?” I don’t know what Kyle is getting at, but Eli seems to. Annoyed, Eli responds, “Shut up.” He pauses, and because he actually loves Kyle, he asks, “Do you want a pen?” (Meaning a better pen to help him open the coconut.)
Then Eli walks over and begins working on the coconut.
“It smells kind of nasty.” He says.
Ok. I was totally under the impression that Dave said we were going open the coconut outside. What happened to that plan? I smell it. The coconut reeks. I raise my voice, “Dave, you need to get that thing out of here.”
“Ok. Look. I am covering the hole. Kyle, you take it.” Dave responds.
Eli fidgets with the rollaway. Kyle says something about not having a shirt on so he (obviously) can’t take the coconut away.
Dave asks, “where are my shoes?”
I tell him his shoes are in the closet. Kyle puts on a sweatshirt. He and Dave get their shoes and leave our now rotten-coconut-smelling room. I ask Eli to wash the counter.
“Mom, it does not smell like it (super rotten coconut) over here.”
Crisis averted. Coconut disposed of. Eli is back sitting at the desk. Dave is back in the bed across from me. Kyle is not lying at the foot of Dave’s bed, and I am still here. It is now 9:37 PM and I need to pack it in! Good night!
As Dave and I sat at Playa Prieta Beach Club, Costa Rica earlier today, we talked about travel stories. While we were talking, my brain was completely distracted by the poolside chairs we were sitting on, and the sea of empty chairs that branched out in a big long semi circle past Dave. Earlier, when we arrived at the beach club,, we were greeted by a member of the staff. I like how the beach club people greet us upon arrival and walk us to our chairs. They assign us specific chairs, which did not make a difference today, but chair assignment was a really big deal when we were here last time during high season. Because our chairs are assigned, we have recourse if someone tries to, say, move our stuff and take our chairs for themselves. Then the staff member places a terry cover over the chair cushion, rolls up a blue beach towel, and makes it into a comfy headrest. It is nice that these chairs are close to the ocean, and this is the only beach club or hotel my eyes can see. Today I recognized our pool assistant, Hener (I believe that is his name), from last time. I was happy to see him and he said he remembered us (which made us even more at home). I like that he and his co-worker took the time to tell us about the beach club. They were sure to warn us about big sharp rocks in a certain part of the beach, and the hot sand. “Be careful,” they said, followed by, “let us know if you need anything.” High fives to you, Prieta Beach Club, Costa Rica. Today you are definitely our number one. (It does not hurt that Kyle and Eli also met a very cool and adorable girl that they hung out with all afternoon).
Prieta Beach Club, Costa RicaPrieta Beach Club, Costa Rica: Beach chair, hammock and bed
As I consider the merits of the Prieta Beach Club beach chairs, which are pretty awesome beach chairs, I begin comparing them to all of the poolside chairs, the super comfy chairs, the beach prison prison-factory-situated chairs, and the chairs that were simple, yet did the job, that we have had the privilege or displeasure to sit upon.
Hilton Los Cabos Beach CabanaHilton Los Cabos Beach Cabana
There are many. Keep in mind that even the best hotel poolside chairs are often situated somewhat close together. I cannot remember them all, and my guess is because some of them are forgettable. If you you were to ask me what my two favorite beach chair experiences were, my immediate response would be the Hilton Los Cabos and the Andaz Papagayo. In truth, the Andaz is number one, but the Hilton offers free beach bed cabanas. And let me tell you, nothing beats a free beach bed cabana (enclosed by curtains, a giant and comfy beach bed, up on the hills overlooking the Sea of Cortez)
Andaz Papagayo, Costa Rica, Beach HammockAndaz Papagayo, Costa Rica, hacky sack chair
The Andaz holds the top the poolside chair spot, because it not only offers several varieties of chair and poolside chaise (my favorite: the hacky sack chair, and Dave’s favorite, the beachside hammock), it also pleasantly arranges the chairs to accommodate the capacity of the hotel while simultaneously giving the hotel guest enough space to enjoy the pool or beach. The Hilton Los Cabos (my true second place) comes very close. The chairs are comfortable, but in many places around the pools, the chairs are arranged too close together. Hence, at the Hilton Los Cabos, it is much harder to escape the space of the stranger lying next to you.
Waldorf Astoria, Park City, UT
In the category of not a beach, but best beach chair the Waldorf Astoria, Park City, Utah wins. The chairs are cushioned and comfortable. Again there is not an overcrowding issue. They also offer a variety of chair and poolside lounge, like the poolside bed.
Third place goes to the Fairmont Orchid on the Big Island. Again, the chairs were comfortable. They were also plastic. There were spaced very close together, especially by the pools. I found it much better to get a chair by the actual beach. What I did not like was that I had to find a chair myself and mark my territory with something like a towel or beach hat. Note* Holding your chair so no one takes it is not unique to the Fairmont, by the way.
Beach at the Fairmont Orchid, Big Island, HawaiiPoolside at the Fairmont Orchid, Big Island, Hawaii
And now I come to my least favorite chair: The plastic chair of the Grand Hyatt Maui. Ironically, my number one poolside chair experience is also a Hyatt. See, I am sure you and I could come up with much worse poolside-chair-situations. Take Las Vegas, the cattle call of all poolside chair experiences. Unless it is 35 degrees Fahrenheit, the pools are jam packed with tourists, and if you find a chair, you probably fought hard to get it.
Now let me return back to the Grand Hyatt Maui (need to get back to the states to get one of our pictures). Why the Grand Hyatt Maui is our pick for very worst poolside chair experience is because of expectation. We are not in Vegas, we are in paradise. We are not at Motel 6, we are at the Grand Hyatt Maui, and at the Grand Hyatt Maui our expectation is that our resort experience will be top notch and not a cattle call. The chairs were inexpensive looking and not very comfortable. Come on, they were plastic. They were arranged very close together, and yes, this chair-touching-chair-touching-chair arrangement made me feel like I was stuck in some sort of pool prison hell. And no shade! The chairs were so close together, it was hard to escape, I mean, get of your chair comfortably without stepping on someone else. Grand Hyatt Maui, I know your space is small. You can do better.
And really, isn’t it funny how something that seems so insignificant as the arrangement of a chair can make or break your experience? And it is something that seems so insignificant that also reflect the place you are in. I prefer comfy cushions over plastic any day. By the way, Prieta Beach Club Costa Rica, you do it right! You too, Andaz Papagayo and Hilton Los Cabos!
Earlier this week a friend of ours posted a Facebook plea, which read something like this, “I am going to the Welsh Coast this summer and need help buying proper hiking shoes…”
Having recently been in Wales (at a Pub near the English border, not the coast), I felt like I could give the perfect advice, [wink, wink]. In truth, we did hike in South Downs, England at Beachy Head (one of my favorite places I’ve been), which I imagine has similar terrain to the Welsh Coastline. Quickly, I looked up my favorite walking/hiking shoe brand (I have purchased at least thirty pairs over the years), copied and then pasted the link with this message:
“Do not go hardcore. You won’t need crazy hiking shoes/boots. Get something cool, functional, comfortable and waterproof, like a pair of Gore-Tex Salomons. Take one of your lovely friends to REI or the Salomon Store and look. Trust me. I have worn these for years and have hiked many a mile in them. The Salomon Gorw-Tex trail runner rocks!”
Quickly the thread digressed into why our friend should not buy the shoes from the store I recommended (REI), because of REI’s new return policy “sucks.” The thread had a point.
Beachy Head, England
As I was telling the shoe-exchange-gone-wrong, Dave burst out with “that’s it.”
“What’s it?” I asked.
“Often times it is the anticipation of the trip that gives someone the most pleasure — like shopping for shoes.”
We are currently in Costa Rica staying at the Five Star Andaz Papgayo (a Hyatt Brand Hotel). I would call this hotel a little bit of heaven tucked away on the Costa Rican coast. Moments earlier Dave, the boys and I were at one of the four swimming pools when the rain rolled in. It was falling just hard enough that we decided to take shelter under the open-air, covered Rio Bhongo restaurant. Here we sat as I stared at the beautiful bay view, the jungle flowers, the sky, the ocean, and the swimming pools below. We are in paradise.
Hyatt’s Andaz Papagayo, Costa Rica
Yet paradise can go wrong. Last night, for instance, I walked into the bench at the foot of our bed, stubbed my toe, and split my toenail all the way down the middle. Ouch! Before that Dave was in the ocean with Kyle when he walked into a rock. We thought it was broken. And right before that, I sprayed bug repellent on my legs, which melted my pedicure.
Injured toe in Costa Rica
As we waited for the rain to stop, our conversation continued.
“People spend months and months looking for the perfect hotel, the best attractions, reading reviews, and telling their friends about where they are going.”
“It is like the fantasy created in planning is where the joy is, and the trip may even be something to check off a list, or better, the less-enjoyed aspect of the whole experience.” I responded.
What Dave and I both observed is that for many people the real joy in travel does come from picking out the right travel shoes. Then we both wondered, “how much of the actual satisfaction of the journey lies in the planning, or doing things like gathering points?”
I think for many it is a lot. I would argue that getting the most joy out of fantasizing your most amazing trip is not only ok, but your trip fantasy can give you endless joy and satisfaction. When you plan, you can take time to imagine things like all the stunning and formidable rock cliffs shooting out of the Welsh coastline. You can see yourself walking along in your perfect hiking shoes while using a clever walking stick (I imagine one with some sort of Celtic wood carving). And then you can see yourself hiking along with your adorable Welsh guide. You hardly understand what he is saying through his strong Welsh accent, but that does not matter. You are simply delighted as the sea mist brushes your face and you share tales of warriors and magical sea creatures. I imagine your fantasy does not include toe injuries, unexpected fees, or canceled flights. I am certain it does not include the possibility that you bought the wrong hiking shoe, or the fact that once you arrive in Wales, you may not even see the coast through the rain and fog. My guess is that if you were thinking about staying in paradise, rain, which it is doing now, is not even considered.
“See, once you are actually there, things can go wrong.” Dave continued.
“You may not even need the hiking shoes, or better, if you go some magical place like Hawaii, you may never leave your beachside chair.” I inserted.
“Or not even make it to the beach at all, and stay by the pool.” Dave followed.
It is an interesting thought. I do not think it matters. I think some of us enjoy all aspects of travel: the planning, the trip, the social media sharing, and the return. I also think for some people the actual trip is perfunctory (remember things can go wrong), and it really is the planning (the fantasy) that allows them to escape their everyday life. I look at it this way. You can plan for months and months. Each of those planning days can serve as a most perfect vacation day. If planning is your thing, I think you have created a most excellent way to extend your vacation. High fives to you and your super durable hiking shoes!
Sidebar:
Here is a list of some of our favorite planning websites:
1. My favorite multipurpose travel information website: Tripadvisor
2. Rent-your-own lodging: VRBO, HomeAway, and AirBnB (all of these sites are worldwide)
4. My mother-inlaw’s favorite travel review website: Fordor’s
5. A great flight, hotel and car rental aggregator: Kayak
6. To learn about earning points: The Points Guy
7. If you want to stay on someone’s couch: Couchsurfing
8. Flight Matrix Search (gives you a way to really find the lowest cost airfare): ITA
9. Finally, If part of the fantasy is a personalized, customized approach, and you are traveling in South or Central America: Mosaico Travel
We flew into Costa Rica on a Red Eye, and all we wanted to do is pick up our car and go. “Mom! Feel it!” As the sweat rolled off of all of our foreheads Eli exclaimed, “Mom! Dad! Feel my seat! Seriously, feel the headrest! There is goo all over it!” Eli was correct. Not only was there goo all over his seat and headrest, there was dark colored goo inside the door. Gross!
Thank you, Budget car rental Liberia, Costa Rica. (In their defense, I imagine all the four-wheel drive jungle-exploring vehicles are a little long in the tooth). Because I know Dave speaks Spanish, I asked him, “Will you ask the dude for another car?”
“Sure.” Then Dave asked, and then man immediately summoned another dude to find us a car. As fast as the dude pulled the car out, and threw our luggage into it, we were doing a goo check of the new one.
“Nope. Still gross.”
My guess is that my fatigue and the heat were making me forget my tried and true method of making sure we get a good rental car. And then I remembered and quickly jumped my brain into gear, “Beth, go check the mileage in of the cars.”
Sure enough, the third car the guy pulled up had one-third the miles. We had a winner! The seats were not perfect, but they certainly were not gross. As we (finally) pulled out of the rental car place I said, “Dave, if I were ever going to advise anyone about travel I would say, ‘LEARN FROM ME. Pick a car with the lowest miles.’ Sure, it is not a perfect guarantee of a flawless rental car, but it is close, and that is great.”
Me outside of the Liberia, Costa Rica McDonalds
We were hot. We were tired. We were (still) dripping pools of sweat. We had just purchased $35 US of bottled water (yes, that is correct), and with our thirst well accommodated, we realized how hungry we were. We are totally smartphone-dependent, yet had no internet to Google Map or Yelp us somewhere, and that the boys were starving.
“Do you want to find something local?” Dave asked me.
“We have no internet.” I answered, and continued, “How can we check our options?”
Dave knows Liberia has a Burger King, and I know I do not like Burger King. I had seen the McDonald’s across the street and said, “Hey, let’s get the boys some McDonald’s McFlurrys.”
“What? Are you sure?” He asked. ? Dave knows that I often turn my nose up at McDonalds in hopes of finding a healthier alternative.
“Maybe they have free Wi-Fi.” I answered.
In seconds we went from the grocery store around the dusty construction-filled roundabout, turned left and were at McDonalds. [insert a Spanish-styled Hallelujah chorus here]. We walked inside. I pulled out my smartphone. I checked and indeed Liberia McDonalds has free Wi-Fi. [again I heard the Spanish-Styled Hallelujah chorus]. The place was packed. I immediately offered up the McFlurrys. Dave stood in line while we saved seats. Our food arrived. My lovely husband got me my own order of fries. McDonalds in the moment had the best and saltiest, most satisfying french-fries ever; french-fries that are heaven to a stomach after a long international flight. The McFlurrys were a hilarious misstep of deliciousness: not mixed, syrup and cookies on top. Dave thinks they do not have the McFlurry mixing machine working properly. None of us cared, because they were awesome. And then there were the bonus straws. See, when you sip a cold beverage, the straw turns pink. “Dave, hey look.” I said as my Coca-Cola-filled straw went from clear to pink. We were relaxed, well fed and no longer dripping pools of sweat. We Google Mapped our journey and knew where we were headed, and two local security dudes asked us to take their picture. Way to go, Liberia McDonalds! Way to go! I understand why your entire town may have been inside your air-conditioned and free Wi-Fi doors. Honestly, I do not blame them.
Arenal Lake, Costa Rica
We were on our way, satisfied and happily refreshed. Because Dave was able to Google Map us at McDonalds, we knew where we were headed. We drove through dusty towns on the Pan-American highway. We turned somewhere and then along beautiful and gigantic Lake Arenal. Hours passed by and of course we were hungry again. I always travel with a various assortment of bars and with only salt French-fries in my stomach, I desperately wanted one. My Luna Bars were easy to access. I also know the Luna Bars have a yummy coating. I grabbed my Luna Bar and it was a mushy hot mess trapped in its Luna Bar wrapper. As the cool breeze of the air conditioner touched my face, a flash of insight shot through my brain. “What if I hold my Luna Bar up to the air conditioning vents?” It worked. After minutes of holding and flipping from one side to the other, my bar reanimated itself into the bar it was meant to be.
El Coloso, La Fortuna, Costa Rica
We finally reached or destination, La Fortuna, Costa Rica. And yes, we were hungry (again – dudes, I have two giant and still growing teenage sons). Our drive from Liberia was a long and pleasant. Now at our lovely little lodge (El Silencio Del Campo), Dave quickly looked up a few restaurants. We left, and once we are on the road, nothing made sense. We could not find any of the Spanish named eateries. We drove and drove. The boys told us, “We are hungry,” and we drove some more. We did not want to pay unnecessarily high tourist trap prices. Then, out of the corner of our eye of our eye we saw all these people sitting in an open-air roadside café (El Coloso). “Hey, they look like locals.” I said. We stopped. We ordered. We devoured. Sure enough, the food was delicious, and not expensive. Dave is certain this place is the place to go and here is why. Dave observed, “See, the steady stream of locals coming in to buy fried chicken and tortilla chips to go.” He is correct. I ordered the pechuga de pollo. It was awesome and seasoned like nothing else.. You can ask for platanos (plantains). Yum!
Deet melts nailpolish (and I told you my big toe was big)
Our dinner was finished and we were back at our lovely little lodge, (El Silencio Del Campo). As I took my sandals off I noticed black marks all over my foot and that something sticking to my (unusually big) big toe. I leaned over and touched my toe. My toenail polish was gummy, smudged and had bled onto my foot. At first I thought it might be the heat and humidity. Then I remembered. Right before dinner I sprayed my ankles and feet with bug spray. Bugs love me and this time I was going to be prepared. Little did I know that Deet melts the feet, or better, that Deet melts nailpolish. Of course it does. So if I can save you any heartache, I will. Next time you are in the Jungle, or Minnesota, for that matter, and you are spraying for bugs, watch the pedicure. You are welcome [wink wink].
We had been up for nearly twenty-four hours. Our fatigue melted into satisfaction. We were safe, well fed, and cool. And as I wet wiped the nail polish off of both feet, Dave and the boys were already in bed. I would call our day great, and our simple out-of-the country hacks (travel solutions) a success.
SideBar:
Our Learn-from-our-mistakes List of Travel Hacks
1. Look for low car miles to avoid a rental car SNAFU
2. Do not Turn Your Nose Up at McDonalds, especially in a foreign country. They probably have free Wi-FI
3. Remember Alternative Uses for a Car’s Air Conditioner: reanimating power bars
4. When you do not know where to eat, look for the locals.
5. Deet melts nailpolish
We tell them we will meet them at the pool in a few minutes and then lock the door.
Ok. Let me be clear. I am no “sex”- pert. I am not sure that my experiences will be helpful (I hope they are). I also wonder if this is a good topic (I think it is). I know my mother-in-law could read this, and so could my mom. I am certain I might embarrass Dave. And my how-babies-were-made words will most definitely mortify the boys. Rest assured for a minute while I tell Kyle and Eli a little story.
Boys,
Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock first brought us Kyle and then brought Eli. Apparently each of you was found amongst the Tribbles. You were so cute and delightful that we decided to raise you as our own. That is my story and I am sticking to it.
Love, Mom
And now that I mentioned the word, I also think I may have freaked you out. And here is how. Just now I introduced the thought, (most likely a traumatic one), that yes, Beth has sex. Never fear. Dave and I just hold hands [wink, wink]. Nevertheless, sex or no sex, strange or appropriate, as a non-fiction writer I always thought I should find a way to appropriately and honestly write mommy and daddy relations. And because I seem to be writing travel these days, and because Dave, the boys and I are on the road so often, I think the topic of sex in tight spaces is an important one. (No. I promise Dave and I are not undercover Cirque Du Soleil performers.) What I am referring to is how Dave and I manage to have mommy and daddy time, especially when we are out of town.
Here is the deal. The behind the scenes world of travel can be dark, exotic, distracting, amazing, tired, out-of-sorts, angry, bitter, and just plain uncomfortable. To get to Costa Rica (where we currently are), for instance, the boys and I took one Red Eye, and Dave took another, through two different hub cities, meeting at the airport in Costa Rica 30 minutes apart. We are sharing a one-room cabin and were up by 7:30 AM the next day (this morning) so Kyle and Eli could milk a cow. I know, weird, but also totally cool.
We hiked to the most awesome La Fortuna Waterfall. Then headed to Arenal Volcano National Park, where we saw billions of Leaf Cutter Ants. How cool is that? Very. The clouds cleared long enough for us to see the top of the Volcano, which is something I will never forget. Both boys have homework. We always need to eat. Dave wants to hike to the Rio Celeste tomorrow. And because we are together and have points expiring today, we are booking hotels for later this summer. Dave and the boys are playing Monopoly Deal outside, and I am ready for bed.
When I got married everyone told me not to go to bed angry. I am not angry. I am happy. This has been a good day. No one ever said, “Hey, make sure to have sex every night before you go to bed.” Why? Because that is nuts! Unless, that is, you do. No judgment. Really, high fives to any of you he make sex every night happen. Wow! We are all busy. At home it is much easier to fit in a quickie, or have some really good handholding time while the boys are in school. I love Friday afternoons just for that reason.
Traveling is tricky. Traveling is a time where hands need to stay connected. It is true. When Kyle and Eli were younger we waited to have sex until they were asleep. At the time it seemed difficult. We were worn out and tired. When we worked a little lovemaking in, our travels were always better. Sometimes now I wish for the days when all it took was for our boys to fall asleep. The good part about traveling with others is that other people can distract your sons so you can have sex. For instance, when we traveled with Dave’s mom. It was easy. She had another room, and when Dave and I needed a moment we sent the boys to find her. Thank you for being there, DeAnne.
Now our boys are teenagers. We have talked to them about sex. We know they are at the age when the thought of their parents naked and engaged makes them want to puke. Last night when Dave kissed me in the hot springs, Eli almost threw up. We all laughed and Dave kissed me again. And I say, “let him barf.” Kyle and Eli need to see the connection. After a few seconds of, “ew Mom and Dad, you are gross,” Eli gave us a hug. Yes, he gave us a hug. We were all connecting It is not sex. It is intimacy. The boys need to see that their parents really like each other, and we do. Today was long. Because the boys and I were in Utah and Dave was in San Francisco all week, Dave and I knew it was time to reconnect.
So tonight when the boys asked if they could get their suits on so we all could go the hot springs, we said, “yes.” Then we urged them to go ahead. “We will meet you there in a few minutes.” We told them. They quickly changed and left the room. Then we locked the door and shut the curtains.
In the interest of full disclosure and before I launch into my swimsuit-picking-out ordeal, I offer this disclaimer: No, my husband has not posted a picture of my backside in a bikini on Instagram (he doesn’t have an account wink wink), or my front side, for that matter. If he ever does, I apologize in advance. The only reason my boobs look big is because of my giant barreling ribcage underneath them. As far as my diet and exercise habits go, I am not Paleo. I do not starve myself. I do not work out seventy-three hours a day. I do not run marathons, or do Crossfit, or participate in bike races with all of my equally fit lady friends. I do not wear tank tops, and here is why. I think t-shirts hold in my upper arm jiggle, or as I sometimes call them, “my batwings.”
I am Gluten Free (yes, a “for real” wheat allergy). I try to walk or hike each day. And as hard as I have tried to work my work-out-resistant triceps, my upper arm jiggle is not going anywhere. My mom’s prayers have been answered, because I no longer hide my body in super baggy clothes.
In a few short hours we leave for Costa Rica. Costa Rica is hot and humid. I know we will be at the beach, swimming pools and visiting hot springs. As much as I wish I could either wear a snowsuit or simply go naked, I cannot. You and I both know wearing a snowsuit might kill me, and the sight of me going naked might kill you (at least with laughter).
I went to two stores, Nordstrom and Athleta. Because of their most liberal return policies, visiting these two stores was a very calculated move. In Nordstrom I saw a suit that I liked until I saw the gold fasteners. I do not wear gold. I knew my time was short so I walked out of the store, headed over to the escalator, went down and walked myself over to Athleta. As I entered the store in an anxiety haze seventeen (two) girls asked if I needed help. Like fourteen year old boy asking a girl to dance, my words came out clunky and awkward. “I am just looking.” I said really, really loud. I was so loud that the manager had to explain to the co-worker, “just give her some space.” It was a hilarious dance between traumatized swimsuit shopper and eager sales girl. I worked my way over and over through the store when at last the now-drooling sales girl was able to cut in.
“I like bottoms that cover everything.” I said.
To which she responded, “Have you seen our bottom chart?”
“Nope.”
Pointing at the bottom chart she said, “Look.”
“I like that one.” I responded. Consumed in nerves I could not read the words below the high coverage bottoms: ONLINE ONLY. I wanted to run out of the store screaming. I could not. I had waited until the last minute. I took a deep breath and said, “Do you have anything in the store with high coverage? And not this bright blue.”
Let me tell you something about me, and probably my generation. We were raised at a time when black is how we felt on the inside [wink wink]. We were reared in black and we will always wear black, and all of its varying shades. Black is always available, even when it is not in. “Do you have something in black?”
She tried to push me into the navy with the pinkish stripe boy short. “No. I said black.” She tried for straight up navy. “No. Let’s try the black.” Finally and thank god, (because the Gap across the way does not have the same generous return policy) she led me to the black swimsuits. Hey and remember if you are ever buying a swimsuit at the last minute, or anytime, for that matter, calm yourself and do not let yourself get pushed into something you will never wear.
I am short. One pieces do not fit me well. I saw the tankini tops. And because of my giant ribcage I was able to size my trick boobs into the B/C cup-size. “They do not come any smaller.” She urged.
We grabbed a top. We grabbed some bottoms. And as sweat gathered on my upper lip, we walked the plank. I mean, we headed over to the dressing room. “Beth, I will be here if you need me.” She was not here when I needed her. Alone in that dressing room, I stood for a very long moment, naked and afraid. Thank goodness I heard a mom admonishing her young son, “I am going to take my clothes off. Are you sure you want to come in the dressing room with me? “ And then I heard her sales associate. This was my chance. So as I stood with only a tankini top on I whispered, “Hey, can you grab me the swim skirt in a different size?” Hold up. Yes, it is true. I move from the synched swim bottom to the swim skirt. They were out of the swim short. The biking bottoms prominently displayed my C-section scar.
“Sure, what size do you need?” As she ran to get my size, I heard her bump into my original sales lady. There was no blood, but close. Good. I was now distracted by my own naked body staring at me in the mirror. New sales lady won and brought me the correct size.
I stood looking in the mirror and thought, “for last minute this black tankini isn’t so bad.” Then I quietly peered through the slit in the dressing room curtain. Slowly I opened the curtain and stepped outside. The fact that I could actually stand in a shopping mall dressing area with a swimsuit on was the test. I did it. The new sales lady came back. We talked suits. We talked fit. She did not throw up at the sight of me. Dear Mother Earth, I think we have a winner! I bought a swimsuit. I bought a swimsuit on my own! I will leave my snow-suit at home. And if I chicken out, remember, there is always the awesome return policy to fall back on.
