On Day 3, there were some very exhibitionist “babes” cavorting very loudly on the beach, making quite the spectacle of themselves, laughing, running, squealing, etc.
Whatever. (insert eye roll here).
But when the heat of the day was subsiding, and the lifeguards had packed up, and most people were dragging their sunburnt bodies back to their hotels for showers and dinner, a Muslim family arrived.
The Muslim mothers wore long coats and burkas, the girl children wore bathing suits with leggings under them, and burkas, too. The burkas seemed to be huge pain in the ass for the teens, always unraveling in the sea breeze and preventing the free, unencumbered, enjoyment of the crashing surf, the waves, and all the excitement that is the definition of an ocean vacation.
The Muslim mothers chose to hang out on a wooden pier that extended into the ocean, finding this a good, safe place to watch the children and to enjoy the beach themselves.
At this point the bikini clad mermaids decided that they too wanted a part of the pier and spent a raucous half hour screeching and laughing, dancing around the Muslim family in their string bikinis.
Then, at one point, one of the mermaids decided that pictures were in order. They began posing for each other pretty provocatively. I was embarrassed for the Muslim family, frankly. But, hey, it’s a free country.
But then the raucous babes asked the burka-wearing, long-coat sporting Muslim beach mother, to take their picture. And it was here that I think a line was crossed.
The Muslim woman was very gracious and took more than a few pictures of these “mermaids.” She didn’t seem to mind at all.
But me? I wanted to spank those little bitches.