Just Another Day. In Paradise, Sort Of.

Fabulous, Indeed!

I'm sitting poolside, with the view of an Eiffel tower. Not the Eiffel tower, mind you, but a somewhat reasonable facsimile in Las Vegas, yes. 

Pools are always interesting spots for people watching, yes, particularly on a warm day in Sin City.

The pool itself is not particularly sinful, no.  The sun is high in the sky, and a most unusual mix of music  is playing from the cabana house while hotel guests lounge about.

There's a mid fifties dude with a bit of a belly across the pool from me giving me the chin nod when I look up. So I try try try not to look up but I can’t help myself because I need to see if he’s looking. So I look. And his chin nods.

Note: Bah! I have no self control whatsoever.

The European couple next to me is fairly entertaining. 

Note: I know that the fellow is European by the fact that 1) he is grooving to George Michael singing about chameleons and 2) he is wearing a sky blue speedo and 3) he is speaking in a strange cadence that sounds like he has something caught in his airway.

Additional Note: George Michael is a man without conviction. He comes and goes. He comes and gooooooes.

A new posse has arrived poolside. Near the Eiffel tower. They are heavily tattooed twenty something fellows in swim trunks and cowboy boots. I kid you not. Cowboy boots. But not speedos, thankfully. Definitely not European Cowboys, no. 

The lifeguards, a couple of twenty somethings, are flirting with each other. The hot tub is filled with dudes with big bellies and ball caps, intermittently checking their phones and watches.

Note: Maybe they are timing the hot babes that want to meet them to see if they actually arrive in twenty minutes.

So, the Cowboys are cannonballing. The Europeans are grooving. The Big Bellies are checking. For Hot Babes.

As for me, I'm reading my book. I'm concentrating deeply, yes. I’m not looking at the Dude across the pool. I will not give him the satisfaction, no. 

I’m not looking. I’m not looking...

Sweet Holy Moses. I looked.

Ah, there it is.  The chin nod.

Note:  Bah! I have no self control whatsoever.

Heck, yes!