Glad to have met Sela in Round 1, and looking forward to meeting her in a non-poll match in the near future, I abandon my search for the elusive FCF Newbie Pool, and instead grab my bag, slip into the new ‘kini, then my fave denim cut-offs and white low top Chucks. I will find water, I vow, and this time I head east---I mean, eventually, I have to hit ocean, right?
The match-ups for Round 2 haven’t been posted yet, so I assume I have the day off. I meander along the well-worn path, and after a few minutes, the cries of seagulls and the faint smell of salt water greets me. With a smile, I bound over the small hill about a hundred feet ahead, and I am momentarily taken aback at the beauty of this tiny beach, encircling a lagoon---small waves lapping at the shore. I scan it, and there’s no one! Really? All for me??
I kick off the Chucks at the end of the path and put them in my bag. Loving the feel of the warm sand on the bottom of my feet, I make my way out to about halfway between clearing and water, and lay out my blanket. Peeling off my cut-offs, letting them slide down my smooth, tanned legs to my ankles, I grab them with my toes and foot-toss them over near my bag. Scanning the horizon once more, seeing no lurkers or passers-by, I untie the bikini top but leave it on, drop to my knees, spray on the SPF20, and then settle on my tummy, head on my hands, loving the warmth of the sun caressing my back and my legs, almost immediately making me feel relaxed and approaching the border of Sleepytown.
My thoughts drift randomly ---I remember that I need more Nutella at home, and I need to check with my allergy doc to see if I can own a Bichon…. I now certainly know who the 7 possibilities are for my new opponent---one I know very well, one I know and…immediately my feeling of relaxation evaporates and I feel my muscles start to tense. My jaw clenches as I think of her---the skank who not once, but twice, beat the crap and humiliated one of my best friends—the second time doing it while on the phone with me, making me listen to her domination, and laughing that there was nothing I could do to help. Damn---the trash talk that ensued then---and since---threats and promises, sub-surface rage on my part---and, from some of her comments, I knew she wasn’t far behind. There’s playful trash-talk to get psyched for a fight, and then there’s from-the-gut, anger-dipped hate---this-is-someone-who-shouldn’t-walk-this-planet kind of rage. And that was the Hallmark Card version of what I felt for that blonde skank.
Trying to push those thoughts down deep and get back to enjoying the sun, I feel my muscles just begin to soften again, that perfectly content feeling of sleep coming right around the corner…when I feel the sun disappear. Frigging clouds, I think. I roll over, my untied top hanging off my 32C’s a bit, and scan the sky, but my gaze stops about 5 and a half feet up. Awww, shit… it’s CheerGirl, standing at the foot of the blanket, with a smirk…
