It's Wednesday evening, and I'm sitting outside the Tropical Breeze Resort & Spa, taking advantage of their Wi-Fi. I started out over at the Daiquiri Deck, but when they couldn't find a table for a party of one even though the dining room was half empty and turned the gawd-awful music in the bar from 3 to 8 while I was waiting, I realized it just wasn't meant to be. Girlfriend needs a little peace and quiet for her blogging.
This is way better anyway. There are quite the characters walking by on the sidewalks, and so instead of catching up on the game wraps that I am behind on again, I'm taking a moment to tell you about it.
A rather top-heavy woman just jugged, I mean, jogged by with about 10% of her total body area covered in Spandex. I barely restrained the urge to do a slack-jawed double take, though I did sneak a peek when she jogged back the other direction later. I've seen lots of skin since I've been here, shown some of it too, but she was taking it to a new level.
Not long after her a man in Spandex rode by on his bicycle, thankfully significantly more covered by his attire. Bulging out of it, but at least covered by it.
An olive green VW Bus just turned the corner, coughing smoke. Not saying from where.
A middle-aged married couple just walked out into the road in front of oncoming traffic. (People do this all the time here, by the way. There are signs posted all over the place admonishing drivers that if they don't yield the right-of-way, they'll be faced with a $118.50 fine. Apparently the $118 fine just wasn't getting the message across.)
Anyway, they yelled back to the half-dozen adolescent boys following them who also ran out in the middle of the road to cross the street. Over a white t-shirt trimmed in sequins, the woman wore a pink cardigan, also decked out in sequins. Seriously, are sequins ever in style outside of a cocktail party or the seventh grade?
An elderly couple is making their way past me as I type this. The man is moving with the aid of a walker and just stopped short to tell his wife, “My pants are falling down.” He then stood there while she slowly made her way around him and hitched them up for him.
A bus (the public transit kind, not the smokey VW kind) just dropped someone off at The Beach Club across the street. The bus system here is called SCAT, which just wouldn't have made me snicker before internet porn made every fetish known to every person who did a Google search. I very much look forward to the Google hits I get off this post, in fact.
So you can tell that Siesta Village in Sarasota is really a happening place. And if you find yourself in the area of the Tropical Breeze Resort and Spa before I head for home after the game on Saturday, bring some of that VW Bus action over my way.