So I’m headed off to seek my fortune in Sin City before going back to work from maternity leave. Hey, baby needs a college fund.
My main goal is to lay by the pool and let a man bring me drinks with umbrellas in them. So yesterday I pulled out the two swimsuits that I own that haven’t been worn since last summer that time I went to the neighborhood pool. Not loving the fit of the five-year-old gems, I decided to check out what was left at the store.
Note to wise readers: do not wait until Labor Day to purchase a swimsuit. While I did not expect the selection to be vast, there was precious little of anything.
But here’s the biggest puzzle: there were probably 150-200 swim bottoms left, and maybe, if you stretch the number, 25 tops. Who’s buying swim tops and not bottoms? Don’t you need both pieces? I’m not saying there were not many cute tops. There were hardly any at all. I’ve heard of topless beaches, but never bottomless ones. And if they do exist, are that many people in Little Rock flocking to them in such numbers as to skew what’s left in the stores? I realize that I don’t get out as much as I used to, but this is the sort of phenomenon I figure I would have heard about.
As far as my personal quest, I finally found possibly the last swimsuit, both top and bottom, in the city in my size. It’s silver and garish and will be great in Vegas and nowhere else. However, the upside to waiting until Labor Day is that I paid just $15 for it.