SNIPS, SNAILS AND PUPPY DOG TAILS
KOROR,
Palau – Matriarchal society or no, the dock
here is yet another boy's club.
Oh, I'd be all awed and cowed and aquiver. Except my father is an ex-Marine househusband; I've been schooled to bake focaccia and rip people's faces off... not that either skill's been commandeered lately. But John Castleman taught me to write off small fry.
"You diving?" one bloke sneers.
"Hel!, yeah."
His grin flares, ignites the whole wolf packs'. They draw close: eyes hungry and hopeful. "And the other three [chicks]?"
"Of course."
"What about the guy?"
"He snorkels."
Laughter cracks like a coconut, shotgunned from a palm. "That's not normal," one chokes out.
"Should be," I smile, then swagger off stage left.
Y'all gonna burn those bikini tops next, Ms Fierce Feminist?
ReplyDeleteOf course not. Freelance writers barely earn enough for clothes. We can't be wasting 'em to underscore a victory won long ago...
ReplyDeleteBack off, rougenape! CHICKS can be hard-core divers without being saddled with the dread "F" word.
ReplyDeleteVery true, divergrrrrl. But isn't it time to take back the "f" word already?
ReplyDeleteAnd do you really want to mess up his bikini-burning dream? Probably the only bright spot in his sad, redneck world...