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.
His grin flares, ignites the whole wolf packs'. They draw close: eyes hungry and hopeful. "And the other three [chicks]?"
"What about the guy?"
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.