I love to sunbathe. Love that feeling of the sun on my skin. Love that satisfying tan line where you can see how pale you were and how brown you’ve gone after all that hard work lying motionless 91 million miles away from that lovely burning star.
Me in a year or two
I take any opportunity to bake. In summer months I wear a bikini under my clothes to work and sneak off to the local park for an hour, stripping down shamelessly among the dog walkers and suited sandwich eaters. I’m the first to jump out of bed on holiday, expertly bending myself Cirque du Soleil-stylee (pun intended) into the corner of the balcony to catch the first couple of inches of dawn rays as they creep across the floor.
On this occasion it was one of those lovely, lazy Saturdays where you have no plans and I was out on my old flat’s communal balcony soaking up the sun. Headphones in and cooking nicely, I drifted off to sleep. Or as I like to think of it: multi-tasking.
I woke up sometime later to find my neighbour spray painting her garden chairs gold. As you do.
Now readers, please know I have nothing against DIY.
BUT, as my eyes adjusted in the bright bright light, I realised the chairs weren’t the only thing that had been sprayed gold.
My coverage was patchier. Oh, and Connery wasn’t there.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you” she explained as I sat up gesturing – words failed me – for an explanation.
SHE DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE ME.
SHE DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE ME SO SHE DECIDED TO SPRAY HER CHAIRS GOLD RIGHT NEXT TO WHERE I WAS SUNBATHING AND SPRAY ME GOLD TOO IN THE PROCESS.
What kind of crazy human person would knowingly spray paint another human person, happy in the knowledge that at least they weren’t disturbing their nap?!
Plus our balcony was big enough that she could have easily chosen another spot and I might have only come away with a few tasteful gold freckles. Which would have been FINE and possibly quite vogue.
I was looking to get bronzed that day but she really took the biscuit.