Bathing Costumes Must Be Worn at All Times

Argh. Why are earth would I say I wanted to go to Key West?

When going to Key West involves buying a bathing costume?

Yes, I said costume -- cause that is so what it is.

David and I are headed to Key West at the end of September. We will meet friends there and spend four days in the sun, rolling cigars, eating, and looking for Hemingway and his five-toed cats.

My friend Laura: You have to get a bathing suit. It would be ridiculous for you to go down there and go on boats or scuba dive without a bathing suit.

My friend Marilyn: You can’t go out on boats without a bathing suit. It just looks odd.

Me: I like ridiculous. I like odd. I no likey bathing suits.

I bit the bullet.

Me: Okay, okay -- I wouldn't want to be ridiculous or odd. RMEs.

I am no shopper.

I’d really rather “chew on tin foil” as my friend Brendan would say.

In fact, I hate shopping in general unless it's Publix or Total Wine.

So, I go online. Not as painful I think -- no lurking sales clerk, no public embarrassment as others look and see you are trying on a bathing suit and run like cockroaches.

Argh.

I head to Land's End website.

Argh. Again.

I thought it would be easy - you know -- find a really big suit in black with the same dimensions as a pup tent and be done. Oh no, it's not that easy -- Land's End has more choices than the burrito line at Moe's.

Too many choices, too many colors, too many clicks, too many questions -- just downright too much. America. Why can't we make things simpler? There is such a thing as over choice. It's dangerous. It makes people sweat. Give back things they never took. Lie. Sell their momma.

I wish I could have a government issued bathing suit.

Government: Here you go, ma’m. One standard issue black bathing costume … full coverage - head to toe.

Me: Thank you so much. I will wear it with pride.

*sigh*

For once, I could use their interference.

I get on Land’s End’s website and immediately call my friend Laura. If the government can't help me, I know Laura can -- she can shop.

Me: Laura. I’ve caved. I’m looking at bathing suits, but I can’t do it.
Laura: Sure you can.
Me: Will you get on the website with me?
Laura: Sure. Quit panicking. Women buy bathing suits all the time.
Me: Not this woman. I haven’t had a bathing suit since 1988.
Laura: That’s not something I would share.
Me: I don’t care. Just help me get this over with.
Laura: Okay, quit acting like a crack head.

With Laura’s help, we wander the website looking at the options, the colors, the sizes.. I like the idea of “tummy control” and “minimizer.” I wish it said "look thirty years younger" or "take you back to 1972."

So, after a half hour on the phone, I fill up my shopping cart with three different options of bathing suits and they will arrive in the mail. Oh goody!

The price of shipping was $18.00 -- must be coming by truck.

Big truck, I guess. Makes sense -- these are not bikinis. I know, I know -- TMI.

There will be no update on this particular blog.

:)