I hate wet clothes. I am not the girl that can go to the beach, go swimming, then put on her pants and have a wet crotch for the rest of the day. I can't do it. Sometimes I even opt NOT to get in the water for that very reason. Ideally, I make sure to swim first when I get to the beach so that I have plenty of time to dry off before it's putting-on-clothes time.
Well, one day in Costa Rica, we had ten people in one SUV plus one quad. I was riding on the back of the quad with Ted, the Californian. Here we are, happy and dry, on the way to the beach:
When it was time to go home, I hadn't had time to dry off, so I just put a towel on the seat, and sat on it with my wet butt, making sure to leave six inches of space between Ted's butt and my crotch.
At the stop sign, the SUV pulled up with all my other friends in it. Dustin rolled down his window and asked, "Donde esta... YOUR PANTS?"
|It's a good thing I'm wearing a helmet.|