A Lesson In Confidence For Bathing Suit Season
Like most people who don’t spend their lives at the gym, every swimsuit season causes me some measure of unease. This year, though, was set to top all. Keith Lewis, the director of the Miss California USA pageant and a friend of mine, asked me to advise him on a book project he has in the works. The Miss USA show was taping in Las Vegas, so Keith wanted me to fly out for a couple days to get a behind-the-scenes look.
“We can have our meetings by the pool,” he offered. “So much better than the office, right?”
It’s obvious, isn’t it, that Keith himself is a buff, beautiful male specimen? Only a person like that would think it’s a good idea to sit around by a pool in a place where 20-year-olds from around the nation, engineered for optimal beauty and firmness, are certain to congregate.
I imagine walking poolside at a swanky hotel, the sun beating down on my fish-belly white skin, as I struggle to keep the towel that’s tucked around me from slipping. I seek refuge in the form of a little heavily-shaded table in a far corner … but just when I think I’m safe, a thundering herd of Glamazons in heels materializes before me, looking like moving bronze sculptures in string bikinis. Before I can get out of their way, the Glamazons barge past me and whip the towel out of my grip. Suddenly, I’m standing exposed to …
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