Dr. Lexi the Trollop?
December 26, 2018
I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! I am spending my holiday at my favorite place in the whole wide world, the Los Suenos Resort, on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica.
I have decided to share an amusing story that happened to me in the middle of the afternoon at the pool bar of the Marriott Hotel, on Christmas Eve. It was amusing to me anyway, but then I am used to getting hate mail from the Morals Police, so I am not easily offended. Although I am not staying at the hotel, the pool is an amenity.
I bought a new bikini in Tampa, where I live, for my trip down here. Yes, I tried it on before I packed it. I’m smart enough to know not to wear a bikini in public without wet testing it first, which I didn’t do in Tampa but did do here in the pool of the estate where I’m staying in Los Suenos.
To be honest, the bikini was somewhat sheer(er) when it was wet than it was when it was dry, but I didn’t think it wasn’t tasteful. It did occur to me though that it might be somewhat edgy.
So, let me explain my thinking. I am a 47 year old woman, living in 2018. I’m not a member of the “me too” movement, or the Morals Police. I appreciate the attention I get from men, and it makes me feel good about myself. I have never considered myself a “victim”. I am visiting a country where prostitution is legal.
I didn’t think it would be any big deal if my bikini top showed a little bit more nipple detail than I intended. I was not embarrassed to wear it. I am a woman who does not wear panties. I have no prudish tendencies.
So, I was in the pool, at the bar, sitting on one of those toadstool looking, bar stools, or whatever they are called. I was eating my lunch, which consisted of twelve extra crispy French fries, and one of the many Bloody Mary’s I consumed that day.
You know how old people talk too loud? There was a couple sitting beside the pool looking at me. I couldn’t say for sure at the time if they were just older, or elderly, but based on the post research I had to do after what this woman said about me, in order to understand what she meant, I would say elderly, but that’s just me.
“Stanley, look at that trollop! You can see her nipples!” The woman said. She was pointing at me. I was munching on one of my beloved, but severely self limited supply of French fries, because the older I get, the harder it is to keep my body shape.
“I can’t see her nipples.” Stanley said, trying to defend my virtue, unless his eyesight was bad.
“Well, I never!” The woman said. Stanley said nothing. I was trying to pretend this was not happening, except that now everyone that heard her and Stanley talking about me, was looking at me.
I’m in a pool, sitting on a cement mushroom bar stool thing, so where am I going to go? I ate another French fry.
“Let’s go, Stanley!” The woman said. Stanley reluctantly got to his feet. It looked to me like it was reluctantly, anyway. Then I finally found my voice. I decided to treat this woman the same way I treat the people that send me hate mail because I wanted her to know I was responding to her.
“Have a nice day!” I called after them. Stanley turned around and smiled. She did not. It was quiet for a moment, or maybe longer, I’m not sure.
“You go girl!” A woman wearing a Canadian flag bikini, sitting beside me on the next toadstool said. I smiled at her.
“Your top is fine.” She said.
“What’s a trollop?” I asked. She didn’t know, and neither did any of the other Xgens, Millennials, or Boomers, in the pool, because nobody had their cell phone handy in the pool.
The rest of the story:
I knew that the woman had insulted me OK? I was clear on that, but I wanted to know what a trollop was. I never heard the word before and had no idea how to spell it. It took me a few tries to get close enough that spell check could find the word for me.
Here it is, in case you don’t know either. It turns out to be an archaic term.
1. An offensive term that deliberately insults a woman who is a prostitute, or who is reputed to be sexually promiscuous.
Hmm . . . So, here’s my question, since she nailed it. I wonder how this old woman could have possibly known so much about me, just because she thought I was showing just a little too much nipple detail, unless she is psychic?