A short take on shorts

When girls bond and are always together, they tend to end up looking alike as they dress alike and style their hair alike. After a while, even their monthly periods recur on the same week! This is something a girl only notices in retrospect after looking at old pictures of her clique many years later.

I have vague memories of this until I went to visit the coastal part of Andalucia in Spain this summer. There happened to be a fair going on as the municipality I was staying in had a fiesta going on. The fair noises boomed loudly and could be heard from the balcony of the hotel I was billeted in. On the proddings of my beau, I succumbed to the calls of childish fun and went to the source of the noise.

After checking the stalls out and taking selfies against the silly backdrops typical of fairs, we decided to reminisce our youthful days by trying out the dreaded old-fashioned bump cars. I could only manage to survive one round and decided to sit out the next and watch as the beau rammed the others to avenge my burgeoning bruises.

As I sat on one of the benches, I couldn't help but notice a group of teen-aged girls clad in what seemed to be their gang "uniform": outrageously tiny frayed denim shorts. They all had this side parted long straight hair reaching till half way their torsos. They had on sports shoes with platform soles, stick-on lashes and assorted tiny tee-tops showing some hints of belly buttons, and shiny pink-orangey lipstick. Some of the girls looked outright comfy in this get-up, but some girls looked awkward. I assumed that the latter group must have just been introduced to this way of dressing and were still feeling too exposed in their outfit.

Some young very clean-cut boys wearing assorted clothing - no uniform there - were seated next to my bench. Then the girls started to walk in front of me in a bee-line towards the boys and kissed them twice each on both cheeks, said perfunctory "ola's" and resumed back to their old positions nearby the ride's tent.

Throughout this parade of beauties, I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, as it briefly brought me back to my adolescent years, wishing I had the courage to walk up to my crush, kiss him on both cheeks and say "wassup?" and coolly walk away.

As it happened, I barely missed my beau walking towards me, the last bump ride round apparently finished, and gave me a big sweet kiss on my lips. Not bad for a 51 year-old teener. ;-)