I have always been pale as a ghost. I barely register in photos, and when I do, I’m either blending in with the white walls, or red from either the sun or embarrassment. When placed in sunlight, I go from white to red in five minutes, and it never fades into a tan. White. Red. Back to white. Goddamn cheap Irish skin.
So when SquirrelBoy suggested an afternoon in the park, I immediately thought “I don’t have SPF 948090, so…no.” But I like SquirrelBoy, and it was a beautiful day, so we went anyway. I was completely overdressed for the park in my short dress and huge platform Chucks, but I persisted! I was going to be a normal person who goes outside and greets nature without scowling and whining! This was A Thing that was going to happen. So we went, and put a blanket in the grass, and sat in the sun listening to Schubert. It was really nice.
Five minutes in:
Him: Baby, are you too hot?
Me: NO! I’m fine! (wipes sweat from upper lip, smiles winningly)
Him: Do you want my shirt?
Me: No! Yes! Okay, maybe that would be a good idea.
Him: I just ask because you’re glowing, and I think you’re already getting red.
Me: Oh, fantastic. Yes, I would like your shirt.
So he draped his shirt over my shoulders and lay down, his skin perfectly bronze in the sun, as I sat huddled under his black t-shirt, trying not to mumble “it burns…it buuuuuuurns!” like Regan does in The Exorcist when exposed to holy water. I fumbled with my blackout sunglasses, since the only part of my body more sensitive to sun than my skin are my eyes, and tried to relax. Then we saw them.
I fucking hate geese.
They were lurking by the pond, slowly making their way closer to us, and SquirrelBoy mumbled “fuckin’ geese are coming” as I started to recoil. A goose bit me when I was a kid, and when I was a nanny one CHARGED the little boy I was watching and I had to tackle him out of the way and shield him with my body as this obviously rabid goose tried to attack us. So I am not a fan of geese. Nasty little buggers.
Him: Maybe they don’t like Schubert.
Me: Maybe they don’t like us.
Him: Maybe your skin will blind them.
Me: It’s my mutant power. Ultraviolet skin.
The geese kept their distance, and we watched a couple getting frisky whilst thinking they were being stealth (they weren’t) and SquirrelBoy took some pictures of us with his phone as I sweated through his shirt and my makeup, and decided to make up a story about the frisky couple.
Me: It’s clearly an affair. Look at us, we’re not getting to third base in the middle of a goose poop strewn park. They’re married. And not to each other.
Him: He’s totally getting to third base. There are children here!
Me: I once saw a couple having sex in Boston Common. They weren’t stealthy either. No one plays horsie rides in the middle of a park.
Him: Wanna get to third base?
Me: Ah, no. I do not want to get to third base in a minefield of goose shit. I’m wacky like that.
Then he put baby oil on his back to roast some more. Baby oil! I’m here wishing I had a bedsheet to wrap completely around myself like a mummy, and boy is BASTING HIMSELF to get tan. I do not understand this. It does not compute. But we had a good time, and didn’t get bitten by geese, and that’s all that matters.
PS to the Friskies: You were really doing that in front of Goddo and everyone, weren’t you? I hope you took showers in bleach afterwards, cause you’re effing covered in goose poo.