Late Night Bikini Drama

3:00 AM. I'm out on the patio after a night out drinking with A.T. at Slingshots. He headed home, I had dinner and finished a movie ("Burn After Reading", a film that should have been titled "Burn Before Watching"), took care of some things inside, then came out to do some writing.

I hear voices from behind me, and suddenly CGWI is standing next to my patio.

In a bikini.

I turn, and I see her roommate (also in a bikini) behind her, along with a dude. If not for the dude, this story would not be a blog entry, but a letter to a long-standing men's publication.

She asks me if it's going to bother me if they get in the hot tub. I say not at all. She explains that the landlady has been keeping a close eye on her, giving her trouble (one wonders why), and I assume she's well aware that no one's supposed to be in the pool area after 10:00 PM. I say it's fine with me. She thanks me, they go get in the hot tub. All seem quite tipsy, but hey, so was I a couple of hours ago. Fair's fair. I write onward, working on some new possible track names to contribute to Geoff Liver and his Space Orchestra's in-production album (don't ask). CGWI's cell phone goes off a couple of times over there, which I know because she has a music ring tone and it's turned up loud enough to wake both the King of Pop and Farrah Fawcett-Majors.

Soon the roommate comes back through the gate, says thank you to me (for what? Who made me Lord of the Hot Tub? Her roommate's dad OWNS the place) and good night, and heads back to their apartment. After just a couple of minutes, I hear her calling down to CGWI and the dude. I don't make out all of it, but I get "You guys...we're in so much trouble...cops...". Er?

CGWI and the dude come back out and head back to the apartment. I wait to see if any cops come up. None do. I can only assume, by deduction, that maybe the landlady called the apartment and told them to get out of the tub or she was going to call the cops? Hard to say. Why would she call the apartment if she knew they were in the hot tub? Unless, as I've long suspected, she has hidden cameras in all the apartments and saw the roommate stroll back in.

Regardless, it appears there's more demerits in CGWI's column on the landlady's death list. But is it a fight an otherwise power-mad apartment manager can win when trumped by the might of nepotism?

Stay tuned...

P.S. It's nice, at least, to be asked. That's a merit checked off on her column on MY list for courtesy. And courtesy goes a lot further when delivered in a bikini.