Blowing cabana curtains striped green assaulted the feet of its inhabitants who layed prone on the beach chairs avoiding the sun like vicars – what exactly are vicars?

The girl in the blue bikini sells getaways and charters for parties. She’s presenting her schpeel and her phone rings. “Nikki, I’ll call you right back. Answer your phone.” A child on a quiet, electric scooter zips by. He has a helmet and drives around the fenced pool area. She’s a diver. She’s selling diving trips, going from community pool to community pool to community pool to sell. Would they talk to her if she wasn’t wearing the blue bikini?

She’s dirty blonde—dye job. Belly button ring (required) with a blue wrap covering her bikini bottom and legs. I saw them before, when she was selling her scuba trips and equipment to an older gentleman. Her legs need work. Speaking of work, she is selling for a local dive shop. “If you don’t shop at your local dive shop, there won’t be a local dive shop to shop in.”

She gathers more telephone numbers. She wears those sunglasses with half orange mirrored lenses. It’s strange to see those lenses: only cool people wear them. She knows one of the customers. The blue bathing suit guy has dived with her before. He’s a woman. He wears a blue fishing hat. He’s joking how they left him behind on one of their other diving trips. She calls him a woman. That’s Jimmy.

Her other customers, newer ones: the smoking guy is wearing an orange swim trumks (what do trunks—oh, as in covering up the trunks of the legs) and white coral necklace. She leaves after presenting and flirting. She has their numbers. She also has a hiking bag. I wonder where she’s hiking? Blue bag, lots of straps.