itchy

It was hot, dry, summer day in Provo. Kids were literally sitting outside frying eggs on the road. My friend Brian and I decided it would be the perfect opportunity for us to go to 7 Peaks, a local water park, to cool off. We walked into the park. Children were laughing and running about. The water felt cool against our skin. The slides were more slippery than ever. Tubes were plentiful and full of air. We took a run down our favorite ride, “The Boomerang.” As is customary, I made Brian go backwards seeing as how he hates it so much. It was the perfect day to face any fears. We slid down a few more slides, then decided to take a break and lay by the wave pool. We laid on our towels and the pavement was warm beneath us. We laid a moment, talking and delighting in the glory of the day. Brian sat up for a moment to tell me something.
And then his face turned marvelously pale. His eyes widened and I thought I saw a trickle of a tear form in the corner of his eye. But what caused such great alarm in my friend? I had to find out.
“Brian! What is it? Are you ok? Do you need to lay in the shade for a moment? Is everything alright?” Questions such as these arose. But he was speechless to add to my level of concern.
I noticed he was not looking directly at me. At all. I turned to see what was behind me. A greater mistake I have never made.
There stood a woman, tall, thick, and suited in green. Swim suited that is. But this was not the cause of such great alarm, no. She had pulled out the bottoms of her swim suit away from her belly, creating an area of space between her belly and her suit.
To my great astonishment, she then spread out her hand and stuck it in the front of where her bathing suit ought to be. In other words, she went for a BARE frontal scratch. In public. With little kids around.
Needless to say, my friend Brian is now traumatized for life.