The Green French Bathing Suit

August 22, 2012

I promised that you would only ever find the Truth on here. I plan to stick to that promise. This story will be one of the more embarrassing stories I put on here…but I will tell the Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth. I call it: “The Green French Bathing Suit”. Where to start, though? Let’s see. Well, the Summer before my Senior year of High School (this Summer) I took a vacation to France with my family…

*Insert Another Dreamy Transition*

For starters, the vacation was amazing. Before we went, I’d heard a lot of stories about the French hating American tourists and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t slightly scare me as we boarded our plane to Paris. But, as I said, the vacation was amazing. We spent two weeks in the fashionable European country, starting in Paris and making our way down to Nice and Cannes and stopping in a ton of cities along the way. (I spent my 17th birthday in a little French town called Sarlat…that’s a fun story, I should tell it sometime.) Anyway, The story that I’d like to tell you today takes place in Paris. More specifically, the Marais Neighborhood.

Would a vacation in Paris really be a vacation in Paris if you didn’t go clothes shopping? Probably not. I mean, it’s the Fashion Capital of the World. Anyway, Mom and Dad had given Molly (my Sister) and I some Euros to go adorn ourselves in our favorite French garb. So, we made a trip to the Marais Neighborhood where, according to Rick Steves (the tour book author), we would find the best local shopping.

There’s something you should know about the Marais neighborhood before I continue this story. It is dubbed the “gay community”of Paris. To clarify, I hold absolutely no prejudice. I believe everyone is free to be themselves. But this post isn’t about my personal beliefs and you’re free to believe whatever you want. The point is, Molly and I were shopping in a neighborhood that consisted mainly of gay men. Believe it or not, that is relevant to the story.

So, there we were. Two kids with Euros to spend let loose into a neighborhood full of the greatest clothing outlets you’ll ever see. After a few stops, I’d already gained some blue Fred Perry kicks and sepia toned Spitfire shades. Life was good. It was about to get better…

Again, before I go any further, there’s something else you should know…I love short shorts. Maybe it’s a Cross Country thing. Jeremy (a great friend of mine on the Team) and I had both bought these super short swimming trunks (the red ones in the picture above) back in Panama City Beach and I absolutely loved them. So, I may or may not have been on the lookout for another pair as Molly and I walked through the Marais Neighborhood.

As I was saying, Life was about to get better. This was because, all of a wonderful sudden, we stumbled across a bathing suit store…and there it was. Ignoring all the tempting Speedos, (some of  which had huge holes cut out on the butt) I saw it. A Green French Bathing Suit. Even though it was a cloudy evening, I’m 99% sure a single beam of sunlight shot forth from the clouds and landed perfectly on this Green French Bathing Suit. It was so short! I was in love at first sight.

“Molly…” I rasped, “Molly I…I have to own that Green French Bathing Suit.”

So, we went into the store. Instantly, I became very aware of the fact that this was, after all, a skimpy bathing suit store in a gay neighborhood. Posters of basically naked men lined the walls and dozens upon dozens of the skimpiest little bathing suits were hung up on racks everywhere. I saw the ones I wanted immediately. There was only one pair left hanging on it’s rack. My Green French Bathing Suit. I snatched it up and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that it was my size. Just to make sure, though, I thought I ought to try it on.

I went back into one of the changing rooms and took a good look at the Green French Bathing Suit. It was short. So short that if I left my boxers on as I tried them on, my boxers would stick out.

Well, I thought I mean, to get the full experience…I might as well just try them on properly. Without my boxers.

I stripped down into my Birthday Suit and slipped into the Green French Bathing Suit. I wasn’t mistaken in how short it was. It was even shorter than the red suit I’d gotten at Panama City Beach. I loved it, though. I examined myself in the mirror, checking to see that it looked okay. I don’t know what made me notice this…but I suddenly saw a sign in the corner of the changing room. It said something in French, then it repeated it in Spanish, and then it repeated it in English.

The English section read: “Please leave undergarments on when trying on swimwear.”

Oh well, I thought I’m going to buy these anyway, so what does it matter?

Without another worry, I continued to examine the Green French Bathing Suit in the mirror. Then two things happened at the same time. One: I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. And two: a thought occurred to me.

How would they know…anyway…? I thought as I turned to see a small TV monitor in the wall. The monitor was displaying…me! Me from the midriff…down!

The angle of that footage…the camera is behind the mirror! I thought as I turned frantically to face the mirror. A sticker (that must have magically appeared in the corner) suddenly became apparent to me…

It said: “You are being recorded for security purposes.”

That camera had been recording me the whole time! I had just stripped down to the buff in front of that camera!

It’s fine. It’s fine. They probably don’t even bother checking the cameras. Why would they? I don’t look suspicious, do I? They don’t have any reason to suspect me of stealing. I quickly changed back into my clothes, suddenly very aware of the fact that I, indeed, did not have my boxers on underneath this Green French Bathing Suit.

I left the changing room and took the longest walk of me life up to the cashier to purchase my Green French Bathing Suit. I reached the register and placed the skimpy suit on the counter. The clerk quickly scanned the tag and rang me up the total cost. As I was reaching for my money and counting out the proper amount…I noticed something. Out of the corner of my eye…I saw the cashiers computer screen…Oh, boy.

On the cashiers computer screen was a live feed from every single camera in the store. Including, you guessed it, the camera in the changing room. I just about burst into laughter right there. Stifling my giggles with a cough, I quickly paid for the Green French Bathing Suit and left.

I barely made it ten steps out the door before I started laughing so hard I almost cried. Struggling to control my laughter, I told my sister exactly what happened.

Some random French skimpy bathing suit salesman (presumably gay, maybe not, let’s not make assumptions) had seen me naked from the waist down.

I’ll tell you what, though, my Green French Bathing Suit was totally worth it.

-Brian Wiegand (An Idiot, A Superman in training)

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