A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164j)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164j)

That evening’s scheduled entertainment was a ‘Big Band” concert with music in the old Glen Miller style. I grew up listening to his music on 78rpm records as my parents were really into jazz and big bands. While in college there was a touring group who played his arrangements and they were pretty good so I was looking forward to the show. Wanting a good seat I wanted to get there early but with only one full day left on our trip I also wanted to get down to the hotel beach after we ate. At dinner I’d heard some people at the table next to us talking about some sort of phenomenon that took place each September along the South shore of the island. All the sand would wash away from the shore and build up to make a sand bar about 100 yards offshore. Then, in the Spring, it would all wash back and recreate the beach. I’d gathered that the process had started and wanted to witness it while I could. We had an hour to kill before the doors opened so I persuaded Elle to go. We’d timed how long it took to go down the 151 steps and then back to the top. Down, it took less than ten minutes if we didn’t stop at the two landing areas but coming back took more because our legs couldn’t take it. I quickly figured that gave us roughly a half hour to actually witness it. When we reached the patio area at the bottom of the stairs we found a whole bunch of people there observing the beach disappearing, wave by wave. It was really something to see nature at work.

Now, one thing we hadn’t given any thought to was the possibility that Elle might need toilet… at least I hadn’t. We were dressed and ready for the 6pm seating for dinner around 5:30pm and had gone down to the lobby to take a look at some of newspapers from the mainland. I’d discovered that every afternoon about six papers, all from major cities, would be available at the lobby desk. After glancing through the Wall Street Journal to catch up on our stocks we went in to eat. Upon leaving we'd headed right for the stairs to the beach. With each incoming wave a little more sand was scoured away. The waves sort of rolled in, not ‘crashing’ like you see in many pictures, and made a ‘whooshing’ sound as they rolled past where we were standing. Elle and I were holding hands about ten feet from the edge of the patio when I felt her squeeze my hand. I looked at her and the look on her face told me what her problem was. I looked over my shoulder and saw the beach concession had closed knew it was a BIG problem for her as it was closed. By that time most of the people we’d seen there upon our arrival had left. I gently pulled Elle towards the edge where some water had made it’s way up onto the patio. I whispered to her that it was probably best to spread her legs a bit and just let it go and I’d stand between her and the few people who were left. I wanted to watch her puddle grow but didn’t dare. It didn’t take long for her to tap me on the shoulder to let me know she’d finished. As I turned to look at her I took a  quick glance at the concrete and was happy to see that more sea water had splashed up and there was no discernible puddle. The question was did any falling pee get into her skirt. It was getting dark and the remaining people had started their climb to the top so we had a few minutes alone. I asked her what had happened. I’d checked my watch and she was within her usual 2 1/2 to 3 hour’ window so was bit puzzled. Her answer was that she’d had too much water to drink in a short period of time.

As I said, I’d wanted to get to the entertainment early to get a good viewing place and it was already after 8pm, the time the doors opened. Elle proceeded me to the stairs and I, quite boldly, put my hand up under the hem of her skirt and found her panties (2) to be really wet. That would mean a trip back to the room and that we’d be late for the show. I wasn’t mad at Elle by any means but wasn’t happy with the situation either. When we reached the top I asked Elle (and I still can’t believe I did) if she’d go back to the room to get washed up and change her panties alone so I could get us a decent place to sit. If she’d had a baseball bat I’m sure she would’ve hit me in the head with it. Before she said anything the recreation director walked by. He had a big smile, as always, and then said he remembered we were celebrating an anniversary and asked which one. I told him it was our 10th and as soon as he heard it he grabbed Elle’s hand and started pulling her towards the main building. I can’t recall Elle making a big protest but she did make an attempt. I was almost left behind as the two of them hastily headed for the entryway. Inside, he led us to an area right outside the room where the event was to take place and motioned for us to step in front of an ugly looking drape. Almost on cue, a photographer appeared.

 
We were then led to a table that can only be described as ‘front and center’. Elle told me later she felt embarrassed and not because her panties were wet but of the attention that we were getting. For me, my concern was Elle. I’d been unable to see any evidence of any pee being on her dress from her ‘accident’ but now she was going to have to sit down. I remember praying that this was the end of the attention that we’d been getting. Four other couples were seated with us and all were there for their 10th anniversary. We chatted for a few minutes before, thankfully, the music began.

We were encouraged to get up and dance but I ’took the heat’ and claimed an injury. To my (our) good fortune, it was the guy leading the band who’d called on us to dance and not the recreation director who knew I was just fine. We escaped that ‘bullet’ but the next one was when it was time to leave. Elle had been in deep conversation with the lady seated next to her and it continued as the others around the table departed. Being down in front gave us some latitude as the people seated behind us had to exit first. I deftly maneuvered myself to be right behind Elle as she stood up. I also encouraged the other couple to lead the way so we were, for all intents and purposes, the last to leave.

In the elevator Elle started to laugh. I couldn’t imagine why and when I asked her answer made me laugh… “I can’t believe I just sat there for two hours in wet pants.” I couldn’t either but the reality of it was she didn’t have a choice. Back in the room I told her I was proud of her for not making a fuss when the activities director grabbed her hand. She made a ’face’ but then smiled. We inspected her dress and that was definitely a problem. We found the yellow stain wouldn’t wash completely out with plain water. It was one of her favorite ‘dressy’ dresses. I suggested that if cleaned professionally it might come out and, worst case, she might have to have it dyed. It wasn’t the way I wanted to end the day but, all in all, we had made some good memories. We had one more full day to make more and the glass bottom boat ride we’d won was sure to be a good one.

To be continued…