I keep my mind and eyes open for surreal experiences.
I haven’t had many.
Until the other day in Key West…
A statue smiled at me. A quick smile. Gone in an instant.
But I’m sure I saw it.
I walked closer.
Was he a street artist posing as a statue?
But his mouth turned up into a perfect smile. (You can see in the photo that its normal state is an even expression, not a smile.)
I had stopped to take a photo of these naked dancing ladies.
There’s something about naked ladies, especially plumper ones, that makes me think of Friend for the Ride.
You know, body image and menopause.
Granted the sun was hot. One squints, even with sunglasses.
Granted Key West is nicknamed KEY WEIRD.
Granted the margaritas and mojitos flow here, although up to that point in the day, I had only imbibed in Coke Zero and Lipton Tea.
But I saw that smile as clearly as my own hand.
The smile was a sign.
Naked is good!
Plump. A bit dimpled. A bit saggy is good too.
I told my family the story when I returned to our beach house. My son-in-law commented that a guy on the street told him clothing laws are quite loose there.
Next year, who knows!
If one were brave enough to take off her clothes in February for a little dancing, Key West would be a great location.
I’m not going to let the man paint me though.
Not sure I’d see that smile again.
But once was enough!