Summer Vacay, 2021. Day 9
Nothing beats a pair of red RayBads.
Cheaters and the Cinque Terra
August 10, 2021
I have my cheaters on. I’d forgotten how useful sunglasses are when pretending you are not staring. We are seated and my gaze naturally goes to the rumps crossing in my line of sight, and this is all I have to say. If I can tell your underwear is three sizes too small, its time for bigger pants.
The town seen from above. The ‘hook’ middle frame is where it all happens.
We are in the town of Vernnaza, one of five beautiful hamlets that make up this dotted arc along the Ligurian sea. The main drag is full of tourists and it seems most of what is for sale is tchotchkes, which prompted me to wonder: does any one actually live here?
Sandy and I have managed to score a table in a beautiful restaurant overlooking a beach that merges into a esplanade jutting out into the sea. We have a front row seat to a premier human viewing location, also known as a Meat Rack, and it’s packed.
Usually this term is used for bars in the US. Places where singles go to see and be seen, and maybe score a little action. In Italy however, the see and be seen scenes are often on promenades and piazzas where everyone is invited to mingle, no matter the hour. The young men and woman are out in their most alluring, but so is grandma with her shopping cart as well as the local children playing games. Nothing like a tacit reminder of what all that alluring leads to.
Preening here strikes me as hopeless. I am struck by the absolute futility and irony of trying to distinguish oneself in this particular sun-drenched, bikini-saturated meat rack. It’s as if beauty has become so predictable it is banal. To stand out here you need to be different, and to be different, you need to be not gorgeous: you need to be an odd ball. In this environment being attractive and the desire for attention are seemingly incompatible. My eye, bored with the uniformity of careful styling, perfect tans, and nonchalance confidence unconsciously seeks the outliers. It hopscotches along until it falls on those unencumbered with a fashion sense, delights in their unpredictably and their VPL’s. They, in fact, demand my attention. Go figure.
I wouldn’t blame anyone if they put a bag over their entire body to escape the scrutiny of the Vernnaza meat Rack-o-Rama promenade. Andiamo!
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