Wednesday, September 9, 2015

I must be pretty in Greece

Today was a great day. 

It began before people started leaving for work or their sightseeing with a run through the National Gardens. 

It moved into a food tour, which included such treats as feta, honey, feta with honey, this donut-like thing with honey, spanakopita, custard-filled pastry, fresh grapes, pastrami (the Greek version) and more. It also included trying camel meat and walking through the meat market, which had skinned but otherwise whole animal heads. I wasn't repulsed at all. 

( I was.)

Then, after a long morning of walking slowly, eating and making new friends, I went to the beach. I've decided this will be my backup plan for any and all free time a reasonable distance from a beach. I alternated between lying on the beach and lying in the water. The temperature even dropped enough that I didn't get sunburnt... much. 

Shortly after I woke up from a nap in a panic ("Someones going to steal my stuff if I fall asleep in the water! Wait, I'm on the beach using my stuff as a pillow. And I have much bigger problems if I fall asleep in the Aegean Sea.") I'm debating whether to go in one way more time. It's pleasant in the water, but it's nice on the beach too. Vacation decisions, man! They are the worst. 

Then some guy a few feet away asks if I'll take his picture. I said yes, took one, went for another while he tried to strike a sexy pose (this is true, I made a mental note to make fun of him.), then he motioned at my towel and his, as if to move them together. Note: he spoke French, but his phone was on an Arabic-looking language. We did not communicate well. Which is fine, he just needed me to take a couple more pictures. Fine. More chest out sexy shots. And we're done!

Is what I would say if he'd just sat back on his towel and left me alone. Instead, he moved his stuff over to me, spread it out, asked if I wanted something to drink and began systematically removing the physical objects between us and brushing sand off my back. 

Where is my go-to-hell look when I need it?!? I am not friendly. I have no come-hither look. I did not look hot in any way, shape or form. We couldn't even talk to each other, for crying out loud. I didn't know his name. 

That did not stop him from, in less than 10 minutes, putting his arm around me and going in for a kiss. Dude, no. 

This, by the by, should not stop you from solo traveling if you're so inclined, but you should be aware that people approach single women more and more aggressively. Fortunately, no is universally understood, though you may have to say it several times while you're getting up and leaving. 

Fun fact: I was wondering how long I had to stay to be polite, and then I remembered a line from "Unbreakable Kimmy Schmitt" when one of the hostages told Matt Lauer she went with the kidnapper to be polite and he said, "I'm amazed at what women will do to be polite." 

So I was rude! Except I think my rudeness was quite swallowed up in his invasion of my personal space because he wanted to. Anyway, the no word. Say it loud and say it often (unless you are one of my friends' toddlers). 

I did not leave the beach, however. I went somewhere else and stayed a few more minutes, long enough to catch an air show from Greece's fighter pilots. It was fun -- probably even worth the raging headache I now have because of the stress of lying around doing nothing. Pity me. 
Hot dogs or my legs?


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