There we were, cooling down in the sea next to the Burj (which incidentally is a LOT colder than it used to be) generally chewing the cud and gossiping. About what, I can't remember. Boys, fashion and make-up most probably. The first time we heard a cry of 'help' we all looked at one another blankly. "Did we really just hear that". Then we heard it again - coming from a woman, quite far out - and very clearly shouting and in distress. The lifeguards didn't appear to have heard her.
L and I looked at one another in horror. 1) I'm not into swimming in the sea 2) When I do swim I don't get my hair wet 3) I was wearing a pair of my favourite shades and didn't want to lose them 4) A strapless bacofoil bikini is not ideally suited to frantic sea-rescue missions. Thankfully J came to the rescue. "hold these" he bellowed as he thrust his Raybans into my hand, before proceeding to dive in, swim at high-speed, and pull the woman out from under the water. It was all very Baywatch, let me tell you!
L and I basked in J's reflected hero glory ("Our friend just saved that woman!") as she was led away by the lifeguards. We were imagining all sorts of drama - jellyfish sting, shark attack, but apparently she had 'got a bit tired' and couldn't stay afloat. Not that I'm being disparaging about her predicament. And obviously L and I would have helped out no-one else had stepped up. That's if the bacofoil bikini was up to it and I didn't burn her retinas out before we got to her! The whole incident was quite exhausting and we all retired to the sunloungers for a much needed snooze. No change there then!
1 comment:
Definitely we were separated at birth: I also would not get my hair wet, even when performing deep-sea rescue (or looking for suitable stud to delegtae the task to).
Glad she was okay... it could so easily have turned the other way. What WERE the lifeguards thinking? Don't they get their hair wet either?
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