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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Torm" data-source="post: 2483432" data-attributes="member: 12706">Okay, so not exactly an exotic locale, but I went to Branson, Missouri when I was 14. If you aren't familiar, Branson is a beautiful area in the Ozark mountains. Lots and lots of miniature golf, go cart joints, ampitheaters - Ray Price, Roy Clark, Boxcar Willie, Yo Yo Ma, and on and on, and Silver Dollar City, which is an excellent 1800's theme park owned by Dolly Parton. All of which somehow manage to sit in the middle of all of that natural beauty without ruining it - so far, anyway. I had actually been before, several times, but your thread reminds me of a particular visit because of a girl....I'm walking back to our hotel room from a nearby arcade, and in the process I have to, of course, pass the doors to several other rooms. One of the doors is sitting wide open. Okay, so, walking past. In my peripheral vision, I see two little boys playing on a Nintendo they have hooked to the hotel room TV, and a beautiful naked girl about the same age as me laying on a towel on the bed watching them. So, walking. Waitaminute ... what?! Certain that I couldn't possibly have seen what I just saw (and that if I had, I wanted another look <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f609.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=";)" title="Wink    ;)"  data-smilie="2"data-shortname=";)" /> ), I took a few steps backward. No mistake, I saw correctly. They all look up at me, I wave for lack of being able to think of anything better to do, then proceed onward again.A few steps later, the two boys come running out of the room to me, saying something along the lines of, "hey, she likes you," and they want us all to go do something - putt putt, go carts, whatever - together. Branson is just like that, naked girl or no naked girl. <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /> I have nothing better to do, so I say I'll be right back (I still needed to check in at our room, plus I figured she needed time to get dressed) and we'll go play putt putt.So, now I'm back, and she's put on shorts and a tank top, and we're walking to the miniature golf place and talking - more she and her brothers to each other than to me - and I'm starting to get the picture that she and I have very little in common. Her beauty ends at physical, and that is dramatically decreased with her dressed and out in the light of day, and she is an unsophisticated, uneducated sort. Oh well, miniature golf is fun just for itself, so ... on to golf.Golf is, of course, on me. We're making the rounds, and I'm a little disappointed by the whole experience, but I've started a conversation with the boys about the games they were playing, and I'm making the best of it. I line up a putt, and from behind me I hear the familiar sound of a lighter. (Both of my parents smoked like freight trains, especially when fighting.) I turn around and see the cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "And you smoke, too," I say, like it is the last step in an equation I've been working on in my head. And I just put my putter down on the green, and walk away.</blockquote>

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