The Veríssimo Project

She (young, beautiful, alone) had just finished rubbing tanning oil on her arms, after applying it to her legs, thighs and face. She looked around. A few meters from her, sitting on the sand, a man read the newspaper. No one else was around. She examined the man carefully. Wedding ring? Yes. Married. Thirty, Thirty-five. Definitely not ugly, though his nose was a tad long. She spoke:
- Why were you staring at me?
Startled, he turned towards her.
- Are you talking to me?
- Why were you staring at me?
- I’m sorry. I was not staring at you.
- Why not?
He laughed, not knowing what to say.
She continued:
- What do you want?
- Me? Nothing.
- Are you sure?
- I can assure you that…
- Nothing at all?
- Nothing. I swear.
- You weren’t imagining that fate placed us here, side by side on the same beach, with something in mind, a plan for us? You never considered saying a word to me? Asking me out? Having an affair?
- Nope. Not at all.
- Do you find me repulsive?
- No! Really. It’s just that…
Here it comes, she thought. He’s gonna tell me he’s a homosexual. Or impotent. Or, my God, that his wife died yesterday! But all he says is:
- Look, the last thing I am looking for right now is emotional involvement, ok? Don’t take this the wrong way. You are a very attractive girl. I’m just not interested.
Perfect, she thought. Just one more thing:
- Is your wife around?
- My wife? No.
Perfect. She got up, walked over to him, sat down beside him and asked:
- Will you rub oil on my back?