A Swimming Thong

Glenn wanted to die. The rack wasn’t filled with swimsuits—it was bikinis. A colorful assortment of bikini tops and bottoms, some in pastel colors, others in bright, playful patterns.

His mother smiled at Jenny. “Thank you for your service.”

Jenny grinned. “Want to try a top, too?”

“No!” Glenn blurted out immediately.

His mother chuckled. “Or maybe just… not yet.”

Before he could process what she meant, she reached for a skimpy black thong, holding it up for Jenny to see.

“Do you have this in a women’s size small?”

Jenny tapped her chin. “Let me check.” She pulled out a tablet and began searching.

Glenn felt like the world was spinning around him. This couldn’t be real.

Minutes passed in agonizing silence before Jenny finally looked up. “We do, but not in black. Can you accept pink? Or white with red polka dots?”

His mother turned to him. “Which one do you want, dear?”

Glenn’s mouth went dry. Both choices were terrible.