Transplanted Life
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Well, why not?
So, I get up this morning, go down to the corner store to get the paper, clip some coupons, and realize that there's still hours of day left. With the Red Sox playing the ESPN night game today, I really had absolutely no excuse to hang around the apartment. Besides, it's a beautiful day. Clear blue sky, the thermomenter not deviating the slightest bit from eighty degrees, a slight breeze - summer days don't get much more perfect than this.

I'm grumbling about how it's too bad my mountain bike is somewhere on the other side of the country, being enjoyed by the person who should be rooting though this underwear drawer, when I find a bikini at the bottom of it. It's kitschy as hell - red, with big white polka dots. I don't think even Annette Funicello ever wore anything like this in real life. It must have been a gag gift, or something.

I'm holding the thing in my hands as I look out the apartment's one window. I look at it, back out the window, back down at the bikini, further down at Michelle's body as the bathrobe falls open, and I think, what the hell?

Really, that's about all I think. She's got my mountain bike, my DVDs, my books, my mint-condition Atari 2600, my baseball glove, my action figure collection, and I don't doubt she's enjoying their use. And in return, what do I get for entertainment? A goofy-looking bathing suit. I might as well make the most of it. Besides, August is almost over; if I don't do it today, well, I could wake up tomorrow in my own body and think, a few years down the road, that this was a missed opportunity of sorts.

I don't just walk out of the apartment in it, of course - I stick a halter top and some shorts with an elastic waistband over it, and put on some sandals and start walking toward Harvard Square. It's about a mile, but it's also got a nice long stretch by the Weeks footbridge where you can sit by the river and sun yourself, and the city of Cambridge actually closes off a section of Memorial Drive to give over to the bikers and rolelrbladers. Not that I've got either, but it's easier to just relax when there aren't cars zipping by. Besides, I wanted to hit the bookstore and get something to read. I wound up stopping in Pandemonium (a science fiction bookstore) and getting David Brin's latest (Kiln People) in paperback. Hey, it's about souls being downloaded into other bodies. I like Brin and feel like being irony personified.

I also grab some suntan lotion in CVS; I've got no idea how easily Michelle burns. And a towel. (This is how money gets spent - I saw people setting up with their towels on the way from her apartment, but didn't want to walk all the way there and back)

Then, it's back to the banks of the river Charles. I'm just spreading my towel, and who shows up but Maggie?

I suppose it's no big deal; we spent some time sitting by the river together Sunday afternoons, trying to see who could finish the Globe crossword first whenever there was a rare nice weekend in May and June. Right in the same area. Still, it was kind of hard to see her bringing another guy to sit there. To be honest, I didn't think of it as "our spot" until that very moment. Of course, bumping into me didn't mean anything to her - I was just that weird girl she met at the mall. We said hi, her boyfriend (David, I think his name is) said he's just finished my book, I mentioned that I liked some of the author's books but hadn't quite gotten up the nerve to start his big "Uplift" saga. He seemed like a nice enough guy, although he didn't say as much as Mags when I started talking about yesterday's game - just grinned and said he was glad Nomar had a girlfriend, or else he might lose Maggie. Not that he was always looking at her.

So, after the conversation between people who (supposedly) didn't really know each other came to an end and we gave each other a few feet of personal space, I made the smallest bit of a production of removing the top and arching my back before I bent over to pull my shorts down, making sure he got a real good look at Michelle's breasts (by the way, Michelle has excellent peripheral vision - I could totally tell he was looking). I also decided to start my sunbathing face-up rather than face-down, just to make sure those polka-dots continued to catch his eye.

Hey, if I'm going to be stuck with this body, might as well get some use out of it. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I could practically hear Maggie thinking "Martin wouldn't be looking at this bimbo while he was out with me". With any luck, maybe David (or whatever) will be gone and she'll remember what a good thing we had when I get my body back.

After an hour and a half or so, I turned over. Got to tan evenly, and, besides, it was tough to read holding the paperback at arm's length with Michelle's rack in the way. Just to be an extra special big tease, I untied the suit's top. Wasn't long after that that Maggie and her boyfriend left (and it certainly looked to be Maggie's idea).

It took me a while to get into the book, just marveling at the absurdity of what I was doing. Not just because I was doing it, but any woman doing it - I was basically lying around in the middle of a city (well, actually, on the Boston/Cambridge border, but close enough) in my underwear. The swimsuit wasn't close to a thong, but it still left Michelle's ass half exposed to the air. I was practically naked and it wasn't just me - I'd say one in every eight girls was similarly attired (sure, there were some guys going shirtless, but that doesn't exactly give you the same "in the middle of a major metropolis in my skivvies" feeling).

That was good for another hour or so, and then the breeze started. Michelle's skin had absorbed enough sunlight to not really get chilly, but I was getting kind of tired of just sitting there, and felt like walking around some more. Just one snag - although I've gotten fairly proficient at getting bras on and off this past month, I can't say I've had much practice tying a bikini up behind my back without flashing that nice family sitting in front of me. Sure, it's really Michelle's body and reputation (or so I tell myself), but the son who looked to be about twelve wanted it too much.

I was making a complete ass of myself when I noticed a shadow in front of me. I tilted my head up and saw a good-looking guy, asking if I needed some help. With an accent. Yeah, I guessed I did.

This, I guess, must be Michelle's type - tall, tanned, European. While I was idly noting that he was handsome, if you liked that sort of thing, there were involuntary shivers running up her spine whenever his fingers touched her back. I thanked him as I stood up and pulled on my shorts and top, though Karl said he might not have helped if he knew I was planning to get dressed. I made up some excuse about having to call my mother, what with it being Sunday afternoon, and headed for the subway station.

Of course, to travel the mile from Harvard Square to my Apartment in Allston takes forty-five minutes by two different subway lines, but I didn't tell him that. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Aquarium, actually, and walking around that area. It was good to just walk around, just as a reminder that being stuck in Michelle's body had one distinct advantage - I still got to live in this fantastic city. Day-to-day, when you're just going to and from work and collapsing, you can lose track of that.

Anyway, I'll be throwing the bikini in the wash before heading off to bed. August is almost over, so who knows when I'll have a chance to use it again? I don't plan on still being in this body next summer, so this might have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience (and not a bad one).

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at