Oh God. I Showed Up to the BU Beach in a Microkini.

By Anonymous | Photo by Tejas Rama

My peers gawked. Traffic on Storrow drive halted. Lust-filled frat boys yelled obscene phrases. At first I figured, “Oh well. This is probably just because I’m really hot.” 

I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 

It was the end of August, a week before classes began. I had heard that the BU beach was right next to the highway. And there’s no sand. Bizarre, but what is Boston if not a little quirky, right? 

So I shaved myself bare, donned my sequined, hot pink, triangle-thong-combo microkini, and headed north. I was hanging out with my friends, who I had just met the day before. Why were they all in t-shirts? Why did they all seem disgusted, each one gradually inching away from me as I methodically rubbed tanning oil on myself while eyeing the cute guy sitting on one of those beach chairs? Why was he not totally digging it? After all, I’m hot as fuck!

I decided to ramp it up a little. I stretched, showing a tasteful amount of sideboob. I sighed seductively. I pulled out a popsicle and started going ham. Nothing except for disgust. 

“Dude, cool off,” my boring friend said, “you’re like, being inappropriate.”

“Yeah,” my other lame friend added, “you’re gonna get charged with harassment.”

I felt the sharp sting of defeat, “But it’s the beach! I want to go swimming!”

It was all a blur from there. All I remember is that I didn’t go down without a fight as they grabbed me, with a one-to-one friend-to-limb ratio, and swung me into the Charles. I think I have brain damage now. But I’m not giving up. I’ll come back next year.