While waiting for the girls to get their massages and facials at the 55+ Country Club, I sat poolside – reading a book, taking calls and, best of all, watching seniors do water aerobics.
As I watched approximately 20 seniors doing crosscuts and other activities, I noticed a woman on the other side of the blue pool dividers. She was trying to act nonchalant and, to her credit, was pretty smooth, but this Golden Girl was guilty of theft of services. While the other seniors paid $1-4 for the class, this lady paid nothing, all the while doing the exercises under the water, trying to act like she was just walking the pool. “Clever. This woman could have been my great grandmother,” I thought to myself.
After we were rubbed and scrubbed, we headed to the condo to do more poolside sitting – sans seniors doing water fitness – and wait for Sleepless to arrive. Once we received the text that she had entered the complex, we all went to the drive to meet her. As the blue shuttle pulled up, her four friends – all in varying swim covers – waved her in. I decided to go Snooki style with an ‘I heart NY’ t-shirt that I had turned into a muscle-tee mid-riff. Knowing what she likes (in addition to Snooki look-alikes), Oreggano and had her Sutter Home White Zinfandel chilled and ready. This was something we had to sneak – MyFace and Q aren’t fans of the zin. When they found out what we had done, Q laid down some ground rules. “You can’t drink that stuff in the house,” Q advised her, “Only outside.”
After a few more hours poolside (lucky for Sleepless this meant she could have lots of Zin), we got dolled up for a night in the big city of Scottsdale. Luckily, our restaurant was in walking distance of the adult ice cream store. ‘Adult’ doesn’t imply it was like the ice cream parlour in the infamous porn Wendy and the Waffle Cones, rather, it implies the ice cream is liqueur-laced; liqueur-laced and delicious. After one scoop, we walked back to the car. Walking off the ice cream was a good idea – we wouldn’t want MyFace to end up with a DUIc – Driving Under Ice cream.
The ride home was like many rides home – seems to take much longer than the way there – wherever there may be. “I can’t believe the speed limit is only 55,” said MyFace. “Everything here is 55,” quipped Oreggano, ‘The speed limit, the people.” “Lots of 50s here. Isn’t Area 51 here?” I queried. “Yes, in Prescott,” said Sleepless. “I slept with a guy from Prescott once,” said Oreggano. “Was he 55?” I asked. He wasn’t, but it was about 10:55 when we got home. While the seniors in the community were either in bed, getting ready for bed or rummaging through their refrigerator (I could only see so much with the binoculars), we grabbed our cocktails and sat poolside again – the juvenile party crashers of Surprise. Better yet, the Surprise Party Splashers.