Beach people go whoa

The Evil Genie grants three wishes a week. Leave a wish in the comments!

S! wishes: I want to look rockin in a bathing suit this summer!

The Evil Genie replies: When you get to the beach club, EVERYONE stares. As you walk down the sand, heads turn. Men, women, children: no one can look away from your body. You move slowly, deliberately, letting the sun shine on your frame, letting the beachcombers drink you in. Mouths are agog, gasps are audible, eyes are protruding dangerously from skulls. Little boys stare at your chest and ask their mothers what “those” are. You find your perfect spot to settle in, and a handsome lifeguard rushes over to you.

“Ma’am,” he says in southern, gentlemanly way, “Do you need any assistance? Shade? Sunblock? A cover-up? The winds down by the water can get pretty strong, and sometimes at high tide the waves can make their way up this far and I would hate to see you endangered in any way.”

“Oh, you,” you giggle girlishly, and then cough hackingly. The lifeguard looks concerned.

“Seriously, ma’am,” he says, “We take the safety of our older members very seriously.”

You’re confused. You’ve never been thinner… or more brittle. Your breasts have never been larger or… longer? Looking down at your reclining shape, you realize that you have the withered, wrinkled physique of a very old woman. You know, the kind that sits in rocking chairs? GET IT? You get it! Also, you’re sort of grayish, like a rock. And your general constitution is consistent with someone born in the stone age. You’re a fossil! That’s what you meant, right? Enjoy the attention, don’t tramp it up too much!

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