When wild things happen in Las Vegas, just enjoy them

It’s summertime and many of you are spending time in pools, so perhaps you can help me figure out this pool etiquette question.

What would you do upon entering a communal pool area and seeing a woman, her head resting on the side of the pool in the shallow end, her legs atop a man’s shoulders? He’s kneeling in front of her in the water, essentially with his face in her crotch. Quite possibly he’s actually looking at her face. Or not.

She’s wearing a bikini and has a gorgeous figure. He looks like a hound dog in doggie heaven. Except a dog’s tongue would actually have been hanging out of its mouth.

That was the image my cousin from Virginia and I were welcomed with Monday when I took a day off to be with her. Welcome to Vegas, baby!

Now, when the couple had the pool to themselves, I didn’t care what they did. But once you have two middle-aged women as an audience, isn’t it good manners to abandon the crotch-salivating pose?

They, of course, did not.

We all said polite hellos but refrained from introductions. My cousin and I went to the other end of the pool to drop our things and began swimming a few laps, politely trying to avoid splashing the couple.

Even when the woman left the pool to get a cigarette, she returned to plop her legs over his shoulders, positioning her crotch two inches from his face.

Actually, it was pretty funny. The middle-aged overweight man (who certainly wasn’t the only middle-aged overweight person in the pool) was having a good time. Actually, it appeared his ridiculous pose was serving a valuable purpose by helping his girlfriend tan her legs.

The woman was queenly. She didn’t have a tiara, but instead had sparkly thingys pierced around her belly button. It was pretty obvious who the dominant person was in this relationship.

I might have changed my position to something less overtly suggestive, but that’s just me.

And this is Las Vegas, where anything goes and where what happens here, stays here, or so I’ve been told millions of times.

Unfortunately, memories don’t evaporate. So the next time I see this neighbor (and hopefully it will be a long time), my laughter may be hard to suppress.

Maybe he’s not a puppy dog in that relationship. But he’s clearly lapping up the joy of being with a younger, beautiful and sexually relaxed woman. The smile on his face as he greeted us was a big one.

Quite possibly, having an audience of two middle-aged women, one the mother of three grown children, made their pool-time frolic even more enjoyable. If so, I’m glad to be of service. But instead of shocking us, they made us laugh.

Basically, everybody was having a good time. And my cousin returned to Richmond, Va., with a funny story to share with her husband about those wild and crazy folks in Las Vegas. No harm, no foul.

And really, when friends and family come to visit me in Las Vegas, that sort of silliness is what they expect and enjoy. They go home with stories about behavior they wouldn’t see in their hometowns and perpetuate the myth that normal people don’t live here.

Somehow, I suspect in Richmond, a couple frolicking like this would stop, swim a few laps and assume a less obvious “LOOK AT ME, PLEASE, LOOK AT ME” position.

But here, if you got it (and this gal had it all), then flaunt it.

I love this town, just for the amusement factor. And it’s the greatest people-watching town there is.

I always say if I ever decide to write a murder mystery and need to come up with physical descriptions of characters, all I need to do is go to McCarran International Airport and watch the folks coming and going, especially on a Friday night when women arrive ready to flaunt their sexuality.

I’d like to think if children were present, the amusing couple might have been more discreet, but they weren’t hurting us and we weren’t hurting them.

If I asked etiquette expert Miss Manners, she might advise us to enjoy the absurdity of the situation.

And that’s exactly what we did.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0275.