The fat man had a skin condition. The discoloration caused by the condition was made all the more apparent by his deep tan. I don’t know how you can tell a brown man from a very heavily tanned white man, but you can tell. He lay out by the pool on his belly with his speedo pulled down around his ankles so as to evenly expose his back side.

Our friend said: “This is very rude”

“We don’t mind”

“I will complain”

We went into the pool. In the middle of the enormous pool was an island, planted with palm trees. There from the slight shade of a palm tree we watched outward as the drama unfolded in panorama. Our friend walked the length of the pool from the man to the bar. The bartender walked over to the man. Then the man pulled up his speedo. Then the bartender walked back. Then the man walked to the bar. Then our friend talked to the man. They seemed to be getting along very well.

Our friend returned.

“He said in Russia he owns a hotel. And he has a skin disease and the sun is good for that. I asked him why does it matter about the hotel? And anyway this is not Sharm El Sheikh. There are girls. There are people. There are rules. Use Google, and find a better country to visit. Have some respect for our rules”.

We floated in the shade by the walls of the island and watched the lifeguards dive past the sign that said no diving.

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