Mrs. Weinstein was 64, retired and needed a healthy dose of suntan lotion. I agreed to oil her down, but it wasn’t pretty.
Wearing skimpy shorts, oiling down rich old women and feigning excitement at how well 6-year-old Rebecca can dig holes in the sand are just part of the job if you want to be a highly sought-after cabana boy.
The first thing any prospective cabana boy must know is that at a beach club there are more politics and dirty underhanded activity than on Capitol Hill. Members constantly gossip behind each others’ backs, mess around with other member’s spouses and entice young, unsuspecting cabana boys into their cabanas to smoke weed.
One woman stole lounge chairs from, and I quote, “the bitch in B15 who copied my decorations last summer.” I wasn’t on that row last year but told the woman I agreed with her; B15 was a bitch.
Working at the club for sometimes 12 hours a day, six days a week can take its toll. And the prospect of having to flirt with old women doesn’t necessarily make you giddy to go either. But for all those who snicker and laugh when I tell them what I do over the summer, I say this: I’ll be saving about 10 grand this summer. That amount of money can make any of those painful memories with Mrs. Weinstein fade quickly.