That awkward moment

when your boss suddenly appears, as you catch the last few rays of the Great Summer of 2013 during your lunch break...
Not as embarrassing as bumping into the principal of your kids' school, topless on the beach in Barcelona. But almost.

It was a wise move for this sun worshiper to indulge in a last spot of binge-tanning (the sun exposure equivalent of gulping 9 pints of cider outside the Barge Pub between 8 pm and midnight) because the summer of 2013 is now defunct.
I hope that he remembers to apply generous lashings of after-sun cream (the sun exposure equivalent of a visit to Abrakebabra after the 9 pints in the barge) or he could feel each grain of sand on his bed sheet tonight, burn through his tender irradiated skin like dozens of vengeful little laser rays (the sun exposure equivalent of a raging hangover after the 9 pints in the Barge and the cold half-eaten kebab found in the side pocket of his Bermuda shorts in the morning)