When I was sixteen, my family visited Hawaii, and I had a cute new swimsuit. I was a pretty busty teen, with the vocabulary of an AP English student, and while I was out swimming, a couple of college guys started flirting with me. Nothing gross, just pleasantly casual hey-you-look-great-how-are-you-enjoying-the-beach stuff.
After a minute or two of this, one of them asked if I was there with friends, and I said no, I was with my family. “Wow, you still travel with your family?” one exclaimed. “That’s cool…”
“Well, I am sixteen,” sez me.
Reader, they blanched. They flustered, they apologized, they assured me that they’d thought I was also in college, they wished me a good vacation and they bounced. All within about a minute of realizing they’d been chatting up a minor.
I was mildly mortified at the time, but now? I look back and think, Ah, what good men. What good young men.