older women with perpetual tans on large , freckled chests sat by the pool , their hair shellacked into place by fake french hairdressers to the point where the strands resembled frozen fiber optics , never allowing it , god forbid , to touch the water , sleeping , he imagined , without putting their heads down lest they shatter the dos like so much venetian glass ; there were nose jobs and liposuction and face-lifts so extreme that the ears almost touched in the back , the overall effect bizarrely sexy in the same way you might find yvonne de carlo on the munsters sexy ; women fighting off old age and on the surface winning , but myron wondered if they doth protest too much , their fear just a little too bare in the scar-revealing , harsh overhead lights of the dining room .