Farewell to Mills?

PP’s just about had it with Mills. No, maybe this is not really goodbye, but hell, she just has one question? Don’t we lovely paying patrons get the very short time of 15 minutes to shower and change before being rushed outta the locker room? Isn’t that why the pool ‘closes’ at 4:45 instead of ‘5’? It’s a sneaky way of gyping us outta our swim actually. If the schedule said till 5 then….wait….PP is getting off the mad track here. Let’s start this again.

PP is goddamn sick and tired of being made to feel like a piece of guncky slimy hair on the shower floor if she takes one fuckin minute over the allotted 15 minutes to get dressed. PLEASE!!! What is the goddamn big deal here? Last Sunday, PP thought she’d try Mills at 4 after the sun’s zenith was gone. Consequently, when she swims her 45 minutes and then gets a paltry 5 minutes in the hot tub she understands that she’s gonna hafta shower and change more quickly. Yet…. But…… Suffice it to say that when she and another regular swimmer were rushing to get dressed at 4:48 with correct her if she’s wrong, 12 minutes to go, Miss Hard- Nose-I Have -A -Date -Can -You –Speed- It- Up-Any comes nosing in. “Are we almost done here ladies?”

Shit. No, are you my mother? I mean. PP is hurrying. J is hurrying. Lord knows we don’t want a naughty slow ladies scolding on a Sunday afternoon. Yet, it seems it can’t be avoided when this bitch is working. Oh, PP likes calling her a bitch. Hell, PP shoulda told her she’s had cancer and that’s why she can’t swim earlier cuz she hastsa stay outta the sun’s zenith. So fuck you bitch. You’re gonna be 3 minutes late for your ‘date.’ This is not the first time this has happened.

And on this Sunday, PP was well within the cut off range. “What time is it? She’d asked. Hurry Up Bitch glances at her fat wrist and makes a face. ‘ It’s about 4 minutes to 5. PP glares at her. ‘Okay then, I’ll be outta here in 4 minutes. “ HUB shakes her head in dismay, then clucks her fat tongue disapprovingly. “The sooner you can make it the better. I have a date.” PP wants to say, who the hell would date you? But holds her tongue. It takes more time to make snide comments and she needs that 4 minutes now. So stalking past her with her wet suit dripping dangerously close to HUB’s fat ankles, PP plops her unused hair dryer in her bag and glances over at J who’s even slower than PP and isn’t getting involved. PP thinks this is a bit cowardly on her part, but maybe she’s just trying to get the hell outta there too.

HUB slams outa the locker room, leaving PP and J alone for what’s left of the 4 minutes. “I hate it when they rush us out of here like that!” PP fumes. “Yeah.” J agrees. Isn’t she pissed off too? PP wonders. Damn. She needs a comrade in arms. Where’s the Lovely I or Gianna Panna when you need ‘em?

Tossing her wet stuff in her bag, then rummaging around for her keys, PP shakes her head. Is it really worth it? Isn’t swimming supposed to be a relaxing and restorative endeavor? Evidently not here at Mills where all they care about is their ‘dates’. Hell PP gets this. She’s worked enough retail. You’re tired. You’re hungry. You’re outa patience with the goddamn customers. But what can you do? You hafta wait for them to buy their books or put their 3 sugars, half a honey bear of sweetener & 6 tablespoons of half and half in their latte before you can go home. This is Extreme Customer Abuse. PP knows it well. But hell, she and J are within the 15 after swim time limit by 4 fuckin minutes!

Should she report HUB to the management? PP thinks not. She’ll just get her revenge on her blog. Thank god for writing! Its saves so much time, energy and confrontation.

Unless of course, by some happy miracle, HUB reads this.


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