I step out onto the deck, amazed. Make a sweeping arm gesture at the empty pool. Handsome Walking Man chuckles, hollers out to me: “It’s all just for you!”
And it is. I dive in. The water’s warmth is perfect. I glide through my tiredness. It is euphoric. And then I think, no, it’s Poolphoric!
As I kick my last lap, I call up the lifeguard, “Not that I’m complaining, but I wonder where everyone is.”
He nods, “Yeah, I wondered that too. There were only 2 of you. I thought there might be 6.”
Why 6? I wonder, but don’t ask. Are there 6 lanes? Maybe. I’ve never bothered to count. Maybe he thought there would be one person in each lane. Instead there’s just ME by the time 9:30 rolls around and it’s time to get out.
As I pop my cap off, and shake out my wet hair, I tell him my new word. “You know the word ‘euphoria’?” I ask.
He shakes his head, “No….” He hasn’t heard of euphoria? Well, maybe there isn’t a lot of euphoria working at Target during the Christmas rush or life guarding at the Oakland Y. Though he has a euphoric spirit about him with his dazzling smile.
“Well,” I explain, “it’s the feeling of heaven. Of joy. Of everything being just so perfect. Like my swim tonight. I couldn’t believe that no one showed up! So…..Poolphoria is the euphoria in the pool that I experienced tonight.”
He grins, “Okay….” He laughs, radiant in his bemusement around word creation.
“I made up a new word!” I joke.
He grins, “Are these your personal paddles?” He is scooping up my equipment to put away for me instead of making me take it back myself. Such a gentleman!
“Oh, great, thanks!” he says. He is so darn cute. Like he’s appreciative that I don’t lie and say they’re mine and steal them?
“You have a nice rest of the night. See you next time,” he waves goodbye.
I head into the locker room to tell DL about Poolphoria. She’ll definitely know what it means. Even if she isn’t a swimmer. Poets make up words all the time. And tonight, I am the Poetess of the Pool!