Finally! Capt. G was coming to the Y as PP’s guest for a much needed indoor swim—what with the cold windy grayness of December, an indoor swim seemed purrfect.
Oh dear. PP is just too wretchedly sick to write this story. Damn! And it’s so funny! Maybe she can write it in summary form? Or a delirious fevered rendition might just work for the story to unfold in all it’s devious glory? Yes; this will work. Or if not, who cares? Not PP, whose fever-induced boredom has made her turn to the only other passion she has when she can't swim: Writing!
Waiting for Capt. G to arrive, PP had picked up a copy of Rita Mae Brown’s Sneaky Pie series. Again, since she’s so sick today, can’t remember the title, but yet, she’s always loved the idea of the cat and corgi detective helpers. Plus, she’s been intrigued by the YMCA’s book shelf here in the lobby for months, but has never had the time to peruse its contents. Mostly the usual suspects. Mysteries. Romances. A couple New-agey titles about finding your inner guru shit.
Opening the Rita Mae Brown one, PP starts in on the first page, but the cat and corgi don’t even make an appearance before Capt G rushes in for the appointed meeting time, 4 pm, after droppin off her teenage daughter and friends for some youth code conduct meeting……those youth. PP thinks no meeting is gonna code them into good conduct and that’s exactly what? Well, obviously, PP knows nothing about any Code of Conduct as the following narrative will illustrate!
“Sorry I’m late,” Capt. G gushes, brushing a stray blonde strand out of her eyes.
“No, you’re fine. It’s only 5 after 4. You just need to sign in at that notebook (PP points to a binder lying open on the front counter) and give him a picture ID, right?” PP grins at the bored, but friendly young man behind the counter.
“That’s right,” he agrees as he gets back to the phone or the computer or folding towels or some such task, not really paying attention to them.
Capt. G’s eyes widen in surprise and shock as she mouths silently across the counter at PP, “I DON'T.....HAVE...A...a Picture ID!!!!”
Damn! PP’s been trying to get Capt G to the Y for almost a year and now the lack of picture ID is gonna stop them?
NO way! Luckily, PP watches plenty of soap operas so deviousness has become second nature to her. Pulling out her own wallet, she grabs her FFU picture ID and slips it sneakily over to Capt. G. Rita Mae Brown woulda been proud! “Here….he’ll never know the difference,” she whispers. And really Capt. G and PP do look similar. Both blonde, blue eyed, fair skinned. The eth-mix youth won’t know the difference. Or so PP hopes. Not missing a beat, Capt G takes the ID and hands it sweetly over to him, who true to PP’s suspicion, doesn’t even glance at it.
Whew! They’re in, as they both grab towels and run giggling down the stairs. It was like they were in 7th grade and getting away with smoking in the bathroom. Not that PP ever smoked in bathrooms; honest, she didn’t. Had never developed a taste for that particular vice, but she was pretty sure Capt G had. Well, maybe not, but CG sure went along with the passed off ID scam.
Delighted, they catch their breaths, and then eyeing each other across the lockers, bust up laughing.
“I can’t believe I did that!” PP exclaims, proud of her devious ingenuity.
“Me neither,” CG agrees.
“We’re not embracing those YMCA values of Honesty and Responsibility are we?”
”Hell, I do stuff like that all the time and then my kids look at me like, “MOM? What the Hell….and I just tell ‘em to shut up and I’ll explain later.”
Cracking up again, they head out to the pool. “Hurry, before he sends someone after us,” PP jokes as they grab the towels and head out to the deck, two blondes on the lam. Anything for a swim!
In the pool, they split a lane initially, PP pleasantly surprised that this is possible on a Sunday afternoon. But their idyllic rhythm is short lived as swimmers pile in, eager to get in a workout before closing time at 6. Capt G is a pro at not making eye contact with the prospective lane sharers, and hence circle swim hell. PP is amazed that they get in a half an hour before a sweet, unassuming Asian guy gets in with his Hawaii print navy trunks and begins his out of the water breast stroke right in front of Capt. G.
Not a swimmer.
After only half a lap, Capt G inadvertently mows him over with her backstroke on the way back down the lane. PP notes that they both stop, exchange a laugh and then Capt. G continues on her way.
Asian Non Swimmer climbs out of the pool after only 2 laps. “Did we scare you away?” PP jokes, resting at the wall.
He shakes his head, pleasant, smiles big. “No no, it’s ok. You are Professional Swimmers!”
Cracking up PP wants to say, no, we’re not Professional Swimmers, we're just lying devious bitches who break into the YMCA without the proper authority and then take over the lane, completely breaking the YMCA’s contract of sharing, responsibility, caring and honesty. Hey, but, they painted over those values at the pool. Maybe they don’t apply anymore?
PP grins as ANS climbs into the lane next to hers, joining 4 Asian guys who don’t swim. Perfect, now they can have their own non-swimming lane without interfering with the Professional Swimmers! PP watches as they giggle and bob about. One demonstrating a spastic free-style out of the water as the rest nod and flounder, tyring to mimic his serious stroke.
After their swim, Capt G sighs happily, exclaiming once again how great swimming makes her feel. PP has to agree, of course, but this day there was the added excitement of breaking the rules. Swimming on the lam. Every swimmer should try it. Whether it’s breaking into the Y with a fake ID, or climbing the fence at midnight at the local high school, or skinny dipping in your parents’ suburban kidney shaped pool. Forbidden Swimming. Who ever knew?
It makes the watery experience so much more exhilarating!
Unless, of course, you’re the poor Asian Guy who mistakenly believes that the Lying Bitches are Professional Swimmers!
But no way in Hell was PP gonna tell him or the tired YMCA attendant otherwise as she gets Capt. G to pick up ‘her’ ID as they wait in the lobby for the teenage girls to appear.
Wonder what they'd say if they knew about their mother's duplicitous tactics to gain a swim?
Who knows?
PP certainly wasn't gonna ask as she follows Capt. G's group of teenagers out the front door and back into the cold dark reality of Blondes not on the lam!
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