“Oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear! Where did I put my pants?”
I glance over at Linda, one of the regulars
of the Old Lady’s Club, dripping from the shower, rummaging through her swim bag.
“They must be here! Oh!!!!”
“Did you wear them to the pool?”
Alice, the president of the Old Lady’s Club asks.
“No, no….I had my swim pants on….oh
dear. Where could they be? I wonder if I left them in the car?”
Chuckling a bit too diabolically,
Alice sings out: “My mantra? Better you than me!” Her loud cackle rings through
the cold locker room.
I think how this isn’t a very nice
thing to say to someone who is supposed to be your friend, but then, maybe
these two women have this sort of relationship. Or, more likely, Linda is so distraught
over her missing pants that she didn’t even hear.
“I wonder
if I left them on the pool deck?” she muses out loud. “Oh, dear! Maybe they
fell out of my bag? I’m NOT putting on my wet swim pants! I refuse to do that!”
“Why don’t
you ask one of the lifeguards to look on the deck for them?” Alice suggests.
“That’s a
good idea,” she says, and then yells: “HELLOOOO! YOOHOOO! LIFEGUARD! CAN YOU
CHECK ON THE DECK TO SEE IF I LEFT MY PANTS OUT THERE?”
Alice plops
down on the bench and wrings out her hair. “Do you think they heard you?”
“I don’t
know. Oh, I hope so! I just don’t know where they could be.”
I stuff the rest of my junk into my swim bag thinking how it would be a dilemma to be pantless after the pool. Though, during the pandemic when there was no locker room, I simply took off my suit from under my big stadium jacket and drove home naked underneath it like a vixen in a Noir film showing up at the door in a trench coat.
“HELLO??? BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAH!” Someone
yells from outside the locker room.
“OH! I wonder if that is one of the
lifeguards? Maybe they found my pants. Could you hear what they said, Alice?”
Alice
shrugs, “No.”
“I’ll go
take a look,” I offer, slinging my heavy bag over my shoulder.
“Oh, thank you
thank you!” Linda gushes.
I walk out
of the locker room, across the cement hallway to the noncashier cashier window
with a ledge. On the ledge sits a neatly folded pair of brightly colored
stretch pants. Grabbing them, I holler into the room where all the lifeguards
are sitting around, busy on their phones. “Thank you!”
One of them nods at me before going back to his phone.
I head back
into the locker room, pants in hand, and give them to Linda.
“They found
them,” I grin behind my mask.
“OHHHH!
Thank you thank you thank you! Thank them! Ohhhh!” She is almost near tears. “I’ve
had such a day. It’s just been one of those days. I got here late and only had
time to swim for 20 minutes, but something is better than nothing, and then this
is yesterday, but I missed an appointment, I just totally forgot about it, and
oh! I am just so grateful that they found my pants!”
“Yes, me
too,” I nod, turning to head out again.
*****
Five
minutes later, I’m outside sitting with my back to the sun at one of the blue
circle tables, chewing tiredly on a granola bar. Alice and Linda finally emerge
from the Kennedy High Swim Center building, waddling toward their cars, talking
talking talking.
Alice waves
goodbye before heading to her vintage-era Nissan black sports car. Linda’s beige Jeep
is parked right in front of me. She glances over at me, her tiny pale eyes
watering in the bright sunshine. “Oh, it’s been a day!” she exclaims.
“Well, I’m
sure the hard part is over,” I offer.
“Let’s hope so!” she sighs, before opening the car door. A crow caws above us and she pauses, looking up.
“Caw caw
caw!” she answers, face up to the sky. Not waiting for an answer, she tosses her
swim bag on the front seat, then slowly turns and heaves herself into the jeep,
slamming the door behind her.
