“I really like your fins.” Square Woman with Yellow Zoomers has gotten into my lane. I don’t mind swimming with her, but she requires a wide berth. And, today, I discovered, she also needs to know when to stop talking!
I know I can’t
be the only one who doesn’t want to ‘chat’ in the middle of my workout. I mean,
there is only so much time! And, I cut it close. I want to get in my 2500 yards,
and I can do this in 53 minutes, but I often only give myself 55. So, it’s a race
against the clock before they kick me out of the pool.
Now, I have
to contend with a Chat Lady? Ugh!
“I had fins
like that,” she continues, completely oblivious to my hostile don’t talk to me
vibe, “but when I went to Strawberry, I had them on the side of the pool and if
things aren’t nailed down, someone steals them. I turned around after putting
them on the deck and before I knew it, Poof! they were gone. Now I have these fins….”
she holds up her foot with the bright yellow Zoomer attached, “and they are too
stiff. What size foot do you have?”
“6 ½”
“That’s
small, isn’t it. I’d probably take a large.”
Why are we
talking about foot size between my intervals? I have to cut her off, but how?
She’s just getting started, I can tell. I could just take off, push off the
wall, during her mid-sentence, but that is so rude. Or is it? I mean, isn’t she
the rude one keeping me from my workout?
“I got
these at Transporters cuz they’re the only ones they have. What are those
called?”
She peers at my fins, now sitting on the deck. “Umm….they’re called Finis.”
“Where did
you get them?”
“I think I
just got them at Amazon.” Doesn’t the whole world know that you get EVERYTHING
at Amazon?
She takes a
breath, and I take off, hoping that this is the end of her talking, but no….
when I return to where she’s still standing, I take a short pause between my
intervals to grab my kickboard, and she starts in again: “I used to swim at the
Berkeley Y. I really love the sauna.”
“Oh, yes,
me too!” Cj what are you doing? This is encouragement!
“I haven’t
been there in 5 or 6 years, and I got a senior low-income rate of $40 a month
and most people complain about the parking, but since I’m a handicapped senior,
I got a placard so I could park in front, but you know often even those spots
are taken and I have to drive around and around and with my injured shoulder
this causes me pain and…”
I just take
off. I can’t listen to her anymore. What am I doing talking to a crazy lady
about parking at the Berkely Y in the middle of my workout? She’s sucking away
valuable time!
As I turn at the wall opposite, she’s floating on her back toward me in a crooked lane takeover way. Then she starts coughing spastically. Damn. Is she okay? Do I ask her if she’s okay?
I glance
over at the lifeguard who is frowning. Who can blame her? It’s a busy morning
at the pool and I noticed earlier how Chat Woman caused an issue by asking the lifeguard
to fetch her a kickboard and pull buoy. “I’m not supposed to get equipment for
people,” the lifeguard had explained. “You can pick it up before you get in the
water.”
I couldn't
hear what Chat Woman had said. Probably something like “I’m already in the water. I
didn’t see where they are! Can’t you just get them for me this one time? I’m a
senior with a disability and it’s a challenge for me to get in and out of the
water and….”
Now, as I
pass Chat Woman, still coughing, I think, No way am I going to ask her if she’s
okay. Frankly, at this point she can drown.
Afterwards,
hanging out with the cool swimmers in front of the building, B says that he might
do the lifeguard training again. We all say we should, and when D comes out, one
of the lifeguards, hearing our conversation, tells me that, yes, I could be a lifeguard.
“But I’m so
old and I’m not very strong.”
“You could
do it. You can swim. You’d never be alone! Others would help!”
“You’d
never be alone!” LS calls out, grinning. I know what she’s thinking. We
like being alone!
But now, I don’t tell them all how I wished Chat Woman had drowned. If I am going to be a lifeguard, it might not be a good idea to divulge such wicked thoughts. Besides, if I never were alone, someone else would save the drowning person. They’d never know what I was thinking: “Drown, Chat Woman, drown drown drown!”
Not that I
would really let anyone drown.
Or would I?
No, of course not. I can't even let a fly drown in the cat bowl water, always scooping it up and tossing it out the window.
Admittedly, scooping Chat Woman out of the pool would be more of a challenge. But remember, I'd never be alone! And in this instance, that would be a very good thing!
