Mermaids, Elders and Glue

 

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a couple of mermaids here.” A middle-aged white man interrupts Alice and me chatting outside in front of Kennedy pool after our swim. The thin sun warms my back as Alice and I chat avocados. I’d trimmed my tree last week and the bounty! So many avocados that I gave away dozens to fellow swimmers.

The man, wire rimmed glasses, stocky build, short brown hair, plaid shirt and blue jeans has a kid in tow, presumably his son. He makes his mermaid pronouncement, which granted, was a little strange, but seemingly benign and actually not untrue. At least in my case. I’ve been called a mermaid many times over the years. But this man seems a bit off. His energy is invasive, not just because he interrupted two women having a conversation, but also because his manner is one of ‘Hey, Ladies, look at me. I’m funny. I’m smart. I like myself.'

Alice laughs, big and boisterous, encouraging. But that’s just her. She’ll talk to anyone. Me not so much. Especially weird men. But this guy has a kid so maybe he’s a little less threatening than he’d be if he were by himself. Though afterwards I think that having the kid emboldened him. He could be an ass and we wouldn’t tell him to fuck off in front of the kid.

Though don’t be too sure.

“How’s the water?” Ego man asks.

“Oh, it’s great. You’re gonna love it,” Alice chuckles.

“Water is glue,” the kid says.

I stare at him for a moment. He’s maybe 7 or 8 years old, a smaller version of the man, with messy brown hair, squinty brown eyes, swim trunks with dolphins on them, a tote bag hanging at his side.

“Water is glue?” I ask, perplexed. I wasn’t going to engage, but this is just too weird of a comment. I mean, I guess water could be glue. When you get out of the pool, the water sticks to you, dripping off your suit and skin, slow trickles soaking your body till you towel it off. And I suppose, if you stuck a piece of paper on your wet skin, the paper would cling to you, like it’d been glued there. Though, obviously, only temporarily until you dried.

“No, he said water is fluid,” the man clarified, grinning at me in patronizing splendor.

“That’s right,” Alice nods. “Water is fluid. And that’s not all. Look up at the clouds…” She waves at the sky expansively. “They might look like there just floating up there, but really, they’re a form of water that is actually fluid too. Just like the pool.”

The kid looks at her dubiously. Dad pipes up. “We’re so lucky to have a couple of Elders here at our disposal.”

Alice cackles. “Hah! Elders! We are great role models. Now we just have to make sure that the ones we’re role models for are malleable.”

Ego man stares at here, grinning and smiling. He doesn’t have a clue about what she’s talking about. Frankly, neither do I. And, I don’t like being called an elder. Where the hell did that come from? This man is maybe in his 50’s. I’m in my 60s. Am I really his elder? I resent the implication here that I’m old. But then when I think about it, I am sure I could offer him some wisdom about how you should leave women alone who are in the middle of a conversation, not impose your own inane agenda on them. We don’t need it!

“We’re here for a birthday party,” the man continues, not wanting the conversation to end? Or just trying to kill time before the pool opens again? Or torturing us with his banal attempts to engage?

“That sounds fun,” Alice encourages. “You’ll have a blast!”

The kid hangs behind dad. I think about how his father is setting a great example for his son of how to treat women: interrupt them, make fun of them, and then walk away.

I’ve had enough. Rise from my seat, thinking how sure, initially, the mermaid comment might have just been a fun icebreaker, but did we ask for it? Why must men assume that women want to talk to them, laugh at their jokes, put up with their imposing personalities.

I don’t. Maybe Alice does. Or she just doesn’t care. Every interaction is a fun adventure. And I get this. I do encourage weird conversations often, for the story.

But this man is creepy. His vibe is arrogant and patronizing.

A mermaid would just swim away from him. And even though I’m on land, that’s exactly what I’m going to do!