My BFF and I headed to the indoor exercise pool at the gym. We had not committed to our regimen to the extent we wanted to subject ourselves to the horror of purchasing new suits. Trying on a suit that advertises industrial strength spandex is humiliating. My suit has “endurance” boldly emblazoned across the front right hip. It is not referring to my aquatic capabilities.
The suit had seen better days. It resembles a worn out slipcover for an overstuffed couch. The seat stressed to the extreme, is an awful shade of worn green/black. There appears to be a derriere inside even when none is present.
My friend assured me her suit was tacky too. She usually exaggerates but this time she had not. Her suit was a polka dot number that had done hard time. She covered the lower portion of the suit by donning a pair of exercise shorts. “Shabby chic” does not apply to swimsuits.
A session in the hot whirlpool had reduced our hair to limp strings. Without makeup, we looked like two crumpets prior to toasting. A quick trip to the pool with beach towels draped Burka style covered most of the damage.
We were forced to share the pool with three irritating males whose antics were reminiscence of high school boys except for the glaring man boobs. Suddenly there was a thrashing in the water likened to a feeding frenzy by sharks as the “boys” made their way to the entrance of the pool.
She must have watched the old movie “Picnic” too many times. In her best Kim Novak move, she descended the pool steps slowly. A vision in a pepto bismol fluorescent pink suit, she sported perfectly coiffed, newly tinted red hair. Her makeup was complete with eye shadow, mascara and lip-gloss. Gold hoop earrings completed her ensemble. As she held court at one end of the pool, the pubescent acting males abandoned their splashing and crowding.
The pool siren and her groupies have not been seen since.
There is something to be said for not being a part of the “popular” crowd and saggy spandex. My BFF and I enjoy the pool in our ratty suits in total isolation.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.