I've just spent two lovely days doing nothing much, and yet, since I wasn't at work, I got a lot done!
Yesterday was going to write a post about how a very fit 20 something tried to flirt with me at the pool at Gold's. The tentative title was going to be "Wow, my new swimsuit is MAGICAL."
However, since procrastination is the sign of a good two day vacation, I waited until today to write it, and now the post has a lovely chocolaty ending!
So yesterday I was at Gold's pool with Peaches. She's off of school, because it's state Teacher's-Get-Away-From-These-Children-for-two-days-and-call-it-conference. She decided not to join me in the pool, mostly because the last time she did a water Zumba class broke out and she has yet to shut out the images of a dozen elderly fluffy women shaking their maracas in the water. She opted for the bikes and weights.
So I swam laps...but not alone. The one other person in the pool was a younger gent, very fit, and very tan, and very, very into doing his laps. I figured we'd swim side by side, (well, I was in one lane and he was in another one and there was a lane between us and he was swimming roughly three laps to my one, but still there were moments when we were sort of side by side, so it counts) and not speak to each other. This has been my experience the other times I've gone swimming at Gold's.
I was also sort of breaking in my new fabulous swim suit. I can't stress enough how comfortable I feel in it and how much coverage it gives me. I'm not self conscious at all about fat or...ahem...unshaven areas (Hey, it's practically winter...you think I'm shaving my legs when I'm wearing pants 23.5 hours a day? Think again!) because this suit is so great.
What I didn't realize was just how great the suit was! After several laps (his, not mine.) Fit Boy started a conversation with me. I assume he was talking to me, there was no one else in the room.
Fit Boy: "You like the salt water in this pool?"
ME: I didn't realize it was salt water.
FB: Oh yeah.
ME: Well, that would explain my dry skin when I get out of the pool. (I haven't flirted in eons, apparently.)
FB: Yeah, I like swimming in the ocean better.
ME: Well, they have pictures of beaches on the wall, so you can pretend.
FB: Yeah, it's not real though.
After this sexually charged conversation, we resumed swimming. About ten minutes later, he started in again.
FB: Do you like swimming laps?
ME: Sure.
FB: Yeah, I like swimming laps. It's good.
ME: (Getting a little creeped out.) Sure.
We again resume swimming. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife...
About ten minutes later, (can you believe I was actually swimming laps for ten solid minutes? I was quite impressed!) Fit Boy stopped swimming and started just staring at the water. Just staring at it....
Just staring....
About the time I felt I should start looking for sharks, since we were, after all, swimming in salt water (I have my doubts on that.) FB started talking again. This time, however, we were on opposite corners of the pool so the joke was on him. I didn't have my glasses on an therefore could not hear him. All I made out was, "Underwater...."
I paddled a bit closer and realized he was talking about swimming underwater. And I also realized he was looking right at me. (Not, I don't know what his face looked like...no glasses. I know he was fit and he was tan, and he wasn't all that tall.) so I thought, to be polite, I should respond.
ME: You want me to swim underwater?
FB: No, I'm going to swim underwater.
ME: Oh. Okay.
FB: It's not dangerous. I've done it before.
ME: (Wondering why he's sharing this bit of information with me.) Okay.
FB: But if I don't surface for a while...
ME: (surface? We're in 36 inches of water.) Oh, if you don't come up for air in like five minutes I should call someone?
FB: (Obviously hoping I would suggest mouth to mouth) um...yeah.
ME: Okay.
So Fit Boy takes several deep breathes and then plunges...into 36 inches of water. I paddle back and forth, and he swims under water for a very impressive....half a length.
Call the paramedics! He was under water for twelves seconds!
He tried a few more times to extend his distance underwater, and he was getting better. Then a couple of folks showed up to soak themselves in the hot tub, so our private time was over. That didn't deter this soggy Romeo from wooing his modestly suited Juliet!
FB: Okay, do you think I can go out and back underwater?
ME: (you do realize, we've known each other about 30 minutes, I have no idea what your face looks like and honestly, in the entire time we've know each other you haven't swum more than half a length underwater.) Sure...go for it!
FB: Okay, I will!
He took several deep, and very dramatic breaths, and then dove down deep...probably 34 inches at least. I continued paddling back and forth, keeping a motherly eye out for him.
He made it a length and one body length. I cheered for him when he surfaced. Hey, you have to encourage the youngsters!
He got out of the pool shortly thereafter, but not before he spoke one last time to me.
FB: I'm giving it up today.
ME: You'll do it next time!
FB: You think?
ME: Sure, why not?
He then popped out of the pool...had I known I was speaking to someone in a SPEEDO I probably would have kept quiet....and then he left. And my world was dark. Mostly because I decided to swim underwater for a bit. I made it half a length. Of course, I didn't take the big dramatic breaths....
But that's not where this story ends. It was where I was going to end it, but then I went cheese and bread shopping with Hubby to Brennan's. For those of you familiar with Brennan's, you know it's impossible to get out of there for under $50. I generally have lunch there with all the samples and then even the score by buying tons of fruit and cheese. So we were getting bread and cheese when I texted Skippy about something. An older gent saw me texting and said, "If you're texting my wife, tell her I'm not here."
We all shared a good laugh.
Later, while I was shopping for cheese, Hubby joined a group of men loitering between the beer case and the butcher's counter. Because that's where men are men. I heard them discussing Hubby's sister's bar in Lake City, CO. (The Packer Bar, if you're that way. Tell Lynn and Gavin I sent ya!) I picked my cheese and ambled over to them.
The older guy asked me what I got and I showed him. Then he said, "Do you like chocolate?"
ME: Yes.
OG: Just a minute.
ME: Okay.
OG: Here ya go.
OG: You gonna eat that or watch it?
ME: Well, I'm sort of messy, if I eat it, I'll get frosting all over my face.
OG: Well, this is the place for that kind of thing!
ME: Okay.
So I stuck my finger the in frosting and then licked my finger...much to his delight.
OG: I told you it was yummy!
See, my friends, THAT is how you flirt with a fluffy girl! Maybe it's because he gave me chocolate. Maybe it's because he wasn't wearing a speedo and trying to impress me with his lack of swimming prowess. Or maybe it's because I was wearing my glasses...but I'll never forget that older man. He was a darling, and I hope he makes his way to Colorado. He says he was once a professional ice sculptor. I'd like to see his work!
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