Oh, come on now. It's been a couple of days without one of these, and I figured you'd all be wondering where Sour-Grapes Megan went. And believe it or not, without any doing of my own, I had this little morsel dropped into my lap this afternoon:
I met Larry at the pool for a swim. When we got there, the pool was empty, and, as usual, we set our buoys, paddles and flip-flops at the top of our respective lanes. As we swam, people came and went. About 1700 meters into it, I noticed that familiar pressure in my abdominal that signaled it was time for a pee-break. So I got out of the pool, and went to the bathroom. I noticed that all the lanes were taken and made sure that my aforementioned collection of toys was at the top of the lane to indicate that it was taken.
However, as I was walking back down the hall to the pool after my momentary break (45 seconds later, thankyouverymuch), I noticed a rather hairy, 25-ish male wearing (no joke) Jams (remember those?) popping his goggles on his face, stepping over my buoy and paddles and jumping into my lane.
My first thought was, "Son of a b--. Seriously?" Now, I have NO problems splitting a lane, and frankly, that is usually the case when the pool gets filled. However, as I walked onto the deck, I noticed that he was seal-like swimming down half the lane, then sort of walking, then swimming on his back, then walking again, then breast-stroking and then some more walking and finally what can only be described as "water wiggling." It was clear that there would be no room for me to share the lane, nor was Dolphin Man having anyone break his flopping rhythm.
Oh, and my personal favorite? At one point, his incredible aquatic skills must have worn him out, so he needed to relax by resting his head against the ledge of the pool while on his back, his Jam-covered legs floating out in front of him, as if to suggest, "Hey, this is almost like being on a beach somewhere, only without the cool frosty drink, sun or sand." I half expected him to tuck a fiver in my suit and ask me to shake cute little self over to the bar for a pina colada.
I noticed Larry staring at me through his goggles as if to gauge my reaction, which, to the knowing eye, was utter disbelief. In order to avoid confrontation (which I so, so despise, as I would rather just suck down my frustration until it gives me a bleeding ulcer) Larry offered to let me share his lane.
So why was I so pissed?
First off, it was clear someone was swimming in the lane, given the apparatus at the top of it. Now, unless this guy has some knowledge of the rare phenomenon of ghost swimming that I did not, it was pretty clear someone was in the lane. So etiquette (and correct me if I am wrong) would suggest that he wait a moment until I return, and then ask me politely if he could share my already marked lane. To which I would have stated, "Sure, no problem," as I usually do. But no.
And then he didn't even seem to get it when I picked up ALL of my belongings and brought them over to Larry's lane. I felt like I should have even apologized for cluttering up his entrance into the (my) lane.
For the rest of time, I just shot him the glare of death underwater through my goggles as he meandered himself down (my) lane. See, he was swimming to my right, and since I can't bilaterally breathe yet, I can only go to my right side, which he happened to be on.
I know it's not nice to claim lanes, and I hate when people get all entitled and shit just because they might be more highly skilled than me, but this is SO not the case here. I wasn't feeling entitled to the lane just because I don't wear Jams and I can actually swim (well, at least today I could, ask me again tomorrow). Rather, it was just lack of courtesy. That's all. A simple, "Hey, I think maybe I took your lane - want to share?" would have even lessened the blow. But nothing.
So lesson learned today?
Next time, just pee in the pool.