Last week, we went to the Y for a quick swim.
It says a lot about the current state of my work outs, that I had forgotten how to go to the Y. When I went searching for my ID card, all I could find was a spare one of #1 son’s. On entering, I turned up my coat collar as I passed the desk, scanned quickly and tried to blend in with the woodwork.
No one noticed.
But in my concentration on sneaking in, I’d forgotten to lock my purse in the car. With no lock for the locker, I was kind of stuck. So I suited up, stuffed it in my gym bag, stuffed the towel on top, and dragged it into the pool with me, throwing it on the bleachers and taking the nearest lane, so I could keep an eye on it, as I dog paddled.
#2 son shared my lane, since neither of us are much for consistent lap swimming. The DH took the lane next to ours and passed us repeatedly, as regular as a Swiss watch. We were there for about so minutes, before things started to get weird.
It is normally pretty quiet there, especially within an hour of closing. But the bleachers started to fill up.
Glasses-less, #2 and I squinted in the direction of the expanding crowd, trying to suss this out. Was it a rental? A birthday, perhaps. There were a lot of kids. But none of them were changed to swimsuits, all still in street clothes. Some still in boots and coats.
And they were surrounding my purse.
I am nothing to see, in a swimming suit. And I do not like to lumber half naked and soaking wet, into a mob of strangers. So I sent #2. He made my lame excuse, grabbed my bag and moved it to a bench.
By the time he got back in the water, and moved down to the deep end, where I was treading water, a fully dressed man had gotten into the pool with us, on the shallow end of our lane. And then, another. We are now both treading water, and casting quick glimpses in the direction of the two interlopers, trying to decide what to do.
“Ma’am?” It is the lifeguard, standing over us. Because there is a baptism going on in our lane. He is as surprised as we are. Pentecostal immersion was not on the pool schedule. He is not sure how to handle it.
He insists we don’t have to move, if we stay on our end of the pool. But maybe it would be better if we switched lanes. The DH has disappeared. We assume he has given up and gone to the lockers, so we slink around the far side of the pool, grab our towels and go to the showers.
Only to find that the Baptism is over, five minutes later. And about the time that we are both dripping wet and totally naked in our respective locker rooms, that the congregation has followed us and is preparing for a post sacrament trip to the waterslide.
I told #2 that the Episcopalian confirmation ceremony is going to be a major let down, after seeing this.