Saturday, July 28, 2007

Just Another Day at the Swim Club

My wife asked if “I was going to drop the kids off at the pool today?”. Puzzled, I replied “I’m pretty regular so I’ll probably take a dump today, same as yesterday” “Why the sudden concern over my daily output?”

“I meant the swim club, you dick” she countered.

The swim club is an interesting gathering of both people who you’d like to see with less clothing, balanced out by the searing visual impression of people who you’d wish would wear more.

It’s also a place where wives freely bitch about their “useless” husbands to other women with equally useless husbands. They sit together around a collection of picnic tables all day to do nothing more than bitch and eat from noon to late afternoon. The pool and lifeguards function as the daycare. I happened to be the only useless husband there with his wife on a sunny and warm mid-July Wednesday afternoon. To the other wives that didn’t really matter. I was just collateral damage as they trashed their spouses equally without taking many breaths between rants. The only thing stopping my wife from filibustering in the penis hating session was my presence.

After ball bashing, the girls started trashing the women who were lucky enough not to be there that day. “Jill is fat and lazy”, “Barbara, that skinny bitch is anorexic” “Lisa pops Vicodin like Aspirin” “Marianne’s husband Bob, is banging his secretary”, “That’s because she’s doing the lawn guy, and don’t forget the exterminator”. “Jesus Christ”, I thought to myself. “Did the UPS guy happen to join in on the gangbang over at Marianne and Bob’s place?”

That’s when Michelle, the youngest and the hottest wife (next to mine, of course- she just bought a new laptop with wireless internet) stood up three-quarters facing the other way in her yellow two-piece in full stretch. I don’t think her bikini bottom was supposed to a thong. But it twas’. The top was slightly undone, so I conveniently dropped one of my son’s toys to the right for a fast lecherous gander. Real or fake? Who cares?

WOW. I was now stiffer than George Will at a Ludicrous concert.

Michelle then nonchalantly declares to the foul mouthed Brownie troop “I’m getting my tragi pierced”. Equally stunned and concerned I offer “Do you have to see the gynecologist for that?”

Kim, the big mouth with the big ass to match shoots daggers toward me and barks “It’s the cartilage in the ear, you asshole!!”

I feebly shot back “I take it that’s a no then?”

As I walked over to the edge of the pool to check on my two kids , I noticed they’ve made a new friend. I couldn’t make out his age, but he was as tall as he was wide. He wasn’t so much talking to my kids as he was launching half eaten Doritos into the pool with words that followed. The kid mumbled something to me and walked away. I couldn’t make out what he said as I was too busy ducking nacho cheese covered shrapnel. The pool now had an orange covered surface as Doritos boy disappeared from sight.

At that point, the soon to be on duty female butch lifeguard walked behind me and barked “Hey kids NO eating in the pool!!”. I turned around and saw this 6’5” behemoth with multiple piercings and red, white, and blue Mohawk haircut. As I glanced down I noticed she wasn’t particularly well groomed. Okay, that’s a real understatement. It looked like she had Justin Guarini in a leg lock.

I said “MY KIDS weren’t eating in the pool” She replied “Do I look STUPID?”
I answered “Was that a trick question?”

I got my kids out of the pool and we made our back the bitching wives. As we approach I could see they were all smiling at Lars; the musclehead Swede swimming instructor in the banana hammock Speedo. His hands were at his hips as the wives guffawed over every lame broken bit of English he spoke. “Lars, you are too funny”, “Your accent is just too cute”. They were all gushing like a bunch of sixteen year olds with a high school crush. As he turned to walk away they let out a collective lustful sigh and a “Bye Lars”.

I could hear my wife say to Michelle amazed “Did you see how long it was?” Michelle replied “Oh my god and how wide too!” Feeling a rush of jealous insecurity I blurted out “He’s no bigger than most guys!!” “He probably wraps it up in Saran wrap two or three times before he puts the damned Speedo on!”.

My startled wife said “I don’t know what the hell you are talking about?” “But we are talking about Lars new tattoo of the Swedish flag he got because he is so homesick.” “It covers the left side of his chest.”

I said “Oh, ya I know. He supposed to keep that thing covered until the ink properly sets, some people use Saran wrap for a cover that’s all I was saying”

“Hey Kids do you want go back to the pool?”

What followed couldn’t have come at a better time for me. A woman alternated between a scream and a cry: “Douglas, Douglas, please has ANYONE seen my Douglas”

None of the other mothers showed any concern for this panic stricken woman. I was later told the search for Douglas happens on average once a week.

It turns out little Douglas is quite the prankster. He managed to follow his psycho mother around step for step around the park for roughly twenty minutes during her frenzied search without her knowing. It wasn’t until Douglas noticed another kid with his swimming goggles with the attached snorkel that he was found out.

Douglas hunched his shoulders and sprinted full out toward the unsuspecting snorkel stealer driving him head first in into the lawn; a takedown that would make Jeremiah Trotter proud.

The clueless mother ran over to her son gave him a squeeze and cried “Douglas, I thought I would never see you again.” Meanwhile, the other kid was had a mouth full of turf impaled by his braces.

My wife yelled over to the pool “Hey guys, it’s time for lunch” As we made our way to the picnic tables I noticed loudmouthed Kim picking out a wedgy from her cavernous dumper only to have it wedge again seconds later. The scene reminded me of the documentary I once saw as a kid about the Beluga whale and how she devours bluefish.

Just then my wife said “I made you a tuna fish sandwich with extra mayo.”

Having no appetite and about to puke I said “Not real hungry right now, anything to drink?”

“I brought Yoo-hoo for the kids, I have an extra one” she said

About ready to projectile hurl I answered “I’m good over here.”

After lunch it was more of the same; bitching, then swimming, and fighting with lifeguards. My work days seem faster than this fun filled day at the pool with the wife and kids.

When we got home my wife asked “Honey, did you fun today at the swim club?” I said I’d rather take a kick to the ballsack than ever go back again.”

“So to answer your question…NO”

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