Everybody in the Pool

Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial start of summer and the official opening of our condo’s pool.  Growing up we never had a pool, during my married life we never had a pool, now I live on Stowe Ln and I’ve got a pool along with 400 other people.

I’m not a get to the pool early and get a seat with the appropriate sun positioning kind of girl but there are surely a number of those.  There are a number of families, a number of single women, a number of single moms and certainly a number of kids.

There is a pecking order, there are cliques, and there are interesting interactions.  All of which I truly enjoy watching and noting.  Not least of which is the governing of the mayor of the pool.  I’m sure every public pool has its unelected mayor; I believe my brother-in-law is one, but ours is quite unique.  She is a squat blonde who always has the requisite coffee cup in her hand (it’s yet to be determined if its coffee) a husky smoking-for-years voice who owns the table at the deep end of the pool.  Mind you there is no smoking at the pool but she takes her periodic walks out the gate to grab a puff and greet or look over the new entrants to the pool area depending on their standing with her.   Mind you also that there is no reserving of tables or lounge chairs but you would be hard pressed to find anyone going near the table at the deep end of the pool.  You get the picture. 

The mayor’s club includes a skinny woman with a permanent tan, the requisite coffee cup and a book she never seems to read.  An attention span thing I fear.  She is one of those people that things seem to happen to and she is always seeking advice from the mayor or the guy who knows everything.  He’s the other part of the mayor’s club.  He rides his bike, knows everyone who’s anyone in town and always has advice or a snide quip for the people around him.  Again depending on pool hierarchy, this little group will allow or disallow you to sit at their table at the deep end at will. 

I noticed there is the guy that wants to be the friend of the guy who knows everything.  He tries to make small talk with him but gets the snide quip.  He doesn’t give up until the quips get so targeted that when he mentions that his son looks as if he has the same tall forehead as he does he finally slinks back to the low end of the pool with his son in his arms. Really?  Who is this guy?

You can see that there are future guys that know everything too.  I heard a kid calling after one such future guy, “Hey Alex wait up, Hey Alex wait up.”  Alex didn’t wait up.  There is no more telling look on a kid’s face then the one after you’ve been dissed by the cool kid.  To his credit he shrugged his shoulders and jumped in the pool to start torturing his sister.  She wacked him.  Tough day for that kid.

Then of course there are the beautiful people.  The beautiful boys with tattoos on their pecks and partly, strategically shaved heads admiring the beautiful girls who know like they know they can set the world on fire.  It’s an intricate dance of getting up and getting wet then laying down and drying off flexing all the appropriate muscles while the former beautiful boys are sucking it in and sucking it up. 

The former beautiful boys are mostly the Dads with families that find themselves reacting to the ice cream truck that blares its obnoxious music about every hour.  The theme from The Sting or the Yellow Rose of Texas.  Shut that damn music off, it sets off the same hysteria every time by all the same kids and dads. Really?  Did you forget from an hour ago?  And Dad says yes to the pleas every hour.  Too funny, too sad, too I’ve turned into an auto-Dad.

There is the runner’s clique, the Eastern Block, the single mom’s clique each with their own intrinsic conversations, whether you can understand them or not.  There are the sit at the edge of the pool people, there are the swim a few laps people, there are the people who come in the morning and the people who come in the afternoon and the people who pack a lunch and stay all day. 

Then there is the life guard. He’s the man in charge of it all with the power to launch you from the pool if you don’t follow the rules.  He wants to be one of the beautiful boys but he’s not, he knows it so he is the serious one.  He measures the chemical balance each hour, makes sure you have your pool pass and insures you sign in.  He’s the guy, who with the help of the mayor will insure a pleasant pool experience this summer.  A true God love him….Happy Memorial Day