Here's the #$@!! Pool Again

I have another pool story.  It paints me in a bad light then in a good light then in a terrible light before I rally at the last minute and get painted in an otherworldly glow of god-like serenity and spirituality (I paint myself, anyhow, not saying anyone else would paint me such a nimbus around my head) and - like all my pool stories - isn't that interesting so I've had to take some time trying to figure out how to share the story without boring everyone to death.   

There are four lanes at my pool - two narrow lanes and two wide lanes with the wide lanes being up against the wall and the narrow lanes in the middle of the pool.  I like to swim in the wide lanes but not against the wall and I'm not thrilled about the narrow lanes, either.  I'm a tall guy with a big wingspan so some extra room helps me to not run into another swimmer or bang my hand on an unforgiving wall.  Under duress I will swim in any of the lanes, of course, with only the occasional curse muttered under my breath.

OK, that's not too bad so far.  Brief.  Clear images.  Moving forward quickly.  A little too technical and detailed but I am an engineer in my own mind.

I was up against the ropes and not against the wall in one of the wide lanes when a woman I know - a bit of an oddball which is OK because I'm not running on all cylinders myself - jumped in and asked if she could swim in my highly desirable lane using which would have shifted me against the wall.  I demurred politely at this pretty ballsy request.  She was not upset.  There were two "walkers" in the narrow lane next to me, nice women I know pretty well.  They're big girls so they like the wide end lane where they can walk side by side and chat while they're exercising.  "I'll tell you what," I said to the kooky woman, glowing brightly with my own generosity and consideration.  "I'll trade with these two and you all can share the big lane."  

A side note: swimmers don't really like the walkers.  They clog the pool up and it is a swimming pool after all.  You can walk anywhere.  I can only swim in water.  I'm not saying swimmers hate walkers as people but why don't you go outside and take a nice walk in the sunshine and fresh air?  Let me gasp for oxygen in peace while I'm trying not to drown.  I can't swim over to the coffee shop.  You sure as shit can walk over there.

Back to the riveting story . . .  Everybody begins walking and swimming.  Everybody is happy.  I swim down to the  far end of the pool, turn around, and the kook has clambered over the rope and is now walking with me in the narrow lane.  My initial reaction is like "What the fuck?  Are you fucking kidding me?"  Out of the goodness of my heart I gave up my preferred big lane/non-wall/against the rope slot so that I can be jammed into a narrow lane?  With this annoying person?  This walker?  I was outraged.  I was offended.  I felt violated.  It crossed my mind briefly that the goofball woman was fucking with me on purpose.  "Heh, heh, heh, I'll show him," she might have been, maybe, probably, muttering under her breath.

My first thought was that I would just swim down the middle of the lane and deliberately clip her with one of my hard plastic hand paddles as I passed her by - pool etiquette insists that you alert someone if you're going to share a lane to avoid such collisions.  I immediately discarded that.  Then, I decided I'd just swim my backstroke and if I clipped her with one of my hard plastic hand paddles it would be a "mistake" and not a deliberate assault.  I discarded that as well.  Quickly, very quickly but not immediately.  I vaguely sensed I was treading on shifting sands.  So I just started to swim with consideration.  I've been swimming a long time and I'm a pretty good swimmer so passing by someone in a narrow lane without clipping them with one of my hard plastic hand paddles is no big deal.  I was making a mountain out of a molehill.  I was upsetting myself to no good purpose.

I finished my swim at the same time as one of my big lady friends, and we climbed out of the pool together.  She said this, unprompted: "Stevie, you are a very nice person.  You are always very considerate of other people." She repeated this theme a couple of times.  Like most alcoholics my tendency is to downplay a compliment but I've learned that robs the compliment-er of the good feeling of paying someone else a compliment, deprives them of the pleasure of thinking of someone else in a loving manner.  Per usual I brought the spirituality I've learned in the Rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous into the conversation, explaining how the practice of NOT THINKING ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME makes me very, very happy.

Pools notwithstanding.