Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Shriek, sing, squeal ...

Imagine being stuck in a small humid place with two dozen tea kettles at the boiling point. Or a few litters of feral cats that have been spun in circles, then released. That is the swim team that takes over the women's locker room. They shriek, sing, and squeal, pound on the door that separates them from the boys on the other side of the wall. They whip their wet hair and toss damp towels on the floor.

Yesterday a girl skittered in front of me, hopped pantless onto a stool. A giant husky mass of 10 year old girl with tangled hair and an awkward shirt. She wanted to put her pants on while standing on a pedestal. I get that. Then she bonked me in the head with her knee as she stepped into her jeans and didn't even notice.

I wish I had a do-over so I could go back and make sure I was never that girl.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sounds like my daughter. Sorry

nanners said...

there's nothing i hate more than the locker room at the center at about 6:15 p.m., when the overweight women's swim class filters in and sticks ass in your face.

Blaire said...

i work at a family-friendly hotel. with a pool. this is my life, 40 hours a week, at least. it is painful at times.