People Watching, People Bouncing

          I must tell you of my recent adventure:  I am 45 years old, and for the first time in my life, I went to a public swimming pool.  My doctor said that exercising in the pool would be great for my back, especially since the buoyancy would take pressure off my disks. 

          Boy was she right!  I had difficulty with balance at first, but it only took a few minutes to find my sea legs.   I haven't swam in probably fifteen years, and for the first time in thirteen years, I had no pain from the small of my back down to my feet.  None!  I mean, it relieved pain I had grown so accustomed to that I was no longer aware of its presence until it was gone. 

          I stayed in for about thirty minutes.  It was great.  But there was one big problem. Every 45 minutes, everyone on a ladder chair blows whistles so the lifeguards can go take a break in the air conditioning.  Those whistles mean that everyone has to get out of the pool. I began to climb out.  I was all right until I once again felt the full force of gravity. 

          Instantly, I got sick.  I mean hand-over-my-mouth-so-I-don't-puke sick.

          I sat on the first bench I could find, and I was not able to get up for about another thirty minutes.  It made me so sick that I could not make myself go back into the water, even after the nausea passed.

          Why did this happen?  Had I overexerted myself without knowing it?  Did I maybe get water into my middle ear and throw my equilibrium out of whack? 

          Being benched was okay, though, because it allows me to people watch.  The world is full of fantastic characters that might one day make it into a story.  Or bits and pieces of several people might merge into one good character.

          So, I sat on the bench and people watched.  I couldn't hear the conversations because of the fountains in the pool splashing.  I did make the following observations, though:

          There were more teenagers in the kiddie pool than there were kids.

          The cadre of We Studmuffins Three kept circling the pool.  They all looked like they had been wet at some point, but I never actually saw them get into the water.  The one who strutted with the greatest amount of I-passed-the-driver's exam machismo seemed to be the leader. The two wingmen, the lesser muffins, walked a half step behind him.  They all wore similar (but not matching, matching ain't cool) black swimming trunks.  Their hair was all dark brown and cut in the same styles.  Each had pecks that shouted, "Look! Secondary hormones have kicked in!" They walked with their arms slightly flexed and their asses cocked as if they had hemorrhoids the size of a hedgehog colony.

          There was a hipster with a chest-length red beard. It looked like someone had tried to roll some dreadlocks with it but changed their mind.  I liked him.  He had character potential.  He was impressed with my horse-fly-killing ability. (Open-handed slap--Oppa, Miyagi Style!)  He said, "Dude, I'd rather get stung by a wasp than one of those things."

          My favorite was the elderly couple, though. They were probably in their seventies, both wearing floppy straw hats.  Both were a good forty pounds overweight. These old folks were the only ones of their age there, and I guess they were not satisfied sitting at the edge dangling their tootsies.  The woman slowly crept down the ladder first, followed closely by her husband.  She walked with her arms gliding at the surface of the water, as if she were using an invisible walker.  They left the 4 ft section and trudged like pilgrims fighting the elements to the rope with blue and white floats that marked the center of the pool and the 5 ft section.  The man stood with his back to the rope.  Occasionally, he stretched his arms out to his sides, airplane-like, but not very often.  Otherwise, he did not move.  He just stood there, looking put out. 

          All of a sudden, I noticed that the woman was bouncing.  Hands folded over her belly and hopping.  She kept doing this, and apparently she was not having fun.  She neither laughed nor even smiled.  The husband appeared oblivious, even though she was three feet away.  Maybe he was used to it. 

          Five minutes passed and she was still hopping.  Completely expressionless.  Just boing. Boing. Boing. Boing.

          Ten minutes passed. 

          I'm pretty sure she bounced the entire 45 minutes between lifeguard breaks.  How did she do that without having a heart attack?  And why wasn't she having fun?