The enemy below
It happened again. I was swimming in the pool at the gym, minding my own business, when my lane was hijacked. Some dude started swimming in my lane, even though the pool was half empty, or half full depending on your perspective. This mook chose to swim in the same lane.
I looked to the lifeguard for justice, but the boy in the chair was mesmerized by his iPhone. If I’m ever drowning, I’m going to have to text for help: “OMG! I’m drowning! Snorkel face emoji.”
Rather than cause a big hullabaloo, I swam over to an open lane and continued my exercise from there. Otherwise I would have crashed into him, like two submarines on a collision course. Maybe he didn’t see me. I was running silent and deep. It was like the “Hunt for Red October” in four feet of water.
The entire event struck me as Seinfeldian. He jacked my lane! I had a Lane Jacker.
This wasn’t my first encounter with Lane Jackers. I was lane jacked last year, swimming in a different pool.
Side note: The pool at my regular gym has been temporarily closed. Though, I think if something is closed for more than a month, it shouldn’t be called temporary.
But I digress, like I do. Good ole’ Jack la Lane over there didn’t even seem to notice as I swam over to the next available lane. The lifeguard still didn’t look up, even though I was giving him my best “What the heck?!” face. I even tried to make eye contact with the woman in the next lane. She was power-walking in the water. She had a jaunty little cap on with plastic flowers, but she sloshed through the water with a determined look. She was also oblivious to my Lane Jacker.
I come to the pool to relax. After a long day of work, I dip into the water and my troubles melt away. I didn’t expect to be usurped in my own territory. I was invaded. He was like a German U-boat in enemy waters. Only he was a white-haired old man in tangerine trunks. Underwater, it was like a flaming Jack-O-Lantern was heading toward me. Full speed ahead!
P.S. If you’re going to go sneak into someone’s spot, might I recommend a subtler bathing suit? Maybe an aquamarine or navy?
But no … he wasn’t even inconspicuous about jacking my lane!
“George was getting upset, Jerry!”
It took absolutely no effort to swim over to the next open lane, but it was the principle of the thing.
I was there to lower my blood pressure, not raise it.
I just wanted someone to notice he took my spot in the pool. I was just looking for a “Geez! Some people,” a sympathetic nod, a sigh or even a mild “Tsk tsk!” If only someone would have rolled their eyes in his general direction, I would have felt better.
Five laps later, I had almost forgotten about it. Almost.