I decided I really need to find myself a good, clean eastern version of Club West. I so, so, so wish I had a picture of Club West to post. That would really enhance this story. Club West is the beautiful, happy, clean, and wonderful pool that I practically grew up at. Spent summers there as a kid and then worked there for too many summers to count. I'm sure I have a skewed image of Club West, but it really does represent all things good and beautiful in my mind. Heck, when you answer the phone the tagline is "It's a beautiful day at Club West." And really, it always was. Perfect hang out, perfect job. As a kid swimming carelessly for hours on end, only breaking to hit up the concession stand for laffy taffies to a teenager working alongside my best friends (for only 3 1/2 hour shifts...how easy was that) not to mention learning some of life's greatest lessons soaking up wisdom from Coach Becker. We knew every kid's name and face, we totally played favorites, and I never once had to jump in and actually save someone. Ahh. Those were the days.
I'm not asking for a lot here...just a clean place that plays good radio stations and is semi-private with comfortable chairs.
Over the weekend I decided to hit up the closest public pool to me which happens to be in the middle of a nearby park that I like to run in. It's $2 and it's a pool, give it a chance. I arrive at 1:00 right when they open. The locker rooms and bathrooms are of course disgusting...but hey, I'm not paying to hang out in there so I'll let that go. I secure myself a nice corner seat and angle to the sun immediately. It's filling up quickly, but doesn't look like too rough of a crowd. The worst part is the chain-link fence and the busy running trail right next to the pool. Each time people ran by I felt like I was just sun-bathing on display. Like you're somewhere that everyone else wears clothes but you wore your swim suit. You know? Ever have dreams like that or something? Anyway, not the point.
Well, apparently, I unknowingly planted myself in the center of the obnoxious, dirty-mouthed, teeny-bopper section. This is where pride got in the way because I should have just moved...but I was there first! These kids were acting terrible. Filthy-mouthed and treating each other really badly. I'm not sure if it's the former lifeguard or teacher coming out in me...but I knew it was only a matter of time before we rumbled. I asked that they please not use that kind of language--they did not need to be using cuss words and hitting each other, etc. All the kids I'm sure thought, hey, who's the crazy lady, but all were respectful back to me, all except one. The bully. He fit all the stereotypes to a tee. I'm sure he is a teacher's nightmare. They all hope and pray that they don't get this kid in their class. His voice is like nails on a chalkboard and his attitude is pretty "salty" too. He sasses back to me about how I should just move if I don't like their language...which is a valid point...but c'mon...regardless of my presence, kids shouldn't talk like they were talking. It really made me sad. Not to sound like a cranky old lady, but...kids aren't kids anymore. They don't just swim carelessly playing games like "hot box." They talked about gang stuff, MTV and Will Ferrell movies and all these sexual inuendos that they should NOT even know about. Not just little boys, but little girls too! Why do these kids think it's super cool to cuss like sailors and tear each other down? Did I go through this phase? I can't even really remember how the encounter ended, I'm sure I should have been less angry with the sassy kid, but eventually he got the point that I wasn't moving and that I could get him kicked out. So there. The part of the day that gave me the most personal satisfaction is when they paged the bully kid to the concession stand. His name is Raymond. He, he, he. Big mean skater-kid bully is named Raymond! I just had to chuckle to myself about that one.
I still did not feel confident enough to turn my back on these characters and lay on my stomach ever...which resulted in a major one-sided burn. Which is I guess what I deserve. At least I tried to help make the atmosphere more pleasant and somewhat like the perfection of Club West. But if I do return to that pool...I'm definitely not sitting in that corner again.
